Page 115 of Coldhearted King

“It was my pleasure, Cole. And thank you for your thoughtful gifts. I hope you understand why I can’t accept them.”

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “I do now.” He inclines his head to her. “I’ll see you next time.”

“Next time?” I question, but Mom merely smiles benignly as Cole moves toward me.

“We need to talk outside,” I say.

He follows me onto the porch, and I close the front door behind us before whirling on him. “I can’t believe you thought you could buy your way back into my life. And using my mother to do it. You should know I don’t want your money, Cole. Stop throwing it around and thinking it’s going to fix things.”

“I’m not throwing it around,” he says, his voice pitched low. “I’m not trying to buy your heart back. It’s worth far more than I have.”

A lick of warmth spreads through me. Why does he keep saying such sweet things? “Then why did you think turning up here with a new car and a plot of land would win you any favors?”

His eyes darken. “Because it’s the only thing I can offer you—the only thing I can give you that you need.”

I stare at him, then shake my head, sadness welling up in my chest. “No. It’s not, Cole. I don’t need your money or what it can buy me. A relationship isn’t supposed to be transactional that way. It’s about being with someone because you can’t imagine not being with them. It’s about sharing your heart and soul with someone, knowing they see you for who you really are—that they understand you in a way no one else can.”

His jaw is tight as he watches me. “Okay,” he says.

That wasn’t what I was expecting. “Okay?”

He nods, steps closer, and reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my face. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Next time?” I say weakly. “I thought you’d have to go back to New York soon.”

“I don’t need New York. I need you.”

He says it so simply that my heart almost bursts free from the prison I’ve put it in, but I manage to hold firm. I want to believe. I want it so much I’m practically vibrating with the need to throw myself into his arms. But words are meaningless, and I don’t know if I can trust his.

He reads my indecision and takes a step back. “The truck will be here to pick up the car soon.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

His lips tip up at the corners a little. “I’m not giving up, Delilah.” It’s all he says before he turns and walks down the path toward the driver and car waiting for him. I don’t stay to watch him get in and drive away, too scared I’ll suddenly cave and run after him.

I go back into the house and find Mom in the kitchen, washing up the teacups. I slump against the counter and bury my face in my hands, tears threatening to spill. “What am I going to do, Mom? He thinks using his money is the way to prove he cares, but that just shows he doesn’t know me at all.” I pause, my voice trembling. “If he doesn’t understand something so fundamental about me, how can he possibly feel the way he says he does?”

Mom dries her hands on a dishcloth, then rubs her hand up and down my back. “I think you might need to look at it differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was using his money, that’s true, and it’s not how he should try to win you back. But you have to remember, that’s all he knows. It’s how he’s lived his life, and it’s not always easy to change that way of thinking. And...” Mom pauses for a moment, her expression turning soft. “He knows you, Delilah. It might not look that way on the face of it, but he knows you.”

I should be surprised that Mom’s defending Cole, but somehow, I’m not. “What do you mean?”

She strokes my hand. “What do you care about?”

I shake my head, bewildered.

“For better or worse, you’ve driven yourself so hard all your life. Why is that?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Because I want to give you a better life.” I admit it, saying the words to her for the first time. “The life stolen from you when you got pregnant with me. I want you to be happy and have nice things—” I suck in a sharp breath.

Mom nods, her love for me shining in her eyes as she smooths a strand of hair away from my wet cheek. “If he was just throwing his money around, he would have used it to buy you jewelry or fancy clothes you don’t want. He would have boughtyoua car. He wasn’t using his money to impress you. He was using it to give you something you care deeply about.”

Tears blur my vision at the truth of what she’s saying.

“I think you should give him a chance, Delilah. If I didn’t believe he was truly sorry and that he cares about you, I’d never say it. But he does care. A lot. He just hasn’t quite figured out the best way to show you yet.”

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