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I placed another sheet of cookies in the oven and reached for my wine. “Can I ask you a direct question?” Alan nodded, crossing his arms defensively. “You mentioned that you came here to ask Cole for a second chance, right?”
“Yes, but obviously, now… well, that seems ridiculous at the moment,” he admitted.
“Here’s a tough question,” I began. “To be fair to you, I’m going to apologize ahead of time for what I’m about to ask you.”
“Yikes,” he said, grimacing.
“Do you desire a second chance because of how guilty you feel about leaving him for someone else? Perhaps you feel you could make up for your actions so that you’d feel better?”
Alan’s eyes narrowed as he studied me and I thought I may have overstepped with my observation. However, I felt the question was a fair one. Alan had guilt over his actions, particularly because the man he left Cole for didn’t work out. The discovery of how it felt being hurt had come home to roost, in my opinion.
“How old are you?” he asked, chuckling slightly before his eyes filled.
“Old enough to be kinder, I suppose,” I replied. “But what do you think Cole truly deserves after three years of suffering and finally coming out the other end? And take me out of the equation,” I added.
Alan sat on a barstool and rested his chin on his hands. The emotions crossing his face were sad to witness. He knew what I meant, and it was obvious he hadn’t expected the question. Or had he?
“And take you out of it?” he asked. I nodded. He drew invisible circles on the countertop as he thought about my question. “Funny thing is, my therapist asked me the same question. She told me she thought I was trying to save face, running back for security, trying to regain power in a failed love.”
“And are you?”
“I’m going to have to add you back into the equation,” he confessed. “Because hearing about you and Cole’s happiness every time I met up with so-called friends didn’t help my decision-making. I wanted what I’d had and couldn’t stand that he’d found it with someone else. Pretty gross, right?”
“More like honest,” I responded. “Human nature, actually.”
“The entire flight down here, I knew what I was doing was wrong,” he admitted. “And now that I’ve met you, Chad… well… I can see that I don’t deserve a second chance.”
I came to his side and opened my arms for him. He hesitated at first, but I stayed there, encouraging him to accept my caring. After double-checking my face for intent, he fell into my arms and began weeping uncontrollably. I remained silent as he let out his emotions.
I separated myself from him and gazed into his eyes. “How about we figure out how you can get your second chance as Cole’s friend?”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“Love is powerful, in my opinion. Sometimes we need to redefine our roles where love is concerned, but it’s always a good thing.”
Alan gawked at me for a moment after my observation. “God! You remind me of someone. Just now. The words. The way you speak. I swear, it’s uncanny.”
“I hope the person was someone you liked,” I replied. “Because I think you and me are going to be good friends.”
His eyes narrowed, a sparkle of recognition escaping them. “No wonder Cole loves you, Chad. You’re so similar to Jack without being his best friend.”
“Tell me about Jack,” I asked, curious for another impression of a man I’d never met personally.
Alan smirked like he’d discovered something important and looked past me, toward the ocean. I suspected he may be recalling Jack.
“Truthfully, Jack was unlike any person I’ve ever met. Until now.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE: Cole
“What are you doing here, Alan?” I asked, quickly glancing from Alan to Chad. I instinctively moved Chad to my side, placing my hand on his lower back. “I didn’t see a car in the driveway. How’d you get here?” I asked. “Better yet, how’d you find me?”
Walking into my home after three days of business in New York, I hadn’t expected to find who I found standing there. Unexpectedly, every single painful memory I thought I’d recovered from came rushing back like the event was yesterday. Marla had been correct about Alan. He was bolder than I had given him credit for.
“Closed real estate deals are public information,” Alan said. “And please don’t blame Marla. In her defense, she wouldn’t give me your address.”
“I think you need to leave now,” I spoke, pulling Chad closer.
“I’ve asked Alan to stay with us,” Chad interrupted, soothing me by running his hand up and down my arm. “He declined other offers to come here to speak with you, and I don’t want him to be alone over Christmas.”
