My stomach flips at the thought of what’s about to happen. I’ve never been more nervous in my life. I drive home, my mind racing with a hundred questions. What will he say? Will he be angry? Will he feel betrayed? I try to imagine how he’ll react, but I can’t predict it. I just know that this secret—it’s been holding me back for so long, and I can’t let it stand between us anymore.
When I pull into my driveway, my heart is pounding in my chest. I see Cole standing by my front door, his broad frame leaning against the porch railing. His eyes lock on mine as I step out of the car, and I feel a lump form in my throat.
He walks toward me, a slow smile spreading across his face. Without saying anything, he opens the door for me, and I step into his arms, clinging to him. The moment I’m in his embrace, all the emotions I’ve been holding back spill over, and I cry.
Cole pulls back slightly, his hands cradling my face, his thumb brushing away my tears. His eyes are filled with concern. “What is it, Kenna?” he asks, his voice soft, but I can hear the worry in it.
I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. “I need to tell you something,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to know that these past couple of months with you—getting to spend time with you again, talking like we used to—has only made everything clearer. I know what I want, and I want to be with you. I wanteverythingwith you.”
His eyes search mine, his hands still holding my face, and I see something shift in them. “What do you need to tell me?” he asks, his voice steady but filled with the same vulnerabilityI feel.
I nod, trying to calm my racing heart. “Let’s go inside. I can’t say it out here.”
We walk into the house, and I move straight to the kitchen to make us both a glass of chocolate milk, a small comfort from when we were younger. I grab the glasses, the syrup, and the milk, my hands shaking as I pour the drink. I place the glasses down on the table, then take a seat on the couch, crossing my legs in front of him, facing him directly.
“Do you remember the last time we...” I trail off, not sure how to phrase it.
He nods, his brow furrowing in curiosity. “Yeah, I remember.”
“After the accident...I couldn’t function without you. I was in a fog, Cole. My mom got worried, so she took me to the doctor. They asked if I had been sexually active, and I told them I had. They ran some tests, and a few days later, they told me I was pregnant.”
The word hangs in the air, and I watch as his face shifts from confusion to disbelief. He repeats the word quietly, “Pregnant?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Pregnant.”
Cole leans back against the couch, his eyes wide. “What happened next?”
“I couldn’t imagine not keeping the baby, Cole. He was the only piece of you I had left.” I say, my voice trembling. “So I had him. A little boy, Cohen Andrew Parker. Our little boy. He’s amazing, and he looks just like you. He’s funny and sweet and the best of both of us.”
Silence falls between us, and I watch the shock slowly settle in his expression. His eyes flicker with so many emotions, but I don’t know what any of them mean. I wait, my heart in my throat, for him to say something—anything.
Finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
My own tears well up as I meet his gaze. “Cole, I was scared. Iwas scared of losing you. Scared of what you’d think, of how you’d react.”
His hand reaches for mine, and he squeezes it gently. “I...I don’t know what to say. This is a lot. But he’s mine?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Cohen is yours.”
His thumb brushes over my knuckles, and for the first time since this conversation started, I see a flicker of hope in his eyes.
He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair, as if trying to process the storm of emotions inside him. “Look, Sunshine, this is a lot to take in right now. I don’t want to walk away from you or Cohen. But I need some time. Time to think, to figure out how to be the father he deserves.”
“Of course,” I say softly, relief washing over me mixed with fear. “I want you to meet him. When you’re ready. No pressure.”
He nods, eyes still searching mine. “But...I think we should pause whatever this is,” he says, gesturing vaguely between us. “I need to figure out where I stand.”
And with that, he stands, heading out the door.
I watch him go, feeling the ache of uncertainty settle deep in my chest. The conversation I’d hoped would bring us closer had instead carved a canyon between us. But maybe, just maybe, this was the first step toward something real. Something lasting.
I close the door behind him. The sound echoing in the quiet house. My hands tremble, my heart pounding in my ears. The night feels heavy, but beneath the fear, there’s a fragile spark of hope. We’re not where I dreamed we’d be. Yet. But we’re no longer where we were. And maybe that’s enough to start.
Chapter Twenty
BLOOD, BEER, AND BAD DECISIONS
COLE-PAST
