Asher looks at me with a guarded expression. “Don’t make it about you, Cole. Let her find her way.”
I nod, but I don’t have any words left. I stand up, feeling like I need some air. “Thanks for the talk,” I say, then leave before I overthink it all.
I leave the bar not long after, the cool night air hitting me like a wall. The truth of their words hangs heavy in the air, but also, strangely, there’s something freeing about it. I know what I need to do.
When I get home, the house is dark except for the kitchen, where my mom is still awake reading. She looks up when I walk in, glasses perched on her nose.
“How was the bar?” She asks, her voice calm, but warm.
“Fine,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “Talked to Reuben. And Asher.”
Her eyes soften, and she leans back in her chair, her hands folding in front of her. “How’s Kenna?”
I sigh, sinking into the chair opposite of her. “Not great. Her brothers says she’s different, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
She studies me for a long moment before speaking. “You can’t fix it, dear. Sometimes you just have to be there for someone, even when they don’t ask for it. That girl’s always been strong, but even strong people break, sweetheart. And you were part of her heart. When that kind of love gets torn away, it leaves a scar.”
I take a deep breath, letting her words sink in. “Mom, I still love her. I always will. But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore.”
She reaches out, placing a hand on mine, her touch steady. “If it’s meant to be, Cole, it’ll work out. You can’t force it. But you can’t walk away from her either. You just have to be patient.”
I nod, absorbing her words, feeling like I might understand.Maybe patience is all I need right now. Just be there. No expectations.
The next morning, I lace up my shoes and hit the pavement. The town is still waking up, and the air is cool and sharp. I run past old haunts, through the streets we used to walk together, passed the library where she loved to spend hours on end reading. Without meaning to, I end up in front of the salon.
Kenna’s inside.
She has pulled up her hair, and she laughs softly at something someone says. But the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I stand across the street, breath catching, heart pounding.
Then she looks up.
And our eyes lock.
Kenna blinks like she’s not sure if she’s really seeing me, then her mouth pulls into a soft, almost hesitant smile. She murmurs something to the person beside her, then disappears from view.
The salon door swings open seconds later, and there she is.
She steps out into the morning light, wearing an oversized beige cardigan over a soft blue dress that I swear I’ve seen her wear a dozen times before. She looks tired. Beautiful. Guarded.
“Cole?” she says, her voice soft.
I nod, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Hey.”
The air between us crackles with old familiarity and new distance.
She tilts her head, offering a small smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you out here. Thought you were a night owl, not an early riser.”
I try to relax, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, just needed to get out. Clear my head, you know?”
She leans against the doorframe, arms folded lightly across her chest. “Seems like everyone has been doing that lately.”
There’s a beat of silence, long enough to feel it but not long enough to escape it.
“I saw the flowers,” she says, her voice gentler now. “And the art set.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should’ve sent them,” I admit. “But I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. About…everything.”
Kenna’s fingers tighten slightly around her arms. “They were beautiful. The hibiscus especially. My mom cried when she saw them.”
