The words sound hollow, like I’m trying to bring something back that’s already been shattered. I feel like a part of me is missing, like something has been ripped out of my chest, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Reuben doesn’t hesitate. He holds me tighter, rubbing my back as if trying to soothe me, but his voice cracks when he speaks. “I know, Kenna. I know. If there was something I could do to make it all go away, I would. But it’s not that simple.”
“I don’t know how I’ll survive if he goes to prison, Reuben,” I say, my words breaking apart. I choke on the sentence, my heart constricting with the fear of the unknown. “Ten years...ten years without him. It feels like a lifetime. How am I supposed to go on without him?”
The room falls silent. I’m not sure if Reuben knows what to say either. He just looks at me, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrors my own. I see the weight of his own grief in his expression. We both know that Cole’s fate is out of our hands.
After a long moment, Reuben reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. His voice is steady, but I can hear the strain in it. “You’re going to be okay,” he says, though I can tell he doesn’tentirely believe it. “And so is Cole. We’re all here for you, Kenna. You’re not alone in this.”
The words are comforting, but they don’t reach deep enough. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.
I fall to pieces again. Mourning the life that should have been mine, the life Cole and I dreamed of. I weep for the parts of my life that are vanishing and the dreams that are dissolving. I cry for the love that feels like it’s slipping out of my grasp.
“He’s the love of my life, Reuben,” I say, my voice breaking as I say the words I’ve been too afraid to admit. “It sounds crazy, but I don’t know what to do without him. I love him so much. I just—I don’t want to lose him.”
Reuben doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something that makes it worse. But he just holds me tighter. After a few moments, he finally speaks, his voice soft and full of compassion.
“I know, Kenna,” he says. “I know. And I don’t think you’ll lose him. But you have to be strong now. Not just for you, but for him too. He needs you more than ever.”
His words hit me like a wave, crashing over me and making it harder to breathe. He’s right. I can’t fall apart completely. I have to keep going. For Cole. For me. For all of us.
But as the days pass, I still can’t shake the feeling of helplessness. I try to distract myself, to keep busy, but it’s impossible. Every time I close my eyes, the image of Cole in that hospital bed flashes before me. His body, bruised and broken, makes me feel like I’m drowning in fear.
The night before the hearing, I sit alone in my room. My phone is within reach, and for the hundredth time tonight, I hover over it. I want to text Cole. He needs to know I’m here. I love him, and I won’t quit. I want to reassure him he’s not alone. But I don’t know what to say. The words feel stuck, like they’re trapped in my chest, just out of reach. So, I do what I always do when I feel overwhelmed. I type.
“I love you, Cole,” I type, my fingers trembling asI write the words. “You’re going to get through this. I’ll be right here, supporting you every step of the way.”
I stare at the screen, my heart aching in my chest, but I don’t hit send. The tears come again, unstoppable. I feel like I’m drowning in them. The future we were supposed to have, the plans, the promises—all of it feels so far away. I turn my phone off, bury myself in my covers, and try to sleep. But sleep is elusive. Every time I close my eyes, I see him—the broken, battered version of him in that hospital bed. The pain doesn’t stop.
I press the pillow tighter against my chest, like it might make the ache go away. Like it could be him. But it’s not. And it never will be.
The morning of the hearing is the worst I could have imagined. My stomach is in knots. I feel like I’m about to be sick. I barely touch my breakfast. My dad is already downstairs, reading over papers with a grim look on his face. My mom moves around the kitchen, her movements mechanical. It feels like the entire world is on pause, holding its breath.
“Kenna, we need to talk,” my dad says as soon as I walk in. His voice is tight, and I can tell he’s been holding something in. He doesn’t look up from the paper he’s holding, but I can see the tension in his posture.
“I’ve been doing some research,” he continues, and I can hear the concern in his voice. “The best-case scenario is that Cole gets five years. Worst-case, it’s ten. The minimum is three, but don’t get your hopes up.”
The weight of his words presses down on me. Three years. Ten years. None of it seems real. Ten years without him...I feel like I’m suffocating.
I nod, trying to process everything. I need to be strong. For Cole. For me. For all of us. But inside, my mind is spiraling. How will I survive this? How will I survive without him?
As we get ready to leave, I pull out a dress—a floral one. It’s the one Cole always tells me looks good on me. Iknow it’s silly, but I want him to see me, to know I’m still here, still holding on, even if I don’t know what’s coming next.
When I walk downstairs, my parents are already in the car. My dad gives me a sidelong glance.
As I climb in, I see the concern in his eyes. But I’m more worried about what happens next. What happens when we walk into that courtroom? What happens when I see Cole again?
The courthouse is a blur. The walls close in around me as we walk through the hallways. My legs feel shaky, but I can’t stop moving. When I finally make it to the courtroom, my heart races in my chest. I can’t breathe. Though I don’t spot Cole at first, I can feel that he’s here. I know he’s here somewhere in the room. And then, I see him.
He’s sitting in a chair, dressed in a suit, and for a split second, I don’t recognize him. He looks so different, so distant. His eyes meet mine, and for just a moment, I think I see a spark of hope in them. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. The man I love is sitting there, so broken and distant.
I want to run to him, to throw myself into his arms and tell him everything will be okay. But I can’t. I’m frozen in place, just staring at him. The world around me seems to fall away, and all I can see is him. The boy I love, trapped in a nightmare I don’t know how to fix.
The trial begins. I watch him plead guilty. The words rip through me. He’s taking responsibility for what happened, but it’s clear that it’s killing him inside. He’s not the same person who left for that party. And then the worst moment comes.
The judge speaks, and I hear the words that will change everything.
“I’ve come to a decision. I am sentencing Cole Parker to ten years at Glenwood Correctional Facility,” the judge says, his voice cold and final.
