“No, you don’t.” The words come faster now, sharp enough that even I flinch a little. “You know whatever version of it you’ve heard from him. You don’t know what it felt like to have him look at me like I was trash. You don’t know what it felt like to be accused of using him and his daughter as temporary housing.”
Cole purses his lips. “He was wrong. We know that much.”
That stops me. For one stupid second, there’s a flicker of hope in my chest, but then it dies. Cole saying it doesn’t mean thatGraysonthinks that.
“Yeah, well, maybe someone should tell him that.”
“We have,” Maddox says.
“And?”
He glances at Cole.
That glance tells me everything.
I laugh once, brittle and miserable. “Right.”
Cole rests both hands on the counter, leaning in a little. “He’s in bad shape, Carly. He’s not, uh, coping well.”
My throat tightens.I don’t want to care.God, I don’t want to care, but my stupid heart is apparently a weak, feeble thing, and it grips onto that before I can stop myself. “Is Penelope okay?” I ask.
Cole’s expression softens. “Yeah. Dana and I have been watching her when Gray can’t. She misses you.”
That hits me directly in the ribs.
Maddox’s voice is gentler when he speaks again. “He needs to talk to you.”
My throat closes. “No.”
Zoe goes still.
Cole exhales. “Carly?—”
“No,” I say again, and this time the wobble in my voice hardens into something else. “I am not the problem. I’m not going to go to him and beg to be heard again.”
The answering silence makes my ears ring.
“I wasn’t the one who accused him of lying,” I continue. “I didn’t decide the worst possible thing about him and then treat it like fact. I didn’t shut him out. I didn’t send a two-sentence text ending everything. He did.”
Cole’s jaw flexes.
I stare at him, needing someone in this room to understand. “I love him. I love Penelope. I loved my job, at Sparkks and at home. I loved all of it. And he decided none of that mattered because I had a backup plan from before he ever made me feel safe enough not to need one.”
Maddox looks down, exhaling awkwardly.
Cole drags a hand over his mouth. “I know. You’re right.”
I nod, but it doesn’t feel good.Being right feels awful, actually.
“He’s just... stubborn,” Cole says.
“I don’t care.” My voice cracks. “He can be stubborn alone. I’m not going to beg him to believe I’m not a bad person.”
“None of us think you are,” Maddox says.
My mouth pulls into a sad little smile. “That’s nice. But you’re not the one who mattered most.”
Another customer opens the door, the bell above it jingling too brightly for the mood in the room. Some guy in a CU hoodie steps inside, waltzes up to the counter, and asks Zoe for a hazelnut cappuccino.
