Chapter 2 – Cole-Present
Chapter Two
A DOOR LEFT OPEN
COLE-PRESENT
The first few days back in Cherry Falls feel like I’m walking through someone else’s dream.
Everything in Cherry Falls holds memories I can’t escape.
It’s like being stuck in a loop, the past always just a step behind me.
The faces are familiar, but they’re not mine anymore.
People look at me with that knowing stare, like they remember the Cole they used to know.
The one who messed everything up, the one who got sent to prison.
I can’t blame them. I’ve been gone for so long, and the world has changed, but I haven’t. Not really.
The ghosts I left behind still live in every shadow, whispering what could’ve been.
I want to see Kenna. God, I want to see her. But I don’t know if she’s ready for that. If I’m ready for that. We left things so…unfinished, and I’ve never been good at fixing what is broken.
But I feel her in everything. The way the town breathes, the way the light falls across the pavement at sunset. She’s still everywhere. Still mine in some small, foolish part of me that refuses to let go.
I’ve been trying to stay out of the spotlight, keeping to myself, walking around town like I’m just another guy.
But when I pass Enchanted Locks, I feel a pull in my chest. I watch through the salon window—people chatting with Kenna, laughing, getting their hair done—and a strange sense of pride rushes over me.
Kenna built this. From nothing. She’s made a name for herself here.
She’s created a world that doesn’t need me, and yet all I want is to be part of it.
I know it hasn’t been easy, and I know I wasn’t here to help her through any of it, but I can’t help but feel…proud. For her. For all she’s accomplished.
And a little bit shattered that she did it all without me.
I linger across the street, hands stuffed deep in my jacket pockets, watching the way she moves through the space—graceful, confident. The girl I remember is still in there somewhere. She’s built something beautiful. Something she deserves. But I can’t walk in there. Not yet.
Because if she looks at me with indifference…if I see that I’ve become a memory she no longer mourns…I don’t know if I’ll survive it.
I know the people in town still talk about me, still have their opinions about what happened, why I ended up in prison. And Kenna—she doesn’t owe me anything. She doesn’t owe me a second of her time.
But I owe her everything. Even if she never lets me say it.
I keep walking.
The days slip by. I wander through familiar faces—places I haven’t been to in years—just trying to fill the silence. I stop by a few old spots, run into a couple of people I used to know, but none of it feels like home.
They look at me like they want to believe I’ve changed, but no one says it out loud. And honestly, maybe they shouldn’t.
I still don’t know where I fit into this place anymore, but I know I won’t find it by hiding.
So I keep moving, hoping one of these streets will lead me back to her.
I decide to take a walk to the shore. It’s always the same, no matter how much time passes.
The scent of the salt in the air, the rhythmic crash of the waves against the sand—it’s like stepping into another version of myself, one I left behind a long time ago.
I used to come here to think, to clear my head, and today, it’s where I find myself again.
I’ve been walking for what feels like hours, my feet sinking into the sand with every step. The late afternoon sun paints the sky with shades of orange and pink, and the cool breeze tugs at my jacket, reminding me that life moves forward, whether I’m ready.
But part of me is still stuck back there—on the day I let go of the one person who believed in me.
I find a spot near the water’s edge and sit down, watching the waves roll in. It’s quiet here. Peaceful in a way that almost makes the chaos of everything else feel distant. I pull my knees to my chest and let the memories flood in.
The last time I was here with Kenna was years ago.
Back when everything felt simple—before everything I did drove us apart.
We were still kids, still figuring out who we were and what we wanted.
It was summer, and the heat had wrapped around us like a blanket, the warmth that made the world feel safe.
I remember the way she laughed. Her head tilted back, eyes bright, and her fingers tangled with mine like they belonged there.
I decide then to go to the salon in a few days. If I don’t run into her by then, I’ll make the first move. I won’t force it, but I’ll go. I’ll figure out a way to see her, to talk to her, even if it’s just for a minute.
Because maybe…just maybe…there’s still something left to salvage.
It’s the day I’m going to the salon. I’m standing across from Enchanted Locks.
