Chapter 2 – Cole-Present #2
She doesn’t see me at first—she’s focused on something on the desk, her back slightly turned. I can feel the weight of time between us, like a wall that’s never been fully torn down. But when she turns and meets my gaze, everything in the room shifts. My pulse stutters. She’s here.
She’s here.
Not in a memory, not in a dream—but really, actually here.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but never imagined I’d be like this…lost for words. My hands tighten into fists at my side, and for a second I feel like I’m right back in high school, nervous and unsure. I take a step toward her, my body reacting before my brain can catch up.
Kenna’s eyes widen, and for a moment, she doesn’t move. Her expression is guarded—expectant, maybe, but not welcoming. But then she lets out a breath, and before I can think twice, I’m pulling her into my arms.
Waiting any longer feels like more time wasted.
The moment I hold her, it’s like the universe quiets down. Her warmth, her softness—everything about her is so Kenna. The scent of her hair floods my senses—orange and cinnamon, a combination I could never forget. It’s familiar and intoxicating, like coming home after being lost for far too long.
I whisper in her hair, my voice low and hoarse. “I’ve finally found my sunshine.”
I hesitate to leave the salon after seeing Kenna. It’s almost as if my body knows something my mind hasn’t caught up to yet. My hand lingers on the handle, my chest tight, my pulse still echoing with the sound of her voice saying my name.
Cole.
I finally push the door open, and the bell chimes overhead, sharp and final.
I take a few steps away from the building before realizing I’m holding my breath.
Seeing her wrecked me.
Nine years of imaging this moment couldn’t have prepared me for the reality of it.
The way her eyes searched mine like she was bracing for impact.
The way home and hurt lived side by side in her expression.
I felt it then and I still feel it now. That pull.
The ache. Like a part of me never left this place, never stopped orbiting her.
Friends.
The word settles heavy in my gut. It wasn’t a flat out rejection, but it was far from forgiveness. A fragile truce. A line drawn carefully.
I walk down the street, my mind a storm of thoughts and emotions I can’t name fast enough to keep up with.
I know I’ve got a lot to prove—prove that I’m not the same guy who left all those years ago, but also that I’m still the same boy she fell in love with.
The boy who used to make her laugh so hard she cried, who held her hand like it was the only thing tethering him to the world.
The gap between Kenna and me feels overwhelming at the moment, but I’m determined to bridge it.
It’s not just a gap. It’s a canyon—wide, jagged, full of ghosts. And I know I dug it.
I’ve had years to think about what I want, and she has always been a part of that plan. Even if the timing was wrong before, this time…it’s different.
This time, I’m not just chasing redemption. I’m chasing her.
This time, I’m going to make it right.
My mind is racing as I walk down the street, trying to work out exactly how I’m going to fix this.
I can’t expect Kenna to just forgive me.
Hell, I wouldn’t forgive me. But I know one thing for sure.
I will earn her trust again, I’m going to show her I can be the man she deserves.
I’m not asking for her heart right now—I’m simply wanting a chance.
A single open door. A sliver of light. Anything.
And as I’m lost in my thoughts, I spot the cafe that is living where the old thrift store was. Beanstalk Cafe. The windows glow like something out of a memory I never had—a warm, golden sort of comfort that beckons.
I step inside, and the little bell above the door rings softly, making a gentle chime that seems to echo in the room. Immediately, I’m hit with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. The place is warm and inviting, everything I didn’t know I was looking for.
The smell of roasted coffee beans and something sweet lingers in the air. I pull my coat tighter, scanning the room. My eyes are drawn to the counter, where a woman stands who looks exactly like Kenna but with red hair.
They have the same sharp jawline, the same bright eyes—only this woman has a light to her that Kenna is missing. A spark that hasn’t been dulled by time or the grief of heartbreak. I remember when Kenna was like that…happy, carefree.
Before I shattered us.
I ruined that. And I want to fix it. Fix us.
“Can I help you?”
I turn, startled by the voice—a melodic, clear tone that brings me back to Earth.
“Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat trying to act casual, even though my stomach’s knotted and my chest feels too tight. “I just want a sweet iced tea if you have it.”
She nods. “We have a lot of sweet tea options. They’re my sister’s favorite, so I made a section dedicated to her.”
My heart stumbles. Her sister.
I blink, trying to decide whether to out who I am to Kenna’s sister or not. She clearly doesn’t recognize me.
“I know,” I say, swallowing hard. “Then I’ll have your sister’s favorite. I trust her.”
Her face softens slightly. It’s quick, like she’s remembering something. “Cole? It’s Millie.”
I freeze. Mille. Kenna’s younger sister. She looks so different from the last I saw her. I thought she was Kenna’s other sister when I walked in.
“Yeah, that’s me.” I say, shifting on my feet. My voice sounds smaller than I want it to—exposed.
Millie studies me for a moment, and I can feel the weight of her judgement, her eyes narrowing as if she’s peeling me back, trying to see who I really am underneath all the layers.
Like she’s looking through me instead of at me.
She remembers the boy who broke her sister’s heart and wonders if I’ve changed enough to be worth anything now.
Then she speaks again, softer, but still with that edge.
“You better prove to her you've either changed or still love her. She never got over you. And I won’t let you hurt her again. I don’t care what your intentions are.” She gestures around the room. “This place is my life, and so is my family. So if you’re playing games, I’ll know.”
I nod, trying to keep my composure. I didn’t come here looking for a fight, but I get where she’s coming from. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably be just as cautious.
“I’m not here to play games,” I mumble. “All I want is a shot. I’ve spent the last nine years thinking about her. I want—I need to show her I’m worth the effort.”
Millie’s gaze softens, just a little. “You better be,” she mutters under her breath. Then louder she adds. “If you want to be with Kenna, just give her space. She’s been through enough.”
Her words land like anchors in my gut. I know that. I know how much she’s endured—not just because of me, but because life never gave her a break. She kept going. She built a life out of broken pieces. She made something of herself when I disappeared.
I leave the café with a determined pep in my step, even though the rest of my body feels like a ton of bricks. Because for the first time, someone said it out loud. She never got over me.
There’s still something left. Something worth fighting for.
And I will.
Every damn day.