Chapter 1 – Kenna-Present #3
“I am so sorry. I wish I could’ve come back sooner,” he whispers, his hands cupping my face, brushing his thumb gently over my cheek. “But I am here now, and I swear I’ll never leave you again. I never stopped thinking about you, Kenna. Never.”
His eyes search mine, desperate and hopeful. And I hate the part of me that still wants to believe him, still wants to reach for the memory of us and make it real again.
For a moment, everything else in the world falls away.
The chaos of the salon, the weight of my past, and the pressure of forgiveness—they are all irrelevant at this moment.
All that mattered was that Cole was here.
Right in front of me. And no matter how much time has passed, no matter how broken we have been, I still feel that pull.
That ache in my chest is for him. It’s always been him.
I should’ve been more prepared for this moment.
But how do you prepare for a ghost coming back to life?
The second Cole pulls me into his arms, my body seems to recognize him in a way my brain doesn’t. It is as if every cell in my body has been waiting for this, for him to return, to stand here in front of me, looking exactly like the boy I used to love.
Only now, there is something
He’s not a boy anymore. He’s a man—with years carved into his face and grief in his eyes. And yet…his love feels unchanged.
His warmth, his familiar scent, the strength of his arms around me—it was all so real, so undeniable, but then the memories flood back. Uninvited and unforgiving. How he had gone away.
I can feel the tension in my chest building, the conflicting emotions swirling.
“I finally have sunshine in my life,” he whispers again into my hair.
And this time, the words don’t just hit me—they shatter something.
For a second, all I can do is stand there. His words don’t just hit me. They wreck me. It’s been so long—nine years—and I thought I was over it. I thought I’d moved on.
But here I am, standing in the arms of the person who once made me believe in things I didn’t even understand. And no matter how hard I try to deny it, there’s still a part of me, buried deep and stubborn, that’s still in love with him.
I have to be honest with myself. We have to be honest.
“Cole,” I pull back, just enough to meet his eyes, my hands resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palms. I swallow hard, trying to steady my racing thoughts. “It has been nine years. Nine. I’ve moved on. There was no other option. I just couldn’t wait for you.”
He flinches at my words, his eyes darkening, and I see the guilt flash across his face. But I’m not done yet.
“I don’t even know how to make sense of this anymore,” I continue, my voice shaking a little. “I thought I had put it all behind me. But every time I think about you, I realize…I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Even after everything that has happened.”
Cole’s expression softens, his thumb brushing across my cheek, as if trying to erase the doubt from my face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Ken. You know that. Back then, you were my life. You are my life. If I could go back—”
“No,” I interrupt gently, shaking my head. “We can’t go back. We can’t undo what happened.”
He nods, his jaw tightening as if my words physically pain him. I could see how much he wanted to change the past, but I couldn’t hold on to that fantasy. I needed to accept that we’d both grown, both changed.
“I don’t need to go back, Kenna. I just need a chance,” he says, his voice low, almost desperate. “A chance to prove that I can be the person you deserve.”
“I’m not asking for a second chance, Cole,” I mumble. “I’m not sure if I’m even ready for that,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat. “I need something new. Something we can build from the ground up. How about we start as friends?”
The word hung between us, strange and fragile.
Friends. A soft word for a sharp ache.
It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but it feels like the only thing that makes sense. If I let myself fall back into whatever this was without taking the time to heal, without taking the time to figure out who we are now, I’d just be repeating the past. And I couldn’t afford to do that again.
Cole’s face was unreadable for a moment, and I see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. But then something shifts. His shoulders relax, and he gives me that crooked smile I’ve missed so much.
“Friends, huh?” he says, his voice sarcastic, but there is a warmth behind it that makes my chest ache. “I guess I could do that. But don’t expect me to stop fighting for you, Sunshine.”
I let out a shaky laugh, the tension in my chest easing just a little. “I don’t expect you to. But I need to know that we can take this slow. That we can start over, not as the people we were before, but as the people we are now.”
He nods slowly, his expression softening again. “Okay. I’ll be here, Kenna. I’ll be patient.”
Our eyes met, and in that moment, the weight of the past lifted for the first time since he’d come into my office. The future’s uncertain, but I’m going to do what is best for me and my son.
And maybe, just maybe, a flicker of warmth ignited within me, a willingness to include him in the dreams I held for our future. This time, things needed to change.
“I need to get back to my family,” I say, stepping back and gathering my purse from the desk. “But I’ll think about what you said. Let’s take it one step at a time. Friends, okay?”
“Friends,” Cole repeats, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “One step at a time.”
I walk towards the door, but before I reach the handle, I turn back to look at him one last time.
“Cole,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “I’m not promising anything. But I will give you a chance. To be the man you want me to see. But it starts with friendship.”
He gives me a single nod, his face showing a mixture of relief and determination.
He smiles, crooked and familiar. “I can live with that.”
But even as I speak the words, the truth I haven’t said out loud thrums under my skin like a second heartbeat.
He doesn’t know about Cohen.
Not yet.
But he will.
I take one last glance at him before stepping into the hallway, the weight of the conversation heavy on my shoulders. The pull to stay, to run back to him, is strong. But I need to keep my feet grounded. We were starting over, and that meant setting boundaries.
As I drive home, I am full of so many emotions, but my heart feels quieter somehow, clearer.
Because maybe…starting over doesn’t mean forgetting the past. Maybe it means forgiving it.
One step at a time.
And maybe, just maybe, the first step is exactly where we were supposed to be—friends…with unfinished history and a future neither of us can quite imagine yet.