“So…is he gonna come back someday?”
The air in my lungs gets tight. “Maybe,” I say, my voice cracking just a little. “That depends on a lot of things. But if he does…I promise, you’ll know first. And you’ll have a say. Okay?”
Cohen looks at me for a long moment, as if he’s trying to read between the lines. There’s something deeper in his gaze than I’m ready for. Understanding, trust, and a quiet resilience that I both admire and ache for.
“Okay,” he says finally, leaning his head against my arm. “But if I get to meet him…I hope he’s cool.”
I let out a laugh that’s half-broken and half-whole. “Me too, kiddo.”
We sit like that for a while, his little body warm against mine, his heartbeat slow and steady. And I know then: the cracks are forming. The truth, the one I’ve tucked away for years, is rising. It won’t stay buried forever.
Later, I step upstairs quietly to get ready. Hallie arrives to babysit—Cohen greets her with an enthusiastic high five before diving right back into his comic. The moment is light, easy. But when I kneel beside him to say goodbye, his eyes lift to mine, bright and gentle.
“Mom, you look really pretty tonight.”
The words stop me cold in the best way. I smile, swallowing the sudden swell of emotion in my throat. “Thanks, sweetie.”
I brush a kiss against his forehead. “Be good for Hallie, alright? I’ll be back soon.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I head out the door, but the weight of that couch moment lingers. The question. The answer. And the fragile disguise of love and carefully chosen silences I’ve woven around him. Every step I take into the night feels heavier than the last.
I can’t help but wonder how much longer I’ll be able to protect him from what he doesn’t know.
The Whiskey Barrel is busy when I walk in, the dim light casting long shadows over the wood-paneled walls. The scent of whiskey and wood smoke fills the air. I spot Nathan sitting at the bar and walk over, my heels clicking lightly on the floor.
“Hey beautiful,” Nathan says with a smile, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “I got your drink already.”
“Thanks,” I say, sliding onto the stool beside him. I manage a smile, but it feels stiff. When I see him, the warmth that is usually quick to rise in my chest is dulled. It’s like I’m watching myself from outside my body.
Nathan’s easygoing at first, launching into a story about one of his clients at the dealership, the way he always does. He makes me laugh, just like he always does. I can pretend everything is normal for a few minutes. That I’m happy and I’m not holding something inside that doesn’t belong in this relationship.
But slowly, something shifts. I feel it like a tide pulling back. My smile fades. I stir the melting ice in my drink, eyes flicking toward the door every so often.
Eventually, Nathan notices. He sets his drink down, turning toward me.
“Alright,” he says, “do you want to tell me what’s going on, or are we going to sit here pretending everything’s fine?”
I blink. “I told you—I’m just tired.”
“You’re always tired lately.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. “Kenna, we’ve been together for four months. I’ve met your brothers, your sisters, even had dinner with your parents…but not once—not even once—have I met Cohen.”
I stiffen.
“He’s the most important person in your life,” Nathan continues. “And I get it. You’re protective, and I respect the hell out of that. When will you allow me to join your life? You say you want something real, and I’m trying to give you that. But it feels like you’ve got one foot out the door, and the other buried in a life I’m not allowed to be part of.”
His words cut through the noise. I look down, my hands curling around my glass. It’s not fair to him. He’s not wrong. And yet how can I let him into that part of my life when I’m still lying about who Cohen really belongs to?
“Nathan…” I begin, but he interrupts.
“No, please let me finish. Being a dad isn’t my goal. I’m not looking for a grand gesture. I want to feel like I am dating all of you. Not just the parts you show me when it’s easy or convenient.”
My stomach twists. Guilt swells like a wave, and I don’t know where to put it. Because he’s right. I know I can’t do what he’sasking. Not with this secret between me and the rest of the world. Not when the shadow of Cole is still so present in my life.
“I need time,” I whisper. “It’s not about you. It’s just…complicated.”
