When he got drunk because he missed Bella, I carried him home from the bar, made him sobering soup, and took care of him.
He told me how hard it was for his parents to raise him, so I offered to forgo a dowry and even bought a house for us to get married in.
When he complained about the cafeteria food at work, I carefully prepared lunch for him every day.
He said he felt sorry for Bella and her son and considered her just a friend. I believed him and never stopped him from helping her.
But despite my understanding, he only got worse.
Logan and I didn't speak for two days. On the third night, he got a call and hurriedly dressed to go out.
I stopped him.
"Where are you going at this hour?"
"Harry has a high fever. I need to take him to the hospital."
"Why not call 911? Why do you need to go?"
"Bella can't handle this on her own."
I remembered Mia's high fever last month. I had woken Logan from his deep sleep, asking him to take her to the hospital.
What did he say then?
"It's just a fever. Give her some water. If that doesn't work, give her some Motrin."
At 2 AM that night, I took a taxi and rushed Mia to the emergency room alone.