Page 47 of Broken Hearts

“You’re both at Silverbrook. Do you run into each other often?” my father asks with suspicion in his voice.

“It’s a huge campus,” I reply, deflating.

Susan’s eyes dart between us, her perceptive gaze lingering a moment too long, reading an unspoken story in the air.

“Mark, can you help me get the desserts and plates from the garage?”

I was grateful for her perceptiveness.

My father grunts and follows her out.

Going to the fridge, I get a can of Coke out, extending it to Cole. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

As he steps closer, I’m acutely aware of every move he makes. The subtle scent of his cologne, a reminder of days long past, fills my senses. My breath hitches, and I have to remind myself to breathe normally. It’s unsettling how my body responds to him, how a simple glance or the brush of his fingers as he takes the can of Coke can send a ripple of sensation through me.

“I’m not here to harass you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And you say that while coming to my house?”

He winces. “I didn’t come here to make things harder for you, Angel. I just… I needed to see you. I’m here to listen. Whatever you need from me, I’m ready to hear it.”

I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves. This is the moment I’ve been both dreading and needing. “Cole, I… I need space,” I plead. “It’s hard for me to be around you and not feel the pain of everything that’s happened. I don’t hate you; I don’t think I ever could, but the pain… it’s still there, raw and overwhelming.”

He nods, his expression a mix of understanding and hurt. “I get it,” he says quietly. “It’s hard to accept, though, to be the representation of your pain.”

There’s an awkward silence that settles between us, heavy with unsaid words and unhealed wounds. I break the silence, trying to ease the tension. “I need to process everything. I was so convinced you plotted it all.”

He gives me a small, sad smile. “I’m trying, Eva. But knowing you’re in pain because of me… it’s hard. I just want you to be happy, to heal.”

The sincerity in his voice tugs at my heart. “I’m working on it. Healing, I mean. It’s a process, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. And I’m sorry. For everything.” His voice is thick with regret. “Is there a chance for us to start fresh?”

I open my mouth, but a yes or no answer is not fitting.

There’s so much more I want to say, so much more to understand, but now isn’t the time. We’re interrupted by the sound of my father and Susan returning from the garage, their arms laden with desserts and plates.

“We need to get moving,” Susan says, putting the dessert in the main fridge.

“What time is Max coming?” my father asks, and I see Cole’s jaw tense as he takes a sip of his Coke. He may be happy to give me space, but the jealous, possessive streak is still there, and I may be broken inside because knowing he wants me so obsessively does warm a part of me.

Damn, I will get my feminist card revoked for sure.

He puts his now empty can of Coke on the counter and rubs at his neck. “Well, I better get going then. I’m only in your way.”

Is his reluctance only so obvious to me, or could the others see it too?

Susan nods. “Eva, can you walk Cole out? It would be nice to catch up with him. As for you, Mark, I really need help to reach the serving plates.”

Smiling as the weight on my chest eases, I decide I definitely want Susan to be in our lives.

We walk side by side to the door, and I half expect him to leave without a word, and it feels wrong somehow.

“It’s better if I leave now,” he whispers, his voice so faint it almost gets lost in the space between us. He hesitates, his hand on the doorknob, his back to me. “We wouldn’t want Max to see me.”

I should have nodded and let this one slide, but before I can think better of it, I admit the truth. “Max is my friend, nothing more. We’re close, and you know why. I haven’t been with anyone else, just you,” I finish rather lamely, and the way his eyes darken, I know I made a mistake, igniting even more of his caveman tendencies.

“Only me?” His voice is a low rumble, a sound that resonates deep within me, awakening memories I’ve tried to bury. He takes a step toward me, his promise seemingly forgotten. Standing far too close to leave any doubt about our former involvement.

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