His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 201: What Did I Do Wrong

Chapter 201- What Did I Do Wrong?

LOGAN’S POV

I sat there, just staring at the letter.

Still holding it. Still reading the words over and over like maybe the meaning would suddenly change.

But it didn’t.

It stayed the same.

I read the same line again:

"I don’t think we can see each other anymore. I’m not attracted to you the way you are attracted to me."

What?

What the hell is going on?

I didn’t want to overreact. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

But—what was really happening?

Where did this even come from?

I dropped the letter on the bed and rubbed my face with both hands. My chest was starting to feel heavy, like someone was standing on it.

"No," I whispered to myself. "This is not real. Maybe I’m dreaming."

I closed my eyes.

Tightly.

I sat there, eyes shut, for over a minute.

Just breathing.

Trying to convince myself that none of this was real.

"It’s a dream," I whispered. "It’s just a stupid dream."

I kept repeating it.

Like if I said it enough, it would become true.

Because nothing made sense.

What the hell was going on?

Why would he write something like that?

Why would Tyler leave without even waking me up?

Wasn’t he the same person who held onto me all night like he didn’t want me to go?

Wasn’t he the one who begged me not to leave?

He looked me in the eye, and told me not to go.

I listened. I stayed. For him.

And now this?

A damn letter?

What changed?

Why was he suddenly pushing me away?

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.

I kept my eyes shut. Tight. Almost like I wanted to trap myself inside the dark.

If I stayed there long enough, maybe the world would shift back.

Maybe when I opened them again, everything would go back to normal.

Back to when he was here.

Back to when he smiled at me like I meant something.

But when I finally opened my eyes...

The letter was still there.

Still staring at me from where I dropped it on the bed.

Same words. Same cold goodbye.

So this was real.

It wasn’t a dream.

It wasn’t some twisted nightmare.

It was real.

And it hit me like a slap.

I could feel the pressure rising in my chest.

It felt like I couldn’t breathe right.

My thoughts were racing. Too fast. Too loud.

"Calm down, Logan," I whispered to myself, pressing my hands against my head.

"Calm the hell down."

But my heart wasn’t listening.

Neither was my head.

"What did I do?" I said out loud. "What the hell did I even do wrong?"

I didn’t shout. I didn’t scream.

But I wanted to.

I wanted to tear the damn letter in half and pretend none of this ever happened.

But I couldn’t.

Instead, I sat there like an idiot—confused, angry, and hurt all at the same time.

"Why is he treating me like this?"

"Did I hurt him without knowing?"

"Did I say something? Do something?"

I searched my brain, trying to remember every little moment, every word.

But nothing stood out. Nothing made sense.

I didn’t do anything.

Before that whole thing with Rachel, we were fine.

Actually, more than fine.

We were laughing. Talking. Even enjoying each other’s company.

When he broke down over his mom...

I was there.

I was the one holding him.

I was the one telling him it wasn’t the end. That he would be okay.

I stayed when I could have walked away.

So why?

Why would he just leave?

Why would he go without even looking me in the face?

Just like that.

Just a letter.

No goodbye.

No explanation.

Just... gone.

He was the one who begged me not to go.

He held my hand, looked me in the eye, and said we would go together.

He said we’d face it—together.

That we’d go see his mom.

That he needed me.

So what changed?

What happened between that night and this morning?

Why the hell would he leave alone?

I stood up so fast, the chair nearly tipped over. The letter slipped from my hand and hit the floor, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even want to see that stupid thing anymore.

I grabbed it and threw it across the room.

It made a soft sound as it landed, but the anger inside me was screaming.

That letter was pissing me off.

So badly.

I could feel the heat rise in my chest, in my neck, all the way to my ears.

I picked up my phone with shaking hands and dialed his number.

"Pick up," I muttered.

"Pick up the fucking call, you good-for-nothing bastard!" I yelled.

"Pick up and say it to my face! Say it with your chest! Look me in the eye and tell me you never liked me!"

"Don’t fucking hide behind a damn piece of paper!"

I was shouting at no one.

Just myself.

Pacing the room like I had lost my mind.

I called again.

And again.

And again.

Nothing.

It didn’t even ring.

It didn’t go through.

It just ended immediately like the number didn’t exist.

I stared at the screen, confused.

"Wait... wait, hold on..."

I blinked.

"Wait a fucking second—did he block me?"

My voice cracked.

Did he really go that far?

Did he really hate me that much?

Was he that serious about cutting me off?

My chest tightened again. Like I couldn’t breathe properly.

I sank to the floor, slowly, like my legs couldn’t carry me anymore.

I sat there, back against the wall, phone still in my hand.

He blocked me.

He blocked me.

The words kept bouncing around in my head.

He didn’t even give me the chance to ask why.

He didn’t even let me explain—or even understand.

He just... left.

Without saying anything.

Without facing me.

"What did I do?" I whispered.

I tried to hold it in.

I swear I did.

I cleaned my eyes. Took a deep breath. Tried to act like I was okay.

"Logan, maybe it’s a prank," I said to myself. "Yeah... maybe he’s just messing with you."

"He probably wants to see how you’ll react. Maybe he just wants to know if you’ll fight for him. Maybe he’s just trying to test you."

I tried so hard to believe that.

I really did.

Because the other option—that he truly meant what he wrote in that letter—was just too much for me to handle.

I wiped my face again. My hands were shaking.

I grabbed my phone and tried calling one more time.

Just one more.

But again—

Nothing.

Not ringing. Not connecting. Just dead silence.

"Why isn’t it going through?!" I screamed, slamming the phone on the bed. "Why the fuck isn’t this working?!"

I was losing it.

Completely losing it.

I stared up at the ceiling, begging for answers.

"Can someone—anyone—just tell me what the fuck is happening?"

"What did I do wrong?"

I tried his number again.

One last time.

Still the same thing. Not going through.

And that was when it hit me.

I froze.

Wait...

He doesn’t even have a phone anymore.