Chapter 14 634 days before the breakup #2
Because if I really think about it, Cole never actually sat down to read a single page. He’d dozed off once while I was nervously reading him my query letter, and when I finished, he just mumbled something about how it sounded good. He never cracked the spine once the book was published. Not once.
Now, with the hindsight of distance, I can see it for what it was.
Cole didn’t dust off that story for me. The idea had been sitting inside me long before him.
It wasn’t his encouragement. It was the nostalgia of that Ferris wheel, the memory of my parents, the ache of wanting something real.
I’d told myself I needed his support, but the truth was I’d already given myself permission. I just couldn’t see it back then.
Back in the living room, Friendsgiving was still in full swing.
Drew’s voice was a few notches louder than usual, which always happened when he drank beyond tipsy. “I’m over this game. How about we take this party to a bar?”
“No way,” Savannah snapped before anyone else could react. “That’s not the tradition. We always end the night with games.”
“We could try something new. Karaoke could be fun,” I replied, unable to mask the edge in my voice as I sided with Drew.
“You’re kidding, right?” Savannah shot back. “We go out every weekend. We’re not abandoning Friendsgiving just to hit the same grimy bars downtown and sing ‘Party in the USA.’”
Grace chimed in, her tone annoyingly cheerful, “How about a game of Would You Rather?”
“Of course,” I muttered. The last thing I wanted was to sit around playing stupid drinking games with people who pretended to support me. To be there for me.
“What was that, Ainsley?” Savannah asked, her tone laced with fake sweetness.
“I said—” My voice trembled with the urge to unleash everything I was holding back, but Lucas cut me off before I could respond.
“I’ll start,” he announced, shooting me a look that told me he could sense me going DEFCON 1 Ainsley.
“Perfect!” Grace lit up. “Just a reminder on the rules: Minority vote drinks.”
My grip tightened around the stem of my glass as Lucas posed the first question. “Would you rather walk in on your parents having sex or have your parents walk in on you?”
“There’s obviously only one right answer—get walked in on,” Tucker said as the group erupted into unanimous agreement.
Drew’s turn came next. “Oh, I’ve got a good one. Would you rather date a daddy’s girl or a daddy issues girl?”
“Daddy’s girl,” the girls all said in unison except for Demi, who rubbed her chin, conflicted.
“Damn, that’s hard.”
“How much of a daddy’s girl are we talking?” Tucker asked, his brow furrowed.
“Hmmm.” Drew pondered for a moment before a smile spread across his face. “She still refers to her dad as Daddy.”
Cole shook his head. “Nope. I’m choosing daddy issues.”
“Same,” Tucker and Demi said.
The game continued, but I barely heard the questions.
My mind was drowning in the memory of their voices in the kitchen, the way they casually picked apart my relationship.
My book boyfriends. When the circle finally reached me, I was drunk enough and angry enough not to care about the consequences.
“Would you rather…” I started, pausing to think for a moment. “Would you rather have no friends or a group of friends that talk shit about you behind your back during Friendsgiving?”
The guys exchanged uneasy glances, clearly taken aback. Grace’s smile faltered, her eyes darting down to her cup for a second like she wished she could disappear. But Savannah didn’t flinch.
Instead she looked me dead in the eye and said, “Definitely friends that talk shit.”
Grace nodded nervously in agreement. “Me too.”
“Really?” I asked. “I’d choose differently.”
Savannah rolled her eyes, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.
“Oh please, everyone talks shit, Ains. You’re telling me you’d rather have no friends than a few who say stupid things behind your back once in a while?
Things that are true, no less, that maybe we keep to ourselves because we know you don’t want to hear them? ”
“It’s not like we said anything so bad,” Grace added. Her high-pitched voice and always-positive attitude were on my last nerve. “We were just…venting.”
“Feels like that really defeats the point of a friendship,” I said. “I’d rather someone communicate to me than about me.”
Savannah shrugged, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Looks like we can agree to disagree. Cole, you’re up.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to sit still, even though every part of me wanted to get up and walk out.
But no—they didn’t get to have that moment.
I’d handle this like an adult: either pretend nothing happened, or confront them like a normal, emotionally stable human being.
I’d decide later. Preferably when I wasn’t many glasses of wine deep.
* * *
My limbs felt heavy as Cole and I made our way upstairs to my bedroom. I shut the door behind us and leaned against it for a second, letting out a slow breath before crossing the room to my dresser. I didn’t say anything. Neither did he.
I pulled out my pajamas, my back still to him as I changed.
My fingers fumbled with the buttons, the adrenaline from earlier still coursing through my veins.
I could feel the words building in my throat.
I wanted to say something. I wanted him to ask if I was okay or offer some version of comfort without needing to be prompted, but he didn’t.
We climbed into bed. He turned toward me instinctively, draping his arm across my waist like he always did, like muscle memory. I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if it was even worth it. If I brought it up now, would it help or just make things worse?
“Something happened earlier,” I said softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
He didn’t respond.
“Grace and Sav were talking shit about us. About our relationship. They said I’m trying too hard to make it seem like something it’s not.”
Still nothing.
I shifted slightly. “Cole?”
A snore escaped from his mouth. He was already asleep.
I reached for my phone and tapped the screen, searching for a distraction, a doomscroll to put me to sleep. Instead, notifications lit up my screen.
Lucas: Everything okay? You seemed on edge during WYR
Lucas: I wanted to pull you aside before we left but didn’t get a chance
I blinked, surprised he noticed.
Ainsley: All good now
Ainsley: I’ll call you tomorrow to fill you in
Ainsley: Thanks for checking though
The typing bubbles appeared instantly.
Lucas: Love ya
I stared at the screen for a few seconds before locking it and setting it face down on the nightstand. Cole’s arm was still draped over me, and his snoring got louder.
* * *
By the time Thanksgiving morning rolled around, the sting from Friendsgiving still hadn’t faded. Grace and Savannah’s comments followed me around all week, replaying in the quiet moments like a song I couldn’t shut off.
Cole hadn’t stayed over the night before.
He’d gone out with the guys for Blackout Wednesday, swore it would only be one drink, and I was sure he’d meant it at the time.
But with them, one drink always turned into four, and four turned into closing down the bar.
He’d probably crashed at his place, which made sense, I told myself, since he and Tucker lived together.
Still, it was nearly eleven, and we were supposed to be on the road to my parents’ hours ago.
I called once. No answer. I called again. Straight to voicemail. By the third try, I finally heard the groggy scrape of his voice on the other end.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
“Hey?” I echoed, forcing my tone to be lighter than I felt. “Where are you? We were supposed to leave for my parents’ already.”
He paused and then said, “I’m at my place.”