Jean looked away from Logan, pacing to the far side. "Just… stay on your side of the stage. Say what you have to say and don't talk to me."
Logan smirked, leaning against the wall. "Trust me, I've got no interest in sharing words with someone who lies for a living."
Jean's fists clenched at her sides. "And I have no interest in someone who hates so blindly."
Silence fell again.
Not calm… just quiet before another storm.
They stood there, enemies trapped in a glass box of memories, waiting for the world to call them out again.
Together.
A soft knock came on the waiting room door.
"Miss Adams? Mr. Kingsley? You're on in two minutes."
Jean straightened, smoothing down the front of her white gown. Her fingers trembled. Not from nerves about the speech, but because she'd have to stand next to him. The one man she didn't want to share air with.
Logan fixed the cuffs of his suit. His expression was unreadable, his jaw locked in silent irritation.
