4. Cole
COLE
L unch with Tori was quickly becoming the highlight of my week. That day, I arrived early at Maple Grove Café.
It was a cozy spot she’d suggested tucked just off Main Street, its brick walls lined with plants and warm, wooden décor.
I couldn’t deny the way my pulse quickened at the thought of seeing her again.
She had a way of lighting up a room just by walking into it.
The more I learned about her, the more that quiet intensity in her eyes intrigued me.
When she finally walked in, my breath caught.
She wore a simple green dress that complemented her dark hair, the color deepening the warmth in her eyes.
I rose as she approached, fighting to keep the eager smile off my face, not wanting to overwhelm her.
Tori was still guarded around me, and though I could guess why, I still didn’t know the full story.
I wanted to respect her boundaries, but I also wanted her to know I was here for the long haul, even if she didn’t fully trust me yet.
"Hi," she greeted, her voice soft but steady as she took her seat across from me.
Her expression was composed, polite, but there was a flicker of something deeper that I hoped to bring to the surface.
“Hi, Tori,” I replied, unable to keep my smile from growing. “Thanks for meeting me here.”
We ordered our drinks, and I leaned back, studying her.
I tried to resist the urge to ask every question that had been piling up in my mind since the first time I saw her.
"So," she began once the waiter stepped away, tilting her head slightly as if weighing her words, "how does a guy like you keep ending up in Oakridge Bay?"
“A guy like me?” I chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She looked down, twisting the napkin in her hands with a faint smile.
“You know, someone probably way too busy for a small town like this,” Tori said.
I shrugged, swirling the spoon in my coffee.
“I’m a little different from my family, I guess. I like space to think, to breathe. I wasn’t expecting to find… someone like you here, though.”
I held her gaze, waiting for her reaction.
A flicker of surprise crossed her face, and she quickly looked down, cheeks coloring just a bit.
She laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine, but I sensed her unease.
“I think you’re trying to make me blush,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, if I am, it’s working,” I teased, trying to keep things light.
We talked about everything—her boutique, the town’s quirks, her love of vintage clothing.
But I could tell she was holding back, skirting around anything that dipped below the surface.
I wanted her to feel safe, but a part of me ached to know more.
To understand the shadows that occasionally flitted through her expression.
Finally, when the conversation lulled, I decided to offer a piece of myself first, hoping it might encourage her to do the same.
“So,” I began, running a hand through my hair. “Dating history. Want to swap stories?”
I gave her a lopsided grin, aiming for casual, though the question held more weight than I wanted to admit.
Her brows lifted, eyes flicking up to meet mine, cautious and curious.
“You first,” she said, crossing her arms on the table, leaning forward slightly.
I leaned back, gathering my thoughts.
“All right, but I’ll warn you—it’s probably going to be a little boring. My dating history is… bland. Lots of polite dinners, plenty of nice girls who could have checked every box. But the truth is, none of them really did it for me. They were beautiful, successful, everything my family could approve of, but—” I paused, trying to find the right words, watching her closely.
Tori’s eyes softened, as though she could sense the vulnerability in what I was saying.
“But what?” she asked softly.
“But I didn’t feel anything. Not really.”
I looked down, remembering those nights in expensive restaurants, the surface-level conversations, the pleasant but vacant dates.
I continued, “I guess I just… wasn’t interested in pretending with them. It wasn’t enough for me. I’d rather wait for something real.”
I glanced up at her, hoping she understood what I wasn’t saying.
She seemed to consider this, her gaze drifting out the window, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass.
“I know what that’s like,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Do you?” I pressed, sensing this was as close as she’d come to opening up.
Her eyes flicked back to mine, wary but vulnerable.
“After my last relationship… I told myself I’d focus on my career. I needed to rebuild my life, to make something of my own,” Tori said.
The words hung between us, and I could feel the weight of what she wasn’t saying.
She’d been hurt, scarred by something or someone in her past, and the resolve in her voice was laced with the echo of old wounds.
“Tori,” I said softly, my voice firm with the weight of my intentions. “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to. But I want you to know, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded slowly, offering a faint, grateful smile.
Still, I could still see the tension in her eyes, a guardedness that told me she wasn’t ready to let anyone in yet—not even me.
And that was fine; I respected that.
“It’s… flattering, you know,” she said after a pause, her eyes searching mine. “That you’re here, I mean.”
She looked down, fidgeting with her napkin again, her voice barely audible as she continued, “But I’m… not sure if I’m ready for anything beyond a professional relationship right now.”
The words hit like a cold splash of water, but I nodded, forcing myself to stay composed.
I knew this wasn’t about me—it was about the pain she carried. If it took time, I’d wait. She was worth it.
“I understand,” I replied, my voice steady, reassuring. “We can keep things professional. No pressure, no expectations. Just… two people sharing lunch.”
She gave me a skeptical look, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Sure, Mr. Professional,” she said.
We both laughed, but I could sense her wariness behind it, a hesitation that told me how deeply guarded she still was.
And it only made me want to protect her more, to show her that with me, she could feel safe.
“So tell me, Tori,” I said, changing the subject as I leaned forward, my hand brushing lightly across hers as I reached for my drink, “what’s your favorite part about owning a boutique?”
She looked down at our hands, a faint blush coloring her cheeks before she pulled her hand back.
“It’s a dream come true, honestly,” she admitted, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “I love curating everything, helping people find something that makes them feel special. It’s… personal. A piece of me in every item I choose for the store.”
Her passion was infectious, and I found myself captivated by the way she spoke about her work.
The way her eyes sparkled as she described the little things that brought her joy.
I listened intently, nodding along.
When she spoke of her store, it was as if the walls around her heart crumbled, even if only a little.
Time slipped away, and by the end of the lunch, I realized I was hooked, even more than I’d thought.
Tori was smart, resilient, and so much more than the shadows in her past.
I wanted her to feel that, to know she could let herself feel again.
As we walked back to her boutique, I felt an urge to reach out, to brush a hand down her arm, to let her know I was here.
But I held back, knowing she needed space.
When we reached the door, she hesitated, turning to look at me with a soft, unreadable expression.
“Thank you for lunch,” she said quietly. “It was… nice.”
Her words were simple, but I could sense the layers of meaning in them.
She was grateful, yes, but there was something deeper, a note of hope laced with hesitation.
“The pleasure was all mine,” I replied, smiling down at her. “Whenever you’re ready for round three, you know where to find me.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
“For the right person, yeah,” I replied, feeling that truth resonate in my chest.
I wanted to show her that I wasn’t just another face in a line of passing relationships.
That I was here for her, and that I’d wait as long as it took for her to trust me.
As she opened the door to the boutique, she looked back, her gaze softening for just a moment.
“See you around, Cole,” Tori said.
And with that, she stepped inside, leaving me standing on the sidewalk.
I was already counting down the moments until I could see her again.