I finished his sentence with a mocking smile. "Don't tell me you mistook her for me."

"I—" Logan began, but I cut him off.

"Logan, you hardly ever kissed me."

He grimaced, the truth hitting him like a slap. In the three years we were together, we held hands, cuddled, but rarely kissed passionately.

When he did kiss me, it was always on my hand, cheek, or forehead. Even the few kisses on the lips were barely more than pecks. ...