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Luckily, he’s not in the room to see my hands shake and the way I dramatically drop into my desk chair.
“Are you sick?”
A brief pause. “No.”
“Did your work schedule change?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t you at writers group?”
There’s silence on the other end of the line, but I know the call hasn’t dropped.
“You're not here because of me.” I can’t contain a groan born of pure guilt. “That’s ridiculous, Cole! This is a public library. Just because we’re not...” I can’t finish the statement. Partly because I don’t want to, but also because I’m not sure what we ever were. “You can still come here even if I’m here.”
Another hesitation, then, “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No, I can’t. In the beginning, I thought if you told me no, that I could take it. That I could still be around you.” His sigh is so heavy, I can almost imagine it brushing my ear through the phone. “If that was true, it’s not anymore. If I can’t have all of you, then I can’t be around you.”
“But…your group.”
“I’ll find another.”
There’s an easy fix to this. I could just tell him that I want to be together. That him hiding his past from me doesn’t matter. That I’m willing to forget everything and trust him.
No words come out.
“Get back to work, Summer.” Cole murmurs the command. He doesn’t growl like he’s angry at me.
Not that he has any right to be angry.I’mthe one who was deceived. But it’s so much easier to be pissy with someone who is being a jerk. Aren’t ex-cons supposed to be assholes?
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I mutter without heat.
He has the audacity to chuckle. “I love you.”
“Goodbye!” Pressing the End Call button doesn’t seem final enough, so I stuff my phone under a throw pillow and leave my office, locking the door behind me.
“Everything good?” Karen asks when I get back to the desk.
“Just fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Who’s the liar now?
Chapter Forty-Seven
COLE
“How’s Summer?”
When did my dad get so chatty?
Normally, when Malcolm Allemand fishes, he doesn’t want to say a single word. Just float and do nothing to alert the fish to the danger hidden within the intricate lure the man crafted.
But now he’s asking questions I don’t want to answer.
“Fine,” I mutter, assuming it’s the truth. I haven’t seen her since the day she found out about the parts of me I was hiding. Last I heard her voice was when she completely ignored my declaration of love. Maybe she’s not doing great, but my hope is she’s at least doing fine.
