Page 95 of Bad & Bossy

I took a step toward his office before thinking better of it.

I had to fight to pull myself away, I knew I couldn’t bend to it. A part of me loved him, I knew that much. I’d come to terms with it. But I couldn’t handle all of it right now, not when I had someone who meant more to me than myself or Cole to watch after.

I just wished it didn’t hurt so much.

I’d heard the rumors, how he’d randomly been in and out of work, that he’d been found passed out in his office, heard he’d been seen drinking at the bars. There were only so many things that could be exaggerations or lies, and if any of it was true, any of it, I wanted to cry for him. I wanted to hold him and tell him he’d be okay, wanted to take him to a meeting or help him find a new facility.

But I couldn’t.

————

I didn’t realize how much seeing Cole would throw me off for the rest of my shift.

My mind spiraled throughout my tours but I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop thinking about whether I needed to quit, if I needed to go back to school for a degree, if I should stop trusting my gut and run upstairs to him. My future was more uncertain than ever, and most of it was my own damn fault. I’d built up an idea of it that wasn’t stable for the last four months I’d been with him.

On top of that, I was operating on a level of shock and stress I’d never been under before. I had convinced myself that Cole would show up, demanding answers or visitation with his son since he’d likely figured it all out. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t called, he hadn’t texted, he hadn’t shown up at my door in a drunken fit. I wasn’t sure how I should take any of it. Was he done too? Had he decided that I was right? Or could he just not be bothered to put in an ounce of effort?

I wanted to tell him about Bobby, he deserved that much. I’d mentioned it to Gray, but Gray said Cole had basically shut him out too, and I didn’t know where to go from there short of showing up at his house. I couldn’t imagine he’d entertain the idea of it, considering how much I’d heard of the infamous Bobby who was helping him through his journey of recovery.

I scoffed. If he only knew what a shit Bobby truly was.

No. It was best we stayed away from each other, continued to keep the distance between us and go on with our lives. If he wanted to see Drew when he was older… ugh. I just didn’t know.

I slipped into the vest room and hung mine on the wall. I didn’t have a tour first thing tomorrow morning so no need to show up in it. I grabbed my bag and double-checked I had a charger with me this time before clocking out on the computer, relief already beginning to flood me knowing I’d be out of the building in minutes, away from the possibility of running into him.

But things never seem to go the way I want them to.

“Dana?”

I swallowed, my spine going rigid as I turned from the computer. Cole stood in the doorway, his hair too long, his face too scruffy. The bags under his eyes were massive, his face gaunt. His shirt buttons were off, causing the fabric to stretch and bunch in various places.

He’d somehow managed the tie.

He shut the door behind him, enclosing us in the small room alone. I could smell him across the short distance, could smell the liquor emanating from every pore.

“Please don’t do this,” I breathed, taking a step back and nearly knocking the monitor from the desk as I ran into it.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, and fuck, the words felt so hollow it made my chest ache. His cheeks were reddened, his eyes bloodshot. I hated this. I hated it so much I wanted to fucking disappear into the floor.

“I can’t do this with you.” I held my bag to my chest, hoping somehow it would make me feel better with something between us. Maybe it would stop me from doing what I wanted, which was to make him feel better. I wanted to hold him.

His lips pursed together, the shine in his eyes intensifying before he steeled his jaw. Please don’t cry. “I want to see my son.”

Fuck.

The backs of my eyes burned. There wasn’t any use in pretending anymore. Lottie had let the cat out of the bag, and I couldn’t lie to him, couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t the right way for it to come out. The right way would have been months ago, and I should have done it then. But wishing for a time machine wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“No,” I croaked. Every piece of my heart fucking shattered as I watched him crumple, the shards falling in my chest and cementing their sharp sides in my stomach, churning it and making me want to vomit. “Not like this, Cole.”

His lower lip quivered in the same way Drew’s did, his shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, covering his mouth and taking a step back toward the door. I could hear the tremble in his voice. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, baby. I don’t understand how I got here, how any of this fucking happened.” He sucked in air, his chest heaving, hyperventilation threatening to kick in. “It’s all blowing up in my face.”

I bit down on my lip, fighting back the tears. There was a part of me that just wanted to pull him in, lock the door, and hide with him for however long he needed. That same part of me told me to tell him about Bobby, and she was winning. “Bobby came by the other day,” I breathed, taking a step toward him, flinching at the scent of whiskey on his breath. Gently, slowly, I rested a hand on his cheek. “Look, I… I know this won’t be easy to hear, but he said a lot of shit and I don’t want you to freak out.”

Wide green eyes met mine, a hint of moisture in the inner corners.

“I know he drove you to it,” I said, fingering a lock of dark blonde hair out of his face, that same face I saw reflected in Drew more and more each day. “He pushed you and pushed you, then he celebrated when you caved. This is on him.”

He blinked, his jaw working, and we stood in silence for far too long before he pulled away from my touch.