Chapter 10
ten
HANNAH
“This place is heaven on earth,” Cole remarked, staring at the rugged coastline. The biting winds hurled white-capped waves at the rocks, yet the sky was a cloudless blue, the sun kissing the horizon. “I get why you’re here.”
We were having dinner at his hotel. The nicest one in Jupiter because Cole only stayed at the nicest hotels.
He’d spent his entire childhood poorer than me.
He’d known true poverty. And he’d worked himself to the bone to ensure he got the life he deserved.
He had the curator position at the museum and his own apartment.
A rich, older boyfriend—who he wasn’t with for the money but because he loved him.
All things I might’ve known if I’d kept in touch with him.
We hadn’t mentioned that elephant in the room over dinner; we’d strayed away from loaded subjects. We’d chatted about his life, a lot about Clara.
We’d skirted emotional land mines, like what a shitty friend I was, my ruined marriage … Beau.
“Yeah, it’s going to be hard to leave.” I sighed, looking out onto the shadowed waves.
Beau had given me the night off.
He’d hung around for tea and brownies, not saying much, eyeing Cole and I with a measured intensity. I’d been unable to concentrate on anything with him being so close, silently watching.
Cole had noticed it in between his conversations with Clara, whom he adored. I didn’t know when Cole, my bitchy best friend, started to tolerate and like children. He’d referred to them as “sticky emotional terrorists” the last time I spoke to him.
“Gavin wants kids,” he’d responded when I said as much earlier.
“So I have to learn to like the little, snotty fuckers.” He scrunched up his nose.
“I’ve been volunteering at toddler time at the museum,” he added.
“Once you get over the drool, the lack of personal space, the screaming, and the smell of dirty diapers, they can be passably tolerable.”
I’d grinned into my soda at this, happy, amused, and profoundly disappointed in myself over how much I’d missed of my friend’s life.
“Clara is easy to get along with,” he’d continued. “I would be way more on board with this kid thing if I knew I could get one exactly like her.”
I’d smiled at him, thinking as much. Except I didn’t want my child to be exactly like Clara; I wanted Clara to be mine forever.
I was already grieving her and my presence in her life as spring approached like a harbinger of doom.
Sure, I still had a whole winter with her, but that was both too far and too soon.
“So.” Cole drained his drink. “We’re going to talk about Beau.”
I gripped my soda. I’d known this was coming, but the mere mention of his name and the loaded expression on Cole’s face took my breath away. “Beau?” I questioned innocently. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He raised a brow knowingly. “Yeah, you writing a fucking novel about him at midnight is nothing? And him looking like he wanted to rip my hands off because I was touching you was nothing, huh? Him eye fucking you every chance he gets is nothing?”
““He was not eye fucking me,” I protested, nausea building in my stomach. “And him looking like he wanted to rip your hands off wasn’t personal, that’s Beau.”
“He wasn’t looking at you like that,” Cole countered. “He was looking like he wanted to rip your clothes off. And you—”
“And I’m already mixed up with one asshole, that’s enough for me,” I finished for him.
Cole’s eyes narrowed, and his expression transformed from teasing to menacing. “Waylon is still giving you trouble?”
I thought I was moving away from dangerous subjects, but it turned out any conversation about me and men was fraught with psychological booby traps.
“No more than he used to.” I waved my hand in dismissal.
I did not want Cole’s visit to be shadowed by Waylon. I did not want him to see me as the friend he constantly needed to help. To rescue.
The crease in Cole’s brow deepened, as much as it could, given the Botox in his face.
“He used to isolate you from your friends and family, demean you, drain your bank account, and suck the joy from your life.” His disdain for my estranged husband was hot and visceral.
I downed the rest of my soda. I’d pushed that period of my life into a dark corner. But with Cole shedding light on it again, images rushed into my head. Painful ones.
“My life has plenty of joy now,” I retorted weakly.
“Yeah, I see that,” he agreed. “Playing house with a remarkable little girl and a man doing an abysmal job of pretending he doesn’t like you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, getting emotional whiplash from volleying between Waylon and Beau. I didn’t know which I’d rather talk about.
“Does Beau know about Waylon?” Cole asked.
“No!” I hissed, the mere thought of Beau learning about my marital status making my skin itch. “And he’s not going to know. It’s none of his business.”
