I look down at our joined hands, the warmth of her touch grounding me in the moment. Cohen needed me then, too. And I couldn’t be there for him. But hearing Kenna’s words now, I realize that I still have a chance. A chance to be the father Cohen deserves, the partner Kenna has always needed. And maybe I can make up for everything I lost.
I let out a slow, steady breath, the weight of the past still heavy but easier to bear. “I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I missed. Those years are gone, but Kenna…I swear, I’m never leaving you again.”
Kenna smiles softly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She leans in, pressing her forehead to mine, and I close my eyes, letting the moment sink into my bones. The pain of the past is still there, but it’s fading, replaced by something new. Something that feels like hope. Hope for the future. Hope for the family we’re building now.
“I know,” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin. “I know you’re not. And that’s all I need.”
We stay like that for a while, just breathing, just holding onto each other in the quiet of the lake. I know the past will always be a part of us, a shadow that lingers, but it doesn’t have to define us anymore. We’re here now. And that’s enough.
Eventually, the silence is broken by the sound of the boat gently cutting through the water, the world still and perfect, just for us. And in that moment, I realize that maybe, just maybe, we’ve found our way back to each other. To the life we should have had all along.
“Cohen saved you, huh?” I ask softly, the corners of my mouth lifting just slightly. “Guess that means I owe him one.”
Kenna laughs softly, a sound that fills the air around us. “I think he’ll be just fine with that.”
I squeeze her hand, my heart full, and I know in that instant that I’m going to make sure Cohen and Kenna know every day how much they mean to me. I’m not leaving them again. Never again.
Chapter Thirty
EXPECTING THE UNEXPECTED
KENNA-PAST
The past monthhas been a blur of sadness, confusion, and emotional exhaustion. Cole went to prison, and suddenly I feel like everything in my life has been taken from me. Nothing could have prepared me for how it would feel. I thought I could stay strong, but every night the tears come, and sleep only comes after crying myself through it.
It’s as though I’m constantly on the edge of breaking, and each time I close my eyes, I feel a wave of grief crash over me. I miss him so much. It’s not just the absence of his presence. It’s the emptiness that fills the spaces where our future used to be. He was my everything. And now, I don’t know what to do without him. His voice, his touch, his laugh…it’s like they’re all fading. But I can’t let go. I can’t move on. Not when he told me not to wait for him. Not when he told me to let go, to move on.
But how? How can I move on when I feel so lost? When every part of me aches for him?
The days blur together now. I wake up and pretend. I smile at the right time. I say I’m “fine” when people ask. But inside, I’m screaming. Inside, I feel like I’m dissolving. Like I’m just smoke where a person used to be.
I overhear my parents talking. At the kitchen table, trying topretend I’m fine, the conversation between my mom and dad comes through the crack of the door. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I hear enough to make my stomach drop.
“I know she loves him, and I knew this would be hard for her,” my dad says, his voice thick with worry. “But it’s impossible for me to see her like this. She’s not the same.”
My mom sighs, a sound full of helplessness. “I know. I think maybe…maybe we should take her to see someone. A doctor. Just to see if there’s something we can do. I don’t want her to be this way.”
My dad goes quiet for a second, and I can feel the weight of his gaze from the other side of the door. “Maybe you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to get her help. I just…I want her to be okay. To have some hope of a future.”
Hope. That word hits me harder than I expected. I don’t know what hope even looks like anymore. I used to see it in Cole’s eyes. Now I just see loss.
I don’t give them the satisfaction of hearing me cry anymore. Instead, I feel the frustration bubbling inside me. They don’t understand. They don’t get it. How could they? How could anyone? They haven’t lost the person they love. They haven’t had their future ripped out from under them.
I push the door open with a loud snap, stepping into the room, my voice coming out sharp. “I’m not crazy,” I snap, my chest tight with frustration. “You think I’m broken, don’t you? That I’m just some sad girl who can’t handle her boyfriend going to prison?”
My parents both jump, startled. My mom’s eyes widen, and my dad looks as if someone slapped him. But I don’t care. I can’t hold it in anymore.
“I’m not fine,” I continue, with my words tumbling out in a rush. “I miss Cole. He’s all I think about, and it’s killing me. And yeah, I cry because he’s gone, and I don’t know how to deal with that. But he told me not to wait for him! He told me to move on, but I don’t know how to do that! So yeah, my life is a mess,because I don’t know who I am or what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
My dad opens his mouth, probably to tell me to calm down, but I shoot him a look so sharp he just blinks and stays silent. I don’t want calm. I want understanding. I want someone to feel what I feel for just one second.
My mom opens her mouth to say something, but I’m already turning away. I don’t want to hear it. I just need them to understand how lost I feel.
The next day, I sit in a sterile doctor’s office, my palms sweating. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve never been the type of person who gets anxious about doctors. But today…today, everything feels different.
The room is too quiet, too still. My mom’s sitting beside me, her face soft with concern, but I can’t bring myself to say anything. I can’t even look at her. She keeps trying to reassure me, but nothing she says feels real.
“You okay?” she whispers for the third time.
