We finish eating, and once the pizza boxes are empty, Millie insists we bake cookies. Of course, she’s the best at baking, and I can’t argue with her. She’s talented, and the thought of warm, gooey cookies just makes everything feel even cozier. We get up and start pulling out the ingredients, the sound of measuring cups and spoons clinking filling the air.
While the cookies bake, we settle down to pick a movie. I suggest13 Going on 30, an old favorite. It’s the perfect choice for a night like this. We all know the lines by heart, but it doesn’t matter. It’s one of those movies that never gets old.
As the movie plays, we laugh at the same parts, reciting linesin unison. It’s comfortable, easy, and for a moment, I can almost forget about the loneliness I felt earlier. Almost.
By the time the movie ends, Millie and Lucie have both fallen asleep on the couch, their heads resting on each other. I get up, careful not to wake them, and make my way to my room. The silence in the house feels louder now, and I crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.
Just as I close my eyes, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I glance over and see that it’s a call from Cole’s mom. My heart skips a beat, and I immediately sit up, my pulse racing.
“Kenna?” she says, her voice strained and shaken. “There’s been an accident. Cole...Cole was in a car crash.”
The room feels like it’s spinning, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. “What? Is he okay?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line before she responds, her voice breaking. “He’s alive, but he’s in bad shape. He’s in the hospital right now. I—I don’t know what’s going to happen, Kenna. You need to come to the hospital. Right now.”
Everything in my body goes cold. My limbs feel heavy, and I can’t stop shaking. “Okay,” I say, my throat tight. “I’m coming. I’m on my way.”
I don’t even wait to hear the rest of her words. I throw the covers off, scrambling to get out of bed. My heart is pounding, and my mind is racing, but I can’t focus on anything except getting to Cole. I don’t care what’s happening. I just need to be there for him.
Grabbing my keys, I run down the stairs, skipping my jacket. I have to go. I need to be there.
The door slams behind me. The night air is icy against my skin, but I don’t even feel it. My hands are shaking as I jam the key into the ignition. The car engine roars to life, but I barely hear it over the scream in my chest.
And in the back of my mind, one thought keeps repeating.
Please be okay, Cole. Please be okay.
Chapter Twenty-Two
FATHER FIGURE IT OUT
COLE-PRESENT
The house feels too quiet.Too still. I stand in the middle of Kenna’s living room, my hand frozen mid-motion as I look down at the space where, just hours ago, everything felt...normal. Where everything felt right. Where I felt like I belonged. Now, the silence is crushing.
My son.
I can barely say the words, let alone believe them. For years, I’ve lived with so many regrets, thinking about the mistakes I made, wishing I had made different choices. But this...thischanges everything. I have a son. A little boy who, as Kenna said, looks just like me, but is better—better than both of us. I can’t wrap my mind around it.
The room spins as the weight of it hits me. I stumble back toward the couch and collapse, running my hands through my hair. Kenna had to go through all of this alone. Foryears. She carried our son, raised him by herself while I rotted away behind bars, unable to do a damn thing.
My heart clenches as I imagine it—the loneliness she must’ve felt, raising him without me there. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been the one to help her. Instead, I made choices that kept me locked up, thinking about my future, but never about thereal consequences of those decisions—the consequences that Kenna bore alone.
I can’t breathe.
I stand up and pace the room. The house feels too small now, like it’s suffocating me. The walls are too close. I need to get out. I need to move. I need to do something, anything to escape this gnawing feeling of regret and confusion.
I grab my jacket and storm out the door, not bothering to think about where I’m going. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, of my son, of Kenna, of everything I’ve missed. I just need to clear my head.
I drive.
I don’t know how long I’ve been driving when I pull into the bar parking lot. It’s familiar, but it feels foreign now. This place used to be a haven for me, a place where I could drown my sorrows in beer and forget the world. Tonight, though, I’m not here to forget. I’m here to talk. I need to talk.
Reuben, Asher, Josh, and Gabriel are there when I walk in. They’re sitting at the bar, laughing and talking like it’s just another Friday night. But it’s not. Not for me. Not anymore.
Reuben’s the first one to look up. He sees me, and I can tell he knows something’s wrong by the way his eyes narrow.
“Cole,” he says cautiously. “You good?”
