She leans slightly out, brows lifted. “Hey,” she says, almostlike it’s an afterthought—but her voice is too careful, too deliberate.
I pause, surprised. “Yeah?”
“There’s a pizza place still open late on Main.” She shrugs. “If you’re around later this week.”
My chest tightens, but in a good way. “I’ll be around.”
“Okay,” she says, smiling—not forced this time, but real. “I’ll see you soon then?”
“Definitely.”
She nods once, then disappears inside for good.
This time, I don’t linger. I turn and start back down the sidewalk as the morning stretches out around me. I should feel heavy after that, uncertain—but I feel something else entirely.
Hope.
The conversation wasn’t earth-shattering. It didn’t solve anything, but it was honest. Easy. A reminder that something between us still exists. That maybe we’re not so far gone after all.
I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t need to. What I do know is I’m here. I’m staying. I’ll be patient.
And maybe next time, it’ll be over a slice of pizza.
Or a cup of coffee.
Or something that feels like a beginning.
Chapter Six
STIRRING UP THE SAUCE AND THE PAST
KENNA-PRESENT
The heater humssoftly as I drive, but the warmth does nothing to ease the tight knot in my chest, It’s not the cold outside getting to me. It’s that damn conversation. The one I had with Cole outside the salon. I’ve been thinking about it all day. It was…light. Casual. Almost normal? Like the past hadn’t carved deep lines through both of us.
Buteverything has changed.
The road blurs beneath my tires as I turn onto the familiar streets that lead to my parents house. I grip the steering wheel a little too tight, my thoughts racing faster than the car.
I should be used to this by now—the whirlwind of emotion that hits every time he’s near. But I’m not. I don’t think I ever will be.
A part of me is relieved, like we can still be normal. Maybe even friends, but another part of me is screaming that this is exactly the problem.
Just friends.
That’s not what I want. Not really. Not deep down.
But I know I can’t go back to how things were. I don’t think he can either. Too much time has passed. Too much harm has been caused.
And prison…it changes people. It changed both of us. I didn’t serve time, but I lived in the shadow. I lived in the silence of waiting, of not knowing, of aching for someone who was always just out of reach.
I remember the day they took him away. The sound of the cuffs. The way he looked at me like he was already sorry. I just stood there, helpless. I watched my whole future crumble, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
And now he’s back. Like a ghost, but real. Walking and breathing and trying. I hate that I still want to trust him. That a part of me still hopes.
But more than anything, I hate the secret I’m still carrying.
Cohen.
