“Thanks,” I said softly, sinking back slightly against the pillows. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry,Didi! You came home late.”
She pulled the duvet back over me and tucked it gently around my shoulders the way an older sister might.
“We’ll be back soon,” she said warmly. “Sleep well.”
The bedroom door closed quietly behind her.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling.But even with the house now quiet again, my mind drifted right back to the same place it had been all morning.
Back to the memory of Cole.
And the way his arms had felt around me the night before.
After two hours of sleep,I woke up feeling a little refreshed. The house was quiet again, and I hoped the heaviness in my chest had eased.
I was wrong.
I padded into the kitchen and brewed a fresh pot of tea, letting the familiar scent of the leaves fill the room. The small ritual helped steady my nerves. I pulled out a tin of cookies from the cupboard and set a few on a plate, thinking I might nibble on them while the kettle finished heating.
The kettle whistled softly, and I removed it from the stove.
Just then, I heard the front door open and close.
“I didn’t think you guys would be home so early, Geeta,” I called out automatically as I poured the hot water into my teapot.
I turned around.
And I stilled.
It was Cole.
My mouth went dry instantly.I wasn’t hungry or thirsty anymore.My heart began pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears.
“Hi!” he said, moving toward me.
“Um… hi,” I said, drawing back instinctively.
A cold sensation spread through my arms and chest. I was not ready for this. I knew we would have to talk about what happened the night before, but not like this.
Not when I had barely processed it myself.
This conversation needed to happen on my terms, when I felt prepared.His sudden appearance in my kitchen made me fold my arms tightly across my chest.
“Why did you leave?” he asked. His voice was calm, but there was tension beneath it. “Is everything okay?”
I nodded quickly, though the movement felt stiff.“Cole, I…” I started.
He stepped closer.
“I’m sorry,” I fumbled, unsure of what words I was even trying to say. “Would… would you… um, like some breakfast or some tea or?—”
He came closer again, towering over me.
His presence filled the kitchen space, and suddenly it felt difficult to breathe. I kept my eyes lowered, focusing on the pale tiles beneath my feet.I could not look at him.
“I had a great time last night,” he said quietly. “I wanted to tell you before?—”
