Page 77 of Broken Hearts

“Yes, yet,” I affirm, allowing myself to entertain the possibility of what that “yet” might mean. It’s a small concession, an acknowledgment of the potential future we might build together. The word hangs between us, laden with unspoken promises and the weight of a decision not yet fully made.

As we walk out of the clinic, Cole lifts my hand, his lips brushing lovingly against the back of it. The simple gesture is filled with a depth of affection that resonates within me, warming my heart.

“I think it’s time you introduce me to your father,” he suggests as we step outside into the bright light of day.

I can’t help but roll my eyes playfully. “My father knows you. He was your coach for three years.”

He chuckles. A light-hearted sound that eases the tension from the clinic visit. “He knows Cole Westbrook, the billionaire player, not Cole Westbrook, his son-in-law.” There’s a playful glint in his eyes, but underneath it, I sense a serious undertone.

I sigh, knowing he’s right. My father knows him in one context, but this? This is entirely different. “Okay, fine. Cole Westbrook, the boyfriend. What do you say?”

The corners of his lips turn up in a satisfied smile. “I say that sounds perfect.”

“Let’s go this weekend,” I say as we get in the car. “I want to do that before the surgery. I don’t want him to have to go through all the rehab and anguish again.” I grimace. “I know you think you’re ready, but it’s not a pretty thing to witness.”

I see the pain in his eyes as he swallows hard. “I should have been there the first time around, but I sure as hell won’t leave your side this time. It may not be a pretty process, but it’s part of you, and everything that pertains to you is beautiful.”

I want to do things progressively with Dad. He went through enough in his life with losing Mom and then my accident. I want to introduce Cole in this new role, but also, there’s a part of me that isn’t ready to share the full weight of our recent decisions and the impending surgery. I want him to meet Cole, the man I’m learning to see in a new light, without the shadows of fear and uncertainty that currently hang over us.

As we drive back, my mind is abuzz with thoughts of how the weekend will unfold. It’s a step I’m both nervous and excited to take.

I glance at him, his profile set in concentration as he navigates the traffic. There’s a determination in his posture, a readiness to embrace whatever lies ahead. It’s this strength, this unwavering resolve, that gives me the courage to face my own uncertainties.

“Can we stop at the community center? I need to tell them I’ll be away for a while.”

“You really like it there, don’t you?” Cole knows me so well. He can read me like an open book.

“I never thought I would, but yes. I love working with these kids. It’s so… rewarding.”

Cole nods, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “Then let’s stop there. You should do what makes you happy.”

You make me happy, I think but don’t say it, not yet.

As we pull up to the community center, I feel a wave of affection for the place. It’s become a sanctuary for me, a place where I can give back and connect with these incredible kids. Each one of them has a story. A struggle. And being part of their journey, even if for a brief period, has been more fulfilling than I ever imagined.

Stepping out of the car, I take a deep breath. This is part of the life I’m building, a life that now unexpectedly includes Cole. I want him to see this part of me, the part that finds joy in the small moments, in helping others find their way.

As we walk into the center, the sound of children’s laughter fills the air, bringing an instant smile to my face. I introduce Cole to some of the staff and kids. He interacts with them with such ease and charm, showing a side of himself that’s gentle and genuine. Seeing him in this environment, away from the glitz and glamour of his usual world, adds another layer to my understanding of him.

After informing the staff of my upcoming absence, we head back to the car. His hand finds mine, his grip warm and reassuring. “They really like you here,” he observes, his voice filled with pride.

“Yeah, they’re amazing kids. They need someone to believe in them,” I reply, my heart full of joy.

“Maybe the Westbrook Foundation could make a donation to the center; what do you think?”

“That would be great. More children should have the opportunity to come here.”

Cole’s smile turns tender as we cross the street back to the car. “Our children will be lucky to have you.”

My stomach jolts, and I miss a step. It’s only his strong hold that is stopping me from falling down.

“Too soon?”

“You think?”

He laughs. “Relax, Angel. I don’t want our babies now. We’re far too young for that, and we need to have a lot of fun together before. I’m just saying when the day comes, they’ll be lucky to have you.”

I shake my head, trying to calm my racing heart. I’ve fantasized about such a future before.

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