He frowns. “You left without saying goodbye.”
My chest squeezes. He’s right. It didn’t even occur to me. “I’m sorry, baby. I just needed a second to think.”
He studies me again. “Is it a bad-think or a good-think?”
“Both,” I admit. “A lot’s changing. I think I just needed a second to catch up with it all.”
He throws his arms around my neck again, and I hold him close, soaking in his warmth. “If something bad is coming, I’ll protect you, Mommy.”
Mommy.
The word hits me like a soft punch to the heart. He doesn’t say it much anymore. Not since he decided he was “too big” for it.
But now and then, it slips out. Like just now and I soak up the sound of it like sunlight in winter. I don’t correct or tease him. I just let it land where it belongs. Right in the middle of my aching, overwhelmed heart.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes again. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”
I squeeze him a little tighter, memorizing the way his arms feel around my neck. The way he still smells like shampoo and sun and the vanilla muffin he had earlier.
And the thing is, I do. Cohen has always been my motivation for everything. My anchor. My beginning and my second chance.
And as I hold him in that quiet hallway, I realize that maybe it’s time to stop letting fear be the loudest voice in the room.
Because this little boy deserves to know the whole truth.
And Cole deserves to know him.
The bell above the front door chimes as I step into the salon, the soft lighting and familiar calm is a relief after the noise outside. I move past the styling stations and down the hallway toward the back, until I reach my office. A small, private space that has become my sanctuary over the years.
But something is wrong. My purse—which I had left on the desk—is gone.
And then I see him.
Cole.
He’s sitting in the chair across from my desk, elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s been waiting. He looks up, andthose eyes—the ones I’ve seen every day in Cohen—lock onto mine.
He stands slowly. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Hey, Sunshine.”
The world tilts.
Everything inside me reacts all at once. Heat rushes to my cheeks, my heart stumbles in my chest, and a breath I didn’t know I was holding catches in my throat.
Before I can speak, he closes the distance and pulls me into his arms. I gasp, but my body doesn’t resist—it remembers.
The way we used to fit, the way his arms were always wide enough to hold all my broken pieces.
This scent—lemon, mint, jasmine—it’s him, all him, and it crashes into me like a wave I didn’t see coming.
His voice, deep and warm, whispers into my hair, sending shivers down my spine. “I’ve finally found my sunshine.”
God, I could break from that one line. He’s still calling me that. Like I never stopped being it. Like the years haven’t dulled his memory of who we used to be.
I am quiet for a moment, too overwhelmed by the force of everything. The familiarity of his embrace, the weight of years between us, and the reality that I am standing here, in the arms of the one person who had once made me feel seen.
Tears burn my eyes. “Cole…”
He pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on my shoulders as he looks down at me, eyes full of something that is both soft and intense. “I’ve been waiting to see you, Kenna. Every single day. I never wanted to leave you, and I know I fucked up. But I couldn’t make you wait for me. I know I hurt you, but I’m back. I’m here, Sunshine. I’m not going anywhere.”
