27. Confessions
Chapter 27
Confessions
Cole
I walk off into the cellar, my body slumping against the door the moment it’s closed. A huge gust of air whooshes out of my lungs, the rhythmic thumping of my heart sending waves through me.
I told her. I finally told her everything. The relief that washed over me as I saw her eyes soften was more intense than anything I could’ve imagined. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner. Maybe the last eight years could’ve been completely different for both of us.
Now that we’ve taken the first step, maybe there’s hope for us yet. With a renewed burst of energy, I push myself off the wall, grabbing the finest bottle of wine I can find.
“This is another bottle I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” I say as I stroll casually to where she’s curled up on the couch. She lifts her head up to look at me, and once again I’m stopped dead in my tracks. How is she so beautiful?
“I think after all my confessions tonight, that counts as a special occasion.” I smile, watching her own eyes light up with a smile of her own. I set the bottle down, picking up the blanket folded on the side of the couch. Then I gently spread it over her, tucking in the edges to keep her warm.
“There you go. Can’t have you catching a cold and getting sick on me,” I grin, finally plopping down on the couch beside her.
“Thank you,” she whispers, rosy cheeks beaming at me.
I find myself thinking that I’d do anything to see her smile at me like that.
“Enough about me though. What about you? You’ve always struck me as the type of woman who was in love with the idea of love. There’s no way that someone who loves to create magical weddings and anniversary events as much as you couldn’t be,” I say, taking a sip of wine.
“You’re right,” she says, taking a sip of hers. “I do love the idea of love. My parents taught me that. They’ve been happily married for over forty years. But, I was also burned by it,” she smiles sadly. “Like you, I was engaged before, but he was a cheating piece of shit too, so…yeah,” she trails off awkwardly.
“I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” I say, but she just chuckles, waving me off.
“Oh, don’t be. It happened...right before yours actually,” she shrugs.
“So why’d you give up? You sound like the type of woman who would want a family. A husband, beautiful little kids running around the house.” She winces, eyes suddenly trained on wiping an invisible speck off her wrist.
“For a man who’s barely had a conversation with me in eight years, you sure seem to think you know me,” she responds frostily. I flinch, taken aback by her sharp response. Did I say something wrong?
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to—”
“No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It’s just…it’s a touchy subject for me,” she mutters, her eyes unable to meet mine.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, we should. It’s only fair. You were honest with me. I should do the same.” She swallows, averting her gaze. Her fidgety hands clasp tightly around her glass. I feel a sense of dread curling in my chest. Somehow, I know that whatever it is will have an impact on me too. “You’re right. I’ve always wanted a family. A husband, lots of kids. But…” Lila pauses, her voice breaking as she takes a shaky breath.
Her hands tremble slightly, and I can see the struggle written all over her face.
“Recently, I found out I can’t have children. I can’t…” Her voice falters, and she swallows hard, blinking rapidly. “I can’t carry my own kids because of…health complications.”
She finishes in a rush, her words shaky and uneven, and my chest tightens like a vice.
Shit .
Her eyes glaze over, a sheen of unshed tears making them shimmer in the dim light. She doesn’t look at me, her gaze fixed firmly on her lap, as though meeting my eyes might make her break.
“Lila,” I say softly, leaning forward. “I’m so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. I reach out, taking her small, trembling hands in mine, wanting to give her something—anything—that might ease the weight of her pain.
She squeezes my hand gently. “Me too,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“You know what? I’ve cried enough,” she says suddenly, her voice trembling but steady. “I’ve spent way too many nights feeling sorry for myself. I don’t think I’ll ever fully get over it, but…I have accepted it.” She lifts her eyes to mine, and they shine with unshed tears. “If I can’t have kids of my own, then maybe that’s my sign to love harder on the people already in my life. To pour all of that love into them.”
Her smile is small, shaky, but radiant, and it knocks the air right out of my lungs.
I stare at her, unable to look away, and before I realize I’m speaking, the words tumble out. “You’re incredible.”
“Huh?” she murmurs, her eyes snapping back to mine.
“You’re incredible, Lila. The way you’re handling this.” I shake my head, struggling to find the words. “Most people would let something like this break them, but not you. And that…” I pause, swallowing. “That says more about you than anything else ever could.”
Her lips part slightly, as if she wants to respond, but no words come out. Her eyes are wide, shimmering with unshed tears, and for a moment, the air between us feels charged with something I can’t quite name.
“Thank you, Cole,” she whispers, her voice constricted.
I shake my head, my grip on her hands tightening just slightly. “No. Don’t thank me. I mean it. You’re…stronger than you know, Lila.”
Her lips quirk into a small smile, and for a second, I forget the heaviness of the moment, lost in the warmth of her expression.
The room is quiet, the tension easing but the intimacy between us lingering.
“I think I left my phone in the cellar; I’ll be right back,” I say. I’m sure she could use a few minutes to pull herself together.
I release her hands gently, letting her have a moment to herself, but I can’t take my eyes off her as she shifts slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.