Chapter 24
COLE
The walk back to my cabin feels longer than it should, even though it’s barely a few minutes from the construction site. Ella’s fingers are laced with mine the entire way—warm, stubborn, certain—everything I’m not sure I deserve.
She’s quiet, but it’s not the soft kind of quiet. It’s the kind that vibrates as if building up to something. I can feel her anger under her skin, buzzing like she’s too full of it to contain. And I can feel something else, too—disappointment. Not in her brothers. In me.
The closer we get to the cabin, the louder the weight in my chest gets. By the time we reach the porch steps, the guilt is so thick I swear I can taste it.
She turns to me as soon as we’re inside, crossing her arms, her cheeks flushed from the confrontation, the walk, and the whole damn mess of the morning.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
It’s not the usual gentle and sweet tone she uses on me. It’s earnest, honest, and it almost destroys me.
“Yeah,” I manage, even though my throat feels tight. “You?”
She shrugs, annoyed. “I’m fine. They were out of line, but they’ll get over it.”
I want to believe her. I really do. But everything her brothers threw at me—the accusations, anger, and the way they looked at me like I was poison in her water—it lands in my head with perfect clarity.
She thinks they’ll get over it, but I know they won’t.
She steps closer. “Cole, talk to me.”
I take a slow breath. “Ella…”
Her eyes narrow when she realizes what I’m about to do. “Don’t you dare.”
But I do. I have to. Because I can’t breathe under the weight of this truth.
“I don’t want to come between you and your family,” I say quietly.
She freezes, arms dropping. “What?”
“I don’t want to be the reason you fight with them.”
“You aren’t,” she snaps.
“I am.”
“Cole—“
“They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you!” she fires back, loud enough that it echoes. “They’re just—“
“Being protective,” I finish for her. “I know.”
But that’s not the part that hurts. The part that hurts is that they might be right.
She steps closer, eyes burning. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I let out a low exhale, rubbing the back of my neck because I can’t stand how raw I feel. “I knew when I started falling for you that your family might not take it well. I knew there would be fallout.”
It’s why I pushed her away in the first place. But I was not strong enough to keep it that way.
“So?”
“So I still did it.” I look her in the eyes, and I feel myself break a little. “I chose you, knowing it would wreck things for you.”
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“I think it is,” I say quietly.
She stares at me like she doesn’t recognize me. “What are you saying?”
I swallow hard. “Maybe… maybe we should take a step back.”
Silence falls so sharp it could cut skin. Her mouth parts, once, twice, and nothing comes out. Then her eyes harden, silver-bright with betrayal.
“A step back?”
I nod. “Just for now. Until things settle.”
She lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “And you are deciding that without even talking to me?”
“It’s not like that.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
“Ella—“
“No.” She cuts me off with a raised hand. “You don’t get to make this choice for me.” Her voice shakes with fury. “You think I care what they think?” She continues. “You think their approval is what I need to choose you?”
“It matters,” I say, trying to stay steady. “They matter.”
“And you don’t?”
God. That hits harder than all the punches we didn’t throw this morning.
She steps closer, chest rising and falling fast. “I stood between you and three grown men today. I defended you. I took their anger head-on. I chose you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“But I did it anyway!” She presses a hand to her chest. “Because you’re worth it. Because I want us. Because I’m willing to fight for this, for you.” Her voice breaks. “Why aren’t you?”
I close my eyes. “Ella…”
“No,” she whispers fiercely. “Tell me. Why aren’t you fighting for me?”
The truth sits heavy and bitter at the back of my throat. “Because I don’t want to ruin your life.”
She recoils like I slapped her. “My life?” she repeats, stunned.
“You’re twenty-six. Young, beautiful, brilliant. You have everything in front of you. And I’m…”
I laugh once, humorless. “I’m a decade older. Divorced. A single dad with a complicated past and a mess of an ex who won’t leave us alone. Your brothers weren’t wrong. I don’t have anything to offer you.”
She stares at me like her heart just cracked open. “That’s not true,” she whispers.
“That’s exactly true.”
“No,” she says again, stronger, stepping forward. “That’s your cowardice talking. That’s fear.”
I look away. She grabs my chin, forces me to meet her eyes. “You want to push me away because you’re scared? Fine. Say that. But don’t you dare pretend it’s for my sake.”
“Shiloh—“
“No.” Her voice is tight, trembling. “You are a coward if you think walking away is easier than trying. If you think letting me go is ‘doing the right thing.’”
My jaw clenches. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.” She steps back, shaking her head. “I’m ready to fight my whole family for you, but you won’t even fight yourself.”
Her words land hard enough to bruise. Then she inhales sharply, eyes glistening, but she doesn’t let the tears fall. She won’t give me that.
“You think you’re protecting me,” she says quietly. “But really, you’re just letting fear ruin something good.”
She turns away.
“Ella—“
But she’s already walking—fast, angry, hurt. She reaches the door, jerks it open, then stops, just for a heartbeat, shoulders stiff. Without looking back, she says, voice razor-thin: “I thought you were strong. Turns out I was wrong.”
And then she’s gone. Running to the main house, and I don’t chase her. I don’t move. I don’t have the energy to. Her absence floods the cabin instantly, like the air itself is thinner without her.
She’s right. I am a coward.
I sink onto the floor because my legs aren’t cooperating, elbows braced on my knees. My hands shake just enough to make me grit my teeth. I don’t know how long I sit there before I hear quiet steps behind me.
“Daddy?” Aria’s small voice makes something inside my chest twist painfully.
I sit up straighter, swipe my palms over my face. “Hey, sweetheart.”
She climbs onto the step beside me, hugging her knees. “Why do you look sad?”
I swallow, forcing a smile. “I’m okay. Just tired.”
She studies me, really studies me, the way she only does when something scares her. “Where’s Miss Ella?”
I stare straight ahead at nothing. “She… went home.”
“Did she cry?”
The question slices me open. “No,” I answer softly. “She didn’t cry.”
“She looked like she was when she left,” Aria whispers. “You’re lying. I heard you. Did you make her sad?”
Oh God.
I close my eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”
Aria scoots closer, rests her head against my arm. “I love Miss Ella.”
My throat tightens. “I know you do.”
“She makes you happy,” she adds. “And she makes me happy too.”
I swallow hard because the truth in her little voice is the most devastating part of all.
“Daddy?” she whispers.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Are you gonna stop being happy now?”
The air leaves my lungs in one sharp breath. I shake my head quickly, wrapping my arm around her small shoulders. “No. I’m not stopping anything. I’m right here. Always.”
She nods, accepting that easily like kids do, believing you even when you’re breaking.
“I’m tired,” she murmurs.
Yesterday was a long day, so I’m not surprised she wants to keep on sleeping.
“Come on,” I say, standing and lifting her in my arms.
She wraps around me like she used to when she was smaller. I tuck her into bed gently, smoothing her hair back, kissing her forehead twice because she needs it, and because I need it more.
“Get some rest, sweetheart,” I whisper.
“Okay, Daddy.”
When I stand back up, the room feels too quiet.
The whole cabin feels too empty. Too wrong.
I walk back to the porch because I can’t stand being inside.
The sun is still high up in the sky, unforgiving.
I have to get back to work. More responsibilities await me.
But for now, I just need five minutes to myself.
I sink into the porch chair, elbows on my knees, hands clasped. Ella’s gone, and I didn’t stop her. Because maybe letting her walk away is the only thing I’m good at. Maybe that’s all I’ve ever been good at—losing the people I love most.
I stare out at the horizon, jaw tight, chest hollow. If this is what it takes to keep her safe… If staying away is the price… Then I’ll pay it.
Even if it kills me.