Cole’s embrace was different.
It didn’t carry the edges of my past.
It didn’t carry the weight of betrayal or heartbreak.
It simply felt… solid.
Safe.
For the first time that entire day, my breathing finally began to slow.
With no questions asked and no answers given, and neither of us saying a single word yet again, I realized I had come home.
I had come home to Cole.
32
COLE
On Saturday night at the beginning of June, I waited for Jiya to arrive at my house. I had wanted to pick her up for our “date”, but she had insisted on driving herself.
“It doesn’t make sense for you to come here and pick me up and drop me back,” she had said over the phone earlier that week. “I’ll bring the car over to your place.”
I had tried to argue at first, mostly because the idea of picking her up had felt like part of the evening. I had imagined ringing her doorbell, seeing her open the door, and walking her to the car like a proper gentleman. Instead, I found myself pacing in my living room, glancing at the clock every few minutes like a nervous teenager.
Disheartened that I wouldn’t be picking her up as planned, I changed plans at the last minute. I had originally thought of bringing them when I picked her up, but since she was driving here instead, I placed them carefully in a tall glass vase on the small table near the entrance. The sweet scent of the flowers filled the room.
I decided to take her out for dinner and dancing.
Even thinking the worddatestill made my chest tighten with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy.
I had finally mustered up the courage to ask her about going out after I had broken up with Stephanie, who had taken the news rather well, much to my surprise. That conversation had gone smoothly, but that had not made the next step any easier.
Because asking Jiya out had felt different.
Much more important.
Two weeks earlier, I had stopped by Jiya’s house to talk to her about it. I had found her sitting slumped on the small bench beside her front door. Her shoulders had been hunched, and my heart had tightened immediately. She hadn’t said anything that night, but the next day, while we were watching the cotton-candy sunset at the docks, she finally opened up and told me about Patty.
I hated seeing her so sad.
I hated that she had to deal with awful incidents back-to-back, as if life kept testing her strength over and over again. All I had wanted in that moment was to protect her from it somehow, even though I knew that was not something anyone could truly do.
Tonight, however, I wanted her to forget about all of that.
Even if it was only for a few hours.
My doorbell rang at exactly 7 p.m.
My heart jumped.
I walked to the door and opened it.
And then I saw her and stood there, breathless.
Jiya looked absolutely stunning.
She wore a royal purple dress that hugged her curves in a way that made my brain momentarily forget how to function. I was trying very hard not to stare too obviously, and then I realized I had not said a single word for several seconds.
