I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but my heart is racing. “What does that mean? Trying? What happens next?”
Cole looks at me for a long moment, like he’s searching for the right words, weighing his next step. Finally, he smiles, a small, tender smile that reaches his eyes. “Next? Well, we take it one day at a time. And if that means starting over, then we start over. Together. I’m not in any rush. Just...being here, being with you is enough for me.”
The simplicity of it all hits me, and I feel like I can finally breathe. I don’t need everything figured out right now. All I need is to trust that what we have is worth fighting for.
As I look into his eyes, I realize that it’s not just about what happened in the past, or what might have been. It’s about what’s in front of us now, about the space we’re carving for each other in this new chapter of our lives.
I lean forward slowly, my hand still in his, and I kiss him again, this time with more certainty. The kiss is soft at first, gentle, like we’re both testing the waters, but it deepens as I feel his arms pull me closer, the familiar warmth wrapping around me like a blanket. For a moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. It’s just us—us and the quiet, the promise of something new, something worth fighting for.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless, and I see the same mix of emotions in his eyes—hope, desire, but also a quiet understanding of where we are and what comes next.
“So,” he says, his voice hushed but playful as he runs a hand through his hair, “what happens now?”
I chuckle softly, my heart feeling lighter than it has in ages. “Now? Now we'll figureit out. Together.”
Cole smiles, his eyes softening. “I can do that.”
And then, after a beat, he adds, “Can I stay the night?”
The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, I hesitate. I want him here. I want to feel the warmth of his body beside me, to wake up next to him and start the day knowing we’re in this together. But there’s a part of me that’s still scared. Still unsure of how quickly I should let him back into my life, into my space. I glance toward the hallway, where Cohen’s laughter still echoes from his room, and my heart swells with emotion.
I look back at Cole, and the answer comes without hesitation. “Yes. Please stay.”
His smile is slow, genuine, as he shifts to make room beside me on the couch, pulling me to his side. As I rest my head on his chest, I listen to the steady beat of his heart, the comforting sound of him being here. And for the first time in so long, I feel at peace.
We’re not fixed yet, but maybe we don’t have to be. Maybe, just maybe, we’re finally heading in the right direction.
And that’s enough for now.
Later that night, after Cohen’s asleep and the house has gone still, I lay awake beside Cole. The lights are off. The hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen fills the silence, and I can hear the rhythm of his breathing beside me, slow and even.
My fingers rest lightly on the sheets between us, just touching his. I don’t move. I don’t want to break the spell.
How many nights did I imagine this? Not the perfect reunion, not some romantic movie ending—but this. Quiet. Ordinary. The night people take for granted. A second chance curled into blankets and warm breath and the knowledge that no one is leaving in the morning.
He shifts slightly, his hand finding mine in the dark, and I feel his thumb brush softly across my skin.
“Can’t sleep?” he whispers.
I shake my head, not realizing until then that tears are already pooling in my eyes. “I don’t know how to be this open with you again.”
He doesn’t rush to answer. He just holds my hand tighter. “Then let me remind you.”
And I realize then that it doesn’t have to be perfect. We just have to want it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SCOOP, THERE IT IS
KENNA-PAST
It’s a quiet summer afternoon,the kind where the sun hangs low in the sky and casts golden light through my window, making everything feel warm and lazy. I’m in my room with the door closed, and the breeze from the fan circulates the air. It’s a perfect day to relax and let time slip by.
I’m lost in the rhythm of playing Papa’s Freezeria, my fingers moving quickly across the keys as I try to match the colorful cups and perfect ice cream swirls. The sound of the game fills the space around me, the upbeat music giving everything a whimsical feel. My mind wanders for a moment as I get into a routine. I don’t even notice how much time has passed. It’s one of those moments where I can escape everything around me and focus solely on a game, but just as I get into the groove, I hear a knock at the door.
I furrow my brow, distracted from my game.
“Reuben!” I yell, my voice echoing through the house. I’m hoping he’ll get up and answer it for me. He’s closer after all. But there’s no answer. I wait for a moment, continuing to swipe at the screen absentmindedly, but the knocking continues, more insistent now.
