–Laura–
Before we even set foot at the Manila International Book Fair—the one in the biggest mall in the country, where bibliophiles come to drown in the smell of paper and ink—we had to make a pit stop. Coffee for Logan. Obviously. Without caffeine, this man might collapse dramatically in the middle of the convention and make it into tomorrow's headlines.
"Local author faints at book fair, revived only by coffee," I could already imagine the headline.
So, I clutched Logan's arm like he was my fragile grandma crossing the street. "Come on, Logan, don't faint on me. I need you alive and functioning."
Logan, with his messy hair and dark circles, gave me a look that screamed: Woman, I tolerate you only because we've been friends since childhood.
And then Damien—my ever-jealous, overly dramatic husband—latched onto Logan's other arm. Now the scene looked like two caregivers escorting a grumpy patient to the ER.
