That was all it took. Two words, and I was twenty-three again, standing in a hotel lobby at two in the morning, watching a man walk out of my life like I was nothing.
The phone buzzed again. I picked it up this time, against my better judgment.
I know you're ignoring me. I deserve that. But please, Kim. I just want to talk. I need to explain.
Another one, seconds later.
I never stopped thinking about you, babygirl. Not once.
I set the phone face-down on the kitchen counter.
I couldn't believe I was reliving this. I'd dealt with it. I'd packed every memory of Cole Matthews into a box, shoved it into the darkest corner of my mind, and bricked up the wall behind it. I'd built a life. A real life, with Zoe and my two jobs and my tiny apartment. I'd convinced myself he was firmly in the past, a lesson learned, a wound that had scarred over.
And now here he was, texting me like six years hadn't happened. Like he hadn't vanished when I needed him most.
But I shouldn't be surprised. That was how our relationship had always worked. Cole would disappear for weeks, sometimes months, and then show up at the hotel where I worked like no time had passed at all. He'd bring flowers. He'd make promises. He'd look at me with those blue eyes and tell me he was sorry, he'd do better, he'd be the man I deserved.
And I'd believed him. Every single time.
The worst part was that I hadn't been looking for anything when we met. I was fine on my own. Good, even. I had my job at the front desk, my routine, my rules. Rule one: no frolicking with hotel guests. Rule two: absolutely no frolicking with hotel guests.
Then Cole Matthews walked into the lobby at midnight, charm turned up to eleven, and offered to help me with a difficult customer who wouldn't leave. One conversation turned into coffee. Coffee turned into dinner. Dinner turned into two years of hoping he'd become the man he kept promising to be.
He never did.
I shook my head, pushing away from the counter. No. I wasn't going to think about this. My reaction when I saw him at the office wasn't because I was still hurt. I'd gotten past the hurtyears ago. Seeing him again was just... shocking. That was all. A shock to the system. Nothing more.
I almost believed it.
My phone buzzed with a different notification. Xavier's name flashed on the screen.
Charity event tonight. Kealoha Foundation. 7 PM. Grandmother specifically requested you bring Zoe. I'll pick you up at 6:30.
I stared at the message. A charity event. Tonight. In two hours.
I didn't want to go. I wasn't in the mood for smiling and small talk and pretending everything was fine. And the fact that Eleanor had specifically requested Zoe made me even more reluctant. I'd agreed to continue this arrangement, but Zoe was supposed to stay on the periphery. Not get pulled deeper into a family that wasn't really hers.
"Mommy! Mommy, look!"
Zoe came barreling into the kitchen, her favorite doll clutched in her hands. She held it up triumphantly, and I saw what she'd done. Bright red lipstick—my lipstick, the one nice tube I owned—was smeared across the doll's plastic face in an enthusiastic approximation of makeup.
"I made her pretty!" Zoe announced. "Like you!"
I should have been annoyed about the lipstick. Instead, I laughed. The sound surprised me, loosening something tight in my chest.
"She's beautiful," I said. "But next time, ask Mommy before you borrow her makeup, okay?"
"Okay." Zoe was already distracted, adjusting the doll's dress. "Can I do her hair next?"
"Sure, baby." I pulled her toward me and attacked. "But first—the kiss monster!"
Zoe shrieked with delight as I peppered her face with kisses. She squirmed and giggled, trying to escape, but I held her tight, my lips finding her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. Her laughter filled the apartment, bright and pure and perfect.
This. This was what mattered. Not Cole and his texts. Not the past trying to claw its way back into my present. Just this. My daughter. My heart.
A knock on the door interrupted us.
Zoe froze mid-giggle. "Who's that?"
