Page 85 of I Wish I Would've Warned You

Her expression flickers. For a second, just one, she looks like she’s trying to process what I said. Trying to spin it into something forgivable. But I won’t let her.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demands.

“It’s not a metaphor.” My voice is quiet. Final. “It’s pretty fucking direct. You and I do not have a relationship anymore. We’re done.”

37

COLE

Manhattan, New York

Ishouldn't have come here.

I knew the moment I saw my dad on the news—sweaty, slurring, spinning another version of the truth to a crowd of clueless fans—that this would end badly. But part of me still showed up. Not to fix things. Not to forgive.

Just to keep the whole empire from going up in flames.

His Manhattan penthouse looks smaller than I remember. More hollow. The kind of place that used to feel untouchable and now feels like a museum no one wants to visit.

He’s already drunk when I walk in.

“If you came up here to apologize,” he mutters, not looking at me, “you can fucking save it.” He sips from a crystal glass, the amber whiskey clinging to the rim. “I told you I’ll talk to you when I don’t have the urge to stomp my foot into your face.”

“I came to give you these.” I toss a manila envelope onto the table between us. My old arrest papers. “To save you from getting behind the wheel drunk again tonight.”

“Don’t act like you give a fuck about what’s best for me now, Cole.” He scoffs, bitter. “That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“Noted.” I walk to the liquor cabinet, open it, and shut it hard enough for the bottles to rattle. I twist the lock and pocket the key.

“Have a good night.”

I turn for the door—but a glass explodes against the wall, just inches from my head.

“Hate that I missed.” His laugh is low and mean. He settles back into his chair like it was nothing, lifting a decanter I hadn’t noticed and pouring another shot.

I don’t stop him this time.

If he wants to drink himself into oblivion, let him.

“I’m going to do you a favor,” I say. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just try to assault me and never bring it up again.”

“Step closer so I can succeed this time.” His eyes narrow. “We both know I hardly ever miss twice.”

“Okay.” I move into his lane. I shouldn’t. I know how this ends. But I go anyway.

“You ruined my career to get revenge for that night, didn’t you?” His voice is sharp now. “This was your grand finale.”

“You ruined your own fucking career.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not stuttering.” I glare. “You made mistake after mistake, and I’m not to blame for this one. I told you how I felt about Emily, and you decided it meant nothing.”

He laughs—harsh, slurred. “Emily? You’re still stuck onher?”

“I loved her. And I lost her. Because of you.”

“Oh,please?—”

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