Still, I want to believe it’s a sign.
The beach is mostly empty, the waves soft and steady. We walk for a bit, and then Cole leads me to a small clearing, and I stop. I just... stop.
There’s a blanket on the sand, and next to it, two easels. Canvases. Paints. Brushes. All of it. The smell of saltwater fills the air, and I can hear seagulls overhead, but I can’t focus on any of that.
All I can see is this.
It’s the kind of gesture that hits you straight in the heart. Because only someone who really knows you would think of this. Only someone who remembers.
“Cole…” My voice is quiet, barely there.
He gives me a proud smile. “I thought maybe we could paint today. I figured it’s probably been awhile.”
Of course he remembered. He always remembered.
I sit on the blanket while he opens the basket. It’s packed with so many of my favorite things—meats, cheeses, raspberry tea. And there it is, tucked in the corner: cookie butter and saltines.
“You trying to bribe me?” I ask, eyeing the spread.
He shrugs, smirking. “Maybe. I’d do just about anything to see you smile.”
And the way he says it? It’s not a line. It’s just true.
The next few hours pass in that quiet, perfect way where nothing really has to be said. We talk a little, joke around, share memories. But most of it is just...easy. He pulls out his own canvas, and I pretend to work on mine, but really, I’m painting him.
Not just how he looks, but how he feels to me in this moment. Safe. Strong. Familiar.
I don’t tell him. Not yet. Some things are too personal, too intimate to share right away.
The sun starts to dip, and I finally finish. I set the brush down and sit with it for a second before turning the canvas toward him.
“Cole,” I say quietly. “I’m done.”
He stands up and walks over, and when he sees it, his breath catches.
“Sunshine,” he says, voice low, “that’s the best painting I’ve ever seen.”
He’s quiet for a second, like he’s letting the moment sit, and then he speaks again. His voice is raw, like he’s been holding it in for a long time.
“I have to tell you something I’ve wanted to say since I got back. This love that I’ve felt for you over the past decade…it isn’t just some fleeting thing. It’s not a one-hit wonder. It’s sheer love. A love so powerful that it’s ruined every single girl in the world for me. You’re it for me, Ken. And if you need more time, you can have it. But just know I will be here, waiting for you when you’re ready.”
My breath hitches. I realize in that moment I’ve never stopped being loved by him. Not even for a second.
My heart thunders in my chest as his words settle in. I don’t know how to respond, but I know one thing. He’s right. I’ve felt it too, this love that has never really gone away. I’ve tried to fill the space, tried to ignore it, but it’s always been there, quietly waiting for me to acknowledge it.
And now it’s staring me in the face with soft eyes and paint-streaked hands.
We drive back to my house, the sun sinking below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the car. Cole hums softly to a song that’s playing on the radio—For Youby Liam Payne and Rita Ora. When I glance over at him, I can see the faint smile tugging at his lips. He’s singing to me, and I feel my heart melt a little.
He always did that. Sang like I was the only one listening. Instead of the lyrics being words, they were confessions. I used to tease him about it. Now, I sit in silence and let it wrap around me like a memory I don’t want to wake up from.
When we pull up at my house, he turns to me with that grin again.
“Guess what? We’re going to dinner together. Go get dressed, Sunshine”
I laugh. “How long has this been on the plan for the day?”
He shrugs. “Since about 30 minutes ago, hurry and get dressed.”
