The words tumble out of him like a confession, and I can feel the ache behind them. The years, the silence, the longing.
His words hit me like a rush of wind, a jolt of lightning that sparks every nerve ending in my body. I want to pull away, to stop myself from falling into the gravitational pull, but I couldn’t. Itfeels like the years apart never happened. Like I’ve been waiting in a silent corner of my life for this moment, and now it’s finally here.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I whisper.
“I am so sorry. I wish I could’ve come back sooner,” he whispers, his hands cupping my face, brushing his thumb gently over my cheek. “But I am here now, and I swear I’ll never leave you again. I never stopped thinking about you, Kenna. Never.”
His eyes search mine, desperate and hopeful. And I hate the part of me that still wants to believe him, still wants to reach for the memory of us and make it real again.
For a moment, everything else in the world falls away. The chaos of the salon, the weight of my past, and the pressure of forgiveness—they are all irrelevant at this moment. All that mattered was that Cole was here. Right in front of me. And no matter how much time has passed, no matter how broken we have been, I still feel that pull.
That ache in my chest is for him. It’s always been him.
I should’ve been more prepared for this moment.
But how do you prepare for a ghost coming back to life?
The second Cole pulls me into his arms, my body seems to recognize him in a way my brain doesn’t. It is as if every cell in my body has been waiting for this, for him to return, to stand here in front of me, looking exactly like the boy I used to love.
Only now, there is something
He’s not a boy anymore. He’s a man—with years carved into his face and grief in his eyes. And yet…his love feels unchanged.
His warmth, his familiar scent, the strength of his arms around me—it was all so real, so undeniable, but then the memories flood back. Uninvited and unforgiving. How he had gone away.
I can feel the tension in my chest building, the conflicting emotions swirling.
“I finally have sunshine in my life,” he whispers again intomy hair.
And this time, the words don’t just hit me—they shatter something.
For a second, all I can do is stand there. His words don’t just hit me. They wreck me. It’s been so long—nine years—and I thought I was over it. I thought I’d moved on.
But here I am, standing in the arms of the person who once made me believe in things I didn’t even understand. And no matter how hard I try to deny it, there’s still a part of me, buried deep and stubborn, that’s still in love with him.
I have to be honest with myself. We have to be honest.
“Cole,” I pull back, just enough to meet his eyes, my hands resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palms. I swallow hard, trying to steady my racing thoughts. “It has been nine years. Nine. I’ve moved on. There was no other option. I just couldn’t wait for you.”
He flinches at my words, his eyes darkening, and I see the guilt flash across his face. But I’m not done yet.
“I don’t even know how to make sense of this anymore,” I continue, my voice shaking a little. “I thought I had put it all behind me. But every time I think about you, I realize…I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Even after everything that has happened.”
Cole’s expression softens, his thumb brushing across my cheek, as if trying to erase the doubt from my face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Ken. You know that. Back then, you were my life. You are my life. If I could go back??—”
“No,” I interrupt gently, shaking my head. “We can’t go back. We can’t undo what happened.”
He nods, his jaw tightening as if my words physically pain him. I could see how much he wanted to change the past, but I couldn’t hold on to that fantasy. I needed to accept that we’d both grown, both changed.
“I don’t need to go back, Kenna. I just need a chance,” he says, his voice low, almost desperate. “A chance to prove that I can be the person you deserve.”
“I’m not asking for a second chance, Cole,” I mumble. “I’m not sure if I’m even ready for that,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat. “I need something new. Something we can build from the ground up. How about we start as friends?”
The word hung between us, strange and fragile.
Friends. A soft word for a sharp ache.
It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but it feels like the only thing that makes sense. If I let myself fall back into whatever this was without taking the time to heal, without taking the time to figure out who we are now, I’d just be repeating the past. And I couldn’t afford to do that again.
