20. Cole
COLE
T he lake shimmered under the setting sun, the water casting ripples of gold that danced across the shore.
It was quiet here, save for the occasional rustling of leaves or the faint hum of insects in the distance.
I’d chosen this place on purpose—it was quiet and no one would disturb us here.
Tori stood at the edge of the dock, her arms crossed against the evening chill as she gazed out at the water.
Her hair caught the dying light, a cascade of fire against the soft tones of her skin.
She looked gorgeous, peaceful, but I knew her well enough to sense the undercurrent of emotion beneath that calm exterior.
This was the moment.
I walked up behind her, careful not to startle her, and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked her.
She turned, her lips curving into a small, almost shy smile.
“Just thinking how far we’ve come. This place... it feels different now,” Tori said.
I nodded, stepping beside her.
“It’s the same lake, the same dock. But we’re not the same people,” I remarked.
Her gaze flicked to mine, something soft and vulnerable lingering in her eyes.
“No, we’re not,” Tori agreed.
We stood there for a moment, the silence between us comfortable, like a shared secret.
I wanted her to feel the weight of this moment, to understand how much she meant to me, how much she always would.
“I’ve been thinking,” I began, my voice low and steady.
I continued, “About everything we’ve been through—Marcus, the fear, the fights. But also the good things. The way you light up when you talk about your boutique. The way you make me laugh even when I’m drowning in work. The way you let me in, piece by piece, even when it scared you.”
Her eyes shimmered, and she reached out to take my hand, her fingers warm and steady against mine. “Cole...”
I took a breath, steadying myself.
“I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose us . And I know we’ve been through hell, but we made it. Together. And I want that to mean something,” I said.
Her lips parted, but no words came, just the slight squeeze of her hand on mine.
“I’m not asking for a ring or a piece of paper,” I continued. “I’m asking for you, Tori. For the life we could build together. I want to be there for the little things and the big things. I want everything with you.”
Her laugh came out wet, a mix of humor and tears.
“I want everything too,” Tori said. “Even though you’re impossible at times.”
“You love me anyway,” I said, my tone soft but sure.
“I do,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the words. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes.”
I reached up, cupping her face in my hands. “I’m not immune. It scares me as well but we’ll face the unknown together.”
The kiss we shared then was slow and deep, filled with every promise I couldn’t put into words.
When we pulled apart, her forehead rested against mine, and the world around us felt miles away.
“Okay,” she said finally, her voice steady despite the emotion that lingered. “Okay. Let’s do this. Let’s build that life, Cole.”
My chest swelled, the weight of her words sinking in. She was choosing this—choosing me .
We stayed on the dock for a while longer, talking about everything and nothing.
At one point, I told her about a small property near the boutique, one that could be a perfect little home base for us.
By the time the stars had come out, we were lying side by side on the dock, her head resting on my chest as we stared up at the sky.
The quiet was no longer heavy with fear or doubt but filled with hope and possibility.
“I never thought I’d feel this way again,” she admitted softly, her fingers tracing patterns on my shirt.
“What way?” I asked.
“Safe. Loved. Like I’m enough,” Tori said.
I tilted my head to look at her, my heart aching with the depth of my feelings.
“Tori, you’ve always been enough. More than enough. I just feel lucky that I get to remind you of that every day,” I said.
She tilted her face up toward mine, her smile radiant in the starlight.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Cole,” she said.
We stayed like that until the chill of the night forced us back inside.
In the warmth of the lake house, we curled up on the couch, a shared blanket draped over us.
“This is it,” I said quietly, my arm wrapped around her.
“This is what?”
“This is the beginning. Of us. Of everything we’re going to build.”
She leaned into me, her voice soft and sure. “Then let’s make it a good one.”
And I knew, without a doubt, that we would.
THE END
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