Cole shook his head as if I were dense. “You’re his business, so I’m thinking he’s going to find out sooner rather than later. And when he does, the alpha is going to come out.”
“You’re wrong,” I replied adamantly. “And if he did find out, he’d think I was an idiot more than anything,” I added in a small voice.
“What the fuck?” Cole snarled. “You are not talking about yourself like that.”
Sadness swam through me as I smiled at him. “It’s the truth. It’s why I was such a shitty friend to you. Why I don’t know about all the joy in your life, why I let the joy be sucked out of mine. I let Waylon isolate me.”
Cole opened his mouth then closed it. Taking in a deep breath, he examined me. “It is not that simple, Han,” Cole eventually said, his tone faint, tender.
I nodded, my throat almost closing with sorrow, regret. “It is. And I didn’t reach out to you when I left him because I was embarrassed. Because I didn’t want to see myself through your eyes.” Tears clouded my vision.
Cole reached across the table to grasp my hand.
“What I see is an amazing woman who escaped the reach of an asshole and who has the whole world in front of her.” He squeezed my hand.
“I see my best friend. You think you can claim authority on having bad taste in men?” He scoffed.
“I’ve done that plenty. Our taste in men does not define us.
However, Beau looks like he’s defined by two women.
One is five. The other is right in front of me. ”
I pulled my hand from Cole’s to wipe my eyes and shake my head. “No, Beau is not interested in me like that.”
Cole pursed his lips, his penetrating gaze telling me he didn’t believe me.
I didn’t believe myself.
I’d gotten home after Beau had gone to bed, but he’d left the light on for me. I told myself it was good that I didn’t have to have an awkward conversation with him.
But I’d stared at his closed bedroom door for much too long before I’d forced myself into my room. I’d expected to toss and turn all night, kept awake by the memories Cole’s presence had dredged up, the proverbial wool he’d pulled off my eyes when it came to Beau.
Thankfully, I’d been asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, exhaustion—both physical and emotional—winning against my anxious brain.
And Clara was already awake by the time I made it to the kitchen the next morning, babbling about her plans for New York and asking when Cole would arrive.
Beau was pleasant. He gave me coffee—again, exactly how I took it—and made me breakfast. But he did his level best to avoid looking and speaking to me directly.
I did the same, unsure of the way forward now that I had Cole’s eyes on the situation. He would not placate me. He was good with people, reading them. He had to be; growing up, that skill had meant life or death for him.
If he said he saw Beau watching me in a certain way, it was the truth. One that I could not handle right then. Not with denial, avoidance, and a touch of sexual tension clouding the morning.
The escape into the chilly day was welcome, feeling upbeat about being with my two favorite people in the world.
I watched Cole with Clara at the park and while we explored the library, genuinely soaking in the joy that was Clara.
They were fast friends by the time he had to leave, her promising to write him and me making false promises about our upcoming trip to New York.
I didn’t know how I was going to get out of that. Clara didn’t forget promises made, and thus far, I hadn’t broken one to her. As far as I knew, neither had Beau.
Why he’d so resolutely stated that I would be in New York was anyone’s guess. Presumably because he wanted to please his daughter. That had to be it. He would continually sacrifice to make his daughter happy.
The prospect of making memories like that with Clara, watching her marvel at New York City, was so enticing. As was seeing more of Cole and meeting his boyfriend. But that meant enclosed spaces with Beau, a new environment.
All ingredients for trouble. I had enough of that on my heels as it was.
“Please answer my calls,” Cole urged when I released him from our tight hug in Beau’s driveway.
Clara had said her goodbyes after exchanging numbers with Cole, even though she didn’t have a phone. Beau dutifully let her program Cole’s number into his phone.
I totally hated that they had each other’s numbers; it felt like a recipe for disaster, but I couldn’t exactly do much about it.
“I will answer your calls.” I made the promise to my best friend, one I wasn’t going to break.
I couldn’t. Now that he was back in my life, I couldn’t deny the yawning hole he’d left inside of me.
He made me feel whole, loved, and important.
How I’d even coped without speaking to him every day was a mystery. It was no longer an option.
Cole brushed the hair from my face. “And please stop punishing yourself. Stop saying bad things about yourself. Speak to yourself how you’d speak to Clara.” He spoke with a firm tone, but his eyes were soft, loving.
I pursed my lips, nodding, not wanting to lie out loud.