“No,” he replies. “But I needed to.”
He’s quiet for a long time after that last note. Then, almost sheepishly: “I didn’t want to mess up your life. I thought if I stayed away, you’d heal faster. Move on. Be better off.”
I let out a soft laugh, sad and certain. “Do you really think there’s been a single day in my life that’s been better off without you?”
His gaze catches mine. “I have never been very logical when it comes to you, Cole,” he murmurs, brushing a curl off my forehead. “You make me swoon for you.”
My cheeks heat. “You’re impossible.”
I take one more post-it:
The sky turned that weird purple before it rained. Your kind of storm.
I fold it carefully and return it to the box. Each post-it is proof that love didn’t end when he left. It just waited.
When I help him to the bathroom, he leans into me more than he means to. I hand him Advil and a glass of water, watch him swallow it down, then steer him gently back to the couch.
The room is heavy with morning light. Xaden looks at me, eyes softer than I’ve ever seen. My hand finds his cheek, thumb brushing the edge of the stitches, careful, reverent.
“You came back,” I whisper.
“I was always going to come back. I promise I won’t leave again,” he murmurs, voice low, eyes full of awe.
“Good,” I breathe, forehead tipping against his. “Because I’m planning to keep you.”
He lets me guide him back down. Our fingers tangle without a word. His breathing slows, warm and steady against my arm until he drifts back to sleep.
XADEN
When I wake up, I’m being stared at. Big, curious eyes. Green, like Cole’s.
“Are you Daddy’s friend? Why do you sleep on the couch? Do you know it’s day? Grandma says early birds get the worm.”
I blink, still horizontal, blanket half-slipped off. “Hi,” I manage.
Noah stands in red shorts and a faded dinosaur tee, clutching a plastic T-Rex in one hand. In the other, a leash. On the leash? A gigantic green dinosaur toy that seems to be glaring at me.
He’s Cole in miniature — if Cole had a permanent sugar rush.
I spot my old t-shirt, the one Cole was wearing two nights ago, folded on an armchair. I ask if Noah could give it to me. “This is Daddy’s,” he informs, but hands it over anyway. “He likes it.”
“Is that so?” I grin, which makes my lip protest. Still worth it.
“Do you like strawberry or chocolate the most?” He narrows his eyes. This is clearly a test.
“Ice cream?” He nods solemnly. “Strawberry. Easy.”
His face lights up. “Same! Daddy says chocolate but he’s wrong.”
“So wrong.”
He pads into the kitchen, dinosaur on a leash thudding against every chair leg and doorframe. I follow more cautiously.
Cole’s at the counter, making coffee. Shorts. Sleeveless shirt.Unfair.I almost groan. He turns, gaze softening the moment it lands on me, then flicks to Noah.
“Noah, this is my friend, Xaden.”
“He took your shirt, daddy.”
