Chapter 22 – Cole-Present #2
The drive to Reuben’s place is a blur, but I can feel the tension in the air. Neither of us says much, but I know we’re both thinking about the same thing. Cohen.
“I’m sorry, man,” Reuben says as we turn onto his street. “But I’m glad Kenna was the one who told you, you needed to know.”
“I don’t know what to do with all this,” I say, my voice tight. “I’m supposed to be a father. How can I be a father when I’ve missed everything?”
Reuben doesn’t have an answer, but he doesn’t need to. He pulls into his driveway, and I see the toys scattered around his living room. Little plastic trucks, action figures, and books—things that belong to Cohen.
I freeze. This is his life. This is what I’ve missed.
Reuben looks at me, his face softening. “Cohen’s been staying here a lot lately. Kenna’s been trying to figure out where things stand, and Cohen’s been here a couple of days while she spends time with you.”
I swallow hard. My heart aches for Cohen. I want to be the one to spend time with him. I want to be the one to take him on adventures.
“Cohen’s an awesome kid, man,” Reuben says as we walk into the living room, sitting down on the couch.
“He loves going on adventures. On Sundays, Kenna and he have their special day. Anything he wants to do, they do. He loves school. He’s smart as hell, especially with reading.
Despite not having many friends, he’s a great kid when he opens up.
His family is very important to him, and Kenna is a good parent. ”
My heart breaks hearing this, but it’s also a little comforting. Kenna’s done her best for him, and she’s done it alone.
Reuben pauses, then adds quietly, “And he’s so lucky to have her.”
I can’t help but agree. Kenna’s been through so much. I’ve been gone, and she’s had to carry this all by herself.
“I’m thankful Cohen has Kenna as his mom,” I whisper. “She’s everything to him. And now, I get the chance to be in his life. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I want to be a part of his life.”
Reuben nods, his face serious. “You’ll figure it out, man. He’s a good kid. And you’ll be a good dad. When you’re ready.”
I take a deep breath. I’m not ready yet. But I will be.
I send Kenna a text when I get a moment.
Me
Whenever you’re ready to talk about what’s next, I’m ready.
It’s a start. It’s the first step.
I hope it’s enough.
The hours feel like days as I lie in Reuben’s guest bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.
There’s a persistent buzzing in my chest, a constant hum of confusion and disbelief.
How am I supposed to just wake up tomorrow and figure everything out?
I’ve spent so long living in this haze, buried in regret and guilt over what happened in the past, that now that I finally know the truth, it feels like too much to handle.
I rub my face with both hands, restless, like I’m trying to scrub the last few years off my skin. My life had a before and after, and I didn’t even know where the line had been drawn until now.
I close my eyes, and the image of Cohen floods my mind.
I picture the blue of his eyes that are so much like mine.
His bright and curious smile is all Kenna.
He sounds like the perfect little boy, and he is a beautiful boy.
And yet...I missed everything. For his first steps and first word, I wasn’t there.
I wasn’t there for any of it. I don’t even know what it would feel like to be his dad.
How do I make up for all those lost years?
Would he even want me around? Would I scare him