It’ll be ok.Just let yourself explore.
“Sounds fun.” I pause, then go for it, ignoring my common sense. “So, your mom died, and your dad met someone else?”
More recent articles showed his dad with a woman, whom I assume is the kids’ mom.
Cole glances at me. “Yeah, a few years later. Hank was born shortly after. I didn’t know it then, but my dad started having noticeable cognitive issues. He wasn’t all there.” He taps his head. “After Liv was born, my dad declined fast. Their mom decided motherhood wasn’t the life she wanted and took off. They divorced, and Maggie came home to take care of them. He was in a facility until he died.”
I try to process it all. Cole was so young when his mom died, and his dad continued to play football for a few years after. Then, he married and had more children.
Cole’s head hangs, staring at his hands, lost in thought.
I can imagine how lonely he must have felt, surrounded by people but alone. It’s no wonder he keeps himself closed off and isolated.
A thousand lightbulbs go on in my head, and so much falls into place. Cole lives for football. The game ties him to his dad and to the time they spent together. It was the one thing he had when he lost everything else.
I have the urge to lean over and hug him tight, but—
“How about you?”
I side-eye him, my arms tense with indecision.
“Did you know your parents?”
My erratic stomach drops to my pelvic floor and lands hard.
I knew this would lead to questions. I tuck my hair behind my ear, needing to get myself out of it.
It’d be ok if he knew.Would it?
“No.” My heart kicks into a jog, and I fist the clothes on my lap. “Track and Hope are the closest I’ll ever know to parents.”
“Did you. . .grow up in foster care?” he asks, so carefully and softly, but it feels like a boot being slammed into my chest.
I stand, needing these questions to stop. “Briefly.” It’s all I can say.
Sensing it, he also stands, and I feel him watching me.
“I need to check in with Track and see if they have any leads.”
He watches me as I gather my stuff.
“Ok.” His gentle voice bounces off my back. “I’ll head up and see what the plan is for today.”
I nod but don’t make eye contact, quickly shutting myself in the bathroom.
I sit on the edge of the tub, dropping my head in my hands.
What the hell am I doing?
I breathe in and out, the burn in my throat swelling it shut. I won’t fucking cry about this—what I think I might want and what can never be.
How could I possibly let someone so good and so beautiful see?
Where I started, the places I’ve been, and the things I’ve done. . .how could it ever be ok?
I swipe at the damp streak on my cheek. He said he didn’t want me to hide from him, but he doesn’t know. He can’t even begin to understand.
It’s so clear being here with his family. The world they exist in and come from. He and I are light and dark. Two entirely different universes.
