Page 56 of Broken Hearts

“Yes, you are. But it’s okay.” His breath is warm against my skin. “I’m patient and persistent. I’ll be here when you’re ready.” He tightens his hold on me. “You’re mine,” he says, and it’s a declaration that should scare me more than it does.

I try to laugh it off. “Someone’s confident.”

He pulls back to look at me, his eyes serious. “It’s not about confidence. Fate gave you to me twice. I learn fast.” Then he kisses me, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks of promises and unspoken dreams.

“I’ll go get breakfast,” he murmurs against my lips. “I know you’ll be gone before I come back. So I’ll soak in this moment a minute more.” There’s a wistfulness in his voice, a resignation to the inevitable.

His words hang heavy in the air as he gets out of bed and jumps into a pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt that are resting on a chair in a corner. “Because now that I’m out of this bed, I don’t know how long it will be before you allow me in again.”

Watching him walk away, a complex mix of emotions swirls inside me. Fear, longing, and a deep, undeniable connection.

The moment the door clicks shut behind Cole, I spring into action. It’s like an instinctive response made of guilt and self-preservation. I rush to the bathroom, my movements hurried and a little clumsy. After using the toilet, I scramble to gather my clothes, each piece feeling like a tangible reminder of my pending “walk of shame.”

Slipping out of the room, my heart pounds in a frantic rhythm. The hallway is mercifully empty as I take the stairs to the floor above.

Once I reach my room, I don’t bother to check if Nessa is back. I need to wash away the remnants of Cole from my skin to try and cleanse the overwhelming sensations and emotions that cling to me.

The shower is scalding, steam fogging up the mirror and enveloping me in a cloud of heat. I stand under the spray, letting the water cascade over me, trying to wash away the traces of last night. As the water runs down my skin, it’s not just him I’m trying to scrub away—it’s the confusion, the fear, the undeniable truth of my feelings for him.

I shampoo my hair twice, lathering my body repeatedly, but no amount of soap and water can cleanse the memories, the feelings that are rooted deep inside. The way he looked at me, the sound of his voice, the gentle yet desperate way he touched me—they’re imprinted in my mind, refusing to be washed away.

In that steam-filled bathroom, I know I can’t keep running forever. Sooner or later, I’ll have to face what I feel for Cole, confront the truth of what lies between us. I need to be all in or find the strength to break it off completely because I know that by playing this back-and-forth, I’ll end up hurting us both.

For now, I wrap the towel tighter around myself, trying to hold on to the remnants of my resolve, my independence, and my attempt to keep my heart guarded.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I find Nessa in the room, a knowing grin playing on her lips. “How was your night?” she asks, her tone teasing.

I counter, trying to keep my voice casual, “How was yours?”

Her smile widens, a sparkle in her eyes. “Actually, I came back earlier, and you weren’t here. I was worried, but then Liam sent me a photo of your shoes and bag in the room he’s sharing with Cole. I figured you were okay.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of Liam knowing where I was. “Cole and I—” I start, but the words get stuck in my throat.

Nessa laughs. A light, carefree sound. “Oh, I know what you two did. No need to explain.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s complicated,” I say, my voice a mix of resignation and confusion.

Nessa sits beside me, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face—a gesture of sisterly comfort. Her eyes, usually so full of playfulness, hold a gentle understanding as she studies my face. “Isn’t it always with men?” she asks, her tone hinting at shared experiences of heartache and love. “But hey, you’re both adults. As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

Glancing back at her, I’m grateful for her understanding and support. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit. “One moment, I’m determined to keep my distance, and the next, I’m… with him. It’s like I lose all sense of control.”

She squeezes my hand. “It’s okay to be confused. Just don’t be too hard on yourself. Love, or whatever it is you’re feeling, can be messy. But it’s also the thing that makes life worth living.”

Her words are a balm to my confused heart. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I need to allow myself to feel, to experience whatever this is with Cole, without overthinking every step.

“You know,” she starts, her voice lighter but with an undertone of seriousness, “life’s too short to have regrets. You should grab happiness wherever you can find it.”

I nod, absorbing her words, but I can’t help noticing the slight waver in her voice. “What about you? Are you… grabbing your happiness?” I ask tentatively, curious about the guarded look that momentarily flickered in her eyes.

For a brief second, her smile falters, and she looks away. “Oh, you know me,” she says with a laugh that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m all for living in the moment. But sometimes, the moment catches you off guard.”

Her words hang in the air, loaded with meanings. I want to press further, to understand the hidden depths of her statement, but I hesitate. Nessa has always been the strong, unflappable one, and seeing this crack in her armor is both surprising and concerning.

“Is everything okay with… you know, the moment you’re in now?” I venture cautiously, aware that I’m treading on potentially sensitive ground.

Nessa promptly recovers her composure, the mask of nonchalance firmly back in place. “Oh, absolutely,” she replies, a bit too fast. “Just enjoying the ride, you know? Life’s a game, and I’m playing it.”

But the way she avoids my gaze tells a different story. It’s clear that there’s more going on beneath her carefree exterior. Whatever is happening in her life, especially concerning “the moment” she’s caught up in, it’s affecting her more than she’s letting on.

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