There are only a few people inside. My heart beats faster than it should.
The nerves settle in like they always do when I think about Kenna, but this time it’s different.
I’m not worried about what she’ll say. I’m worried about what I’ll say.
Worried that the moment I see her, all my rehearsed lines will vanish, and all I’ll be able to do is look at her like I used to. She was the only thing that ever made sense in my life.
I step up to the door, take a deep breath, and push it open.
The soft hum of hairdryers, the rhythmic snip of scissors, the chatter of the customers—it’s all so normal, so familiar, but there’s a hollow feeling that cuts through the noise. Something is missing.
And that something is her.
It’s like walking into a dream I’ve had a thousand times, only this time, she’s not there waiting for me.
I glance around quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of her somewhere, but the salon is quiet aside from the few stylists working. None of them are people I remember, and none of them are her.
A heavy sigh escapes me, but I force my chest to calm. Maybe she’s just out back. Maybe she’s taking a break.
Maybe the universe is just giving me a few more seconds to get it together before I fall apart at the sight of her.
I keep telling myself that, but a part of me feels like I’ve just walked into a place I don’t belong, a place I’m not welcome.
I stand near the counter, fidgeting with the zipper of my jacket, unsure of what to do. My eyes keep drifting to the door, half-hoping that she’ll walk in at any moment, that I’ll catch a glimpse of her smile, that we can pick up where we left off.
But a bigger part of me knows we’re not kids anymore. This town doesn’t give out do-overs easily.
But none of that happens. The door doesn’t open, and the world keeps spinning without her.
“Can I help you?” One stylist finally asks, a young woman with bleach-blonde hair and a warm smile. She seems friendly enough, but I can’t muster the energy to reciprocate her enthusiasm.
“Uh, yeah…I’m just…looking for Kenna,” I say, my voice more tentative than I want it to be. “She’s not here?”
The stylist shakes her head. “She stepped out for a bit. She should be back soon. If you want to wait in her office, you can.”
I nod. This was predictable. Not sure what I expected to happen—maybe just a chance to catch her in the middle of everything. To talk while she worked. Something casual, something easy.
I wanted to catch her in her element, in the world she built, so I could see her surrounded by everything she’s created—and know if I still fit there.
But it’s never been that easy with Kenna, has it?
I walk down the hallway. The walls are decorated with pictures of vibrant hairstyles, framed awards from the past. The place has her stamp on it, but I can’t shake the weight of her absence.
Everything smells like her, a mix of citrus and warmth, and the ache buried deep in my chest claws its way to the surface.
In her office, I sit down in the chair at the desk, trying to force myself to relax. There are framed photos of her and her family, one at a wedding. It looks like her younger sister, Millie, is the bride.
Kenna is radiant.
She’s smiling like the world never hurt her, like maybe she learned to laugh again in all the years I was gone.
The way her hair catches the light as it falls in messy waves, that soft blonde shade turning golden, almost ethereal. It’s always been like that, gentle and warm, like sunshine woven into strands of silk.
Her eyes, though, that’s where it all begins.
They’ve always held me captive. A soft shade of green, like the stem of a flower.
But it’s not just their color. It’s the way they reflect everything around her, the little sparks of curiosity, the way they narrow when she’s focused, the warmth they carry when she lets her guard down.
The way they used to look at me like I was worth loving.
When she looks at me, it’s like everything else disappears, and for a split second, it’s just her and me in a world where nothing else matters.
As time goes by, the thought of seeing her again grows into an ache I can’t ignore any longer.
It feels like forever until I hear the doorknob turn, and the moment my eyes land on Kenna, I freeze. There is no pretending. No hiding.
Every part of me goes still, like I’ve forgotten how to breathe, how to be without her.
She looks just as real as I remember, maybe even more so, if that’s possible.
Kenna’s strawberry hair is pulled up in a messy bun, strands falling loosely around her face.
That’s the thing with her—no matter how she wears her hair, it’s always beautiful and always pulls me in.
Her face is softer than I remember, like life has etched something new into her, but there’s still that fire in her eyes.
A fire I didn’t put out, even if I dimmed it for a while.