For the first time, I feel like we’re on the same page. For the first time, I’m not holding everything together on my own.
It’s Sunday now. Cohen and I have always shared this day. Our special day.
There’s always been something sacred about Sundays. No distractions, no interruptions—just us, having fun, making memories. It’s the day that I’ve always looked forward to. But today is different. Today, Cole is here. And I’m unsure how to balance all of this.
I keep glancing at him from across the room, unsure if I’m more nervous for Cohen or for him. Cole’s sitting on the edge of the couch like he doesn’t quite belong on the furniture, like he’s trying not to make a footprint.
I look at Cole as we sit in the living room, both of us silent, lost in our own thoughts. He tells me he crashed at Reuben’s place the past couple of nights, and I can’t help but wonder what that was like for him. Reuben has been a part of my life for so long, and I’m sure Cole needed a familiar face to lean on.
“Reuben told me Sundays were your day with Cohen,” Cole says, his eyes looking toward the window. “Where is he?”
I smile softly, feeling the warmth in my chest as I think about my son. “My mom’s on her way with him. They’ve been spending the weekend together, and Cohen loves that. He always gets so excited when she comes. It’s their little tradition.”
Cole nods slowly, but his gaze stays fixed out the window. “I was thinking about what you said. About how he doesn’t know everything yet. It scares me—how delicate this all feels. Like if I move too fast, I could ruin it. But I want to get it right, Kenna.”
“You will,” I breathe. “You already are, just by being here.”
He exhales a shaky breath, and I watch the way his fingers drum against his knee, like he’s trying to ground himself in the moment. I know that feeling all too well. The sensation that if you let go for even a second, the whole thing might slip through your fingers.
There’s something heartbreakingly vulnerable about him in this moment. This isn’t the boy I used to sneak kisses with in the back of his truck. This is a man who’s survived loss, confinement, regret. And he’s trying—really trying—not to let it all swallow him.
I glance at the clock. I know they’ll be here soon. Cohen will be so happy to see me. He always is. And the thought of introducing him to Cole without him knowing the full truth is making my heart race. I hope it’s the right decision. I hope Cohen can handle it.
Before I can say anything else, I hear a car pulling into the driveway. I stand up, feeling the excitement in my stomach. I can already hear Cohen’s voice, yelling for me.
A moment later, the door opens, and my mom steps inside, holding Cohen’s hand. He doesn’t see Cole at first—he’s too busy looking up at me, his face lighting up the moment his eyes meet mine.
“Mom!” he exclaims, running straight into my arms. “I missed you a zillion times!”
I laugh, hugging him tight. “I missed you too, baby. More than a zillion.”
I kiss his head, holding him close, breathing in the scent of his hair. He’s getting so big. My little boy is growing up, and it’s hard to keep up sometimes.
Cohen pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning the room. That’s when he sees Cole. His expression shifts, confusion clouding his face. He looks back at me, then at Cole, then back at me again.
“I remember you. You were at Uncle Reuben’s restaurant.” he asks, his voice small but curious.
I take a deep breath, kneeling down to his level. “Cohen, thisis a friend of mine from high school. His name is Cole. He’s visiting, and I was wondering if he could come on our adventure today.”
Cohen tilts his head, studying Cole for a moment. And then, without missing a beat, he sticks out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Cohen. Do you like comics?”
Cole blinks, taken aback by the question, but then smiles, clearly relieved by Cohen’s warm and easygoing nature. “Yeah,” he says, shaking Cohen’s hand. “I like comics.”
“Well then, you can come with us,” Cohen announces, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.
There’s a flicker of something in Cole’s expression. A mixture of disbelief and awe, like he never expected to be let in so easily. Like Cohen just handed him the key to a locked door he’d been staring at from the outside for years.
I smile, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. Maybe this is going to be okay. Maybe, just maybe, we can make this work.
Cole glances at me for a split second, and there’s something unspoken in that look. Gratitude. Fear. Maybe even something close to hope. Like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he’s scared to breathe too deeply in case it all disappears.
“So, Cohen,” I ask, standing up and brushing off my knees. “What do you want to do today?”
Cohen thinks for a moment, his eyes lighting up. “I don’t know. I have so much I want to do! We could go to the park. Or the comic shop. Or...or...”
His excitement is a spark, lighting the air around us. It’s like watching the world open for the first time all over again. I used to think I protected him by keeping him away from the pain of what he didn’t know. But now I see maybe I was also keeping him from healing.
His excitement is infectious, and I smile. It’s moments like this that make everything feel worthwhile. Moments where I can just be with him, enjoying his energy, his joy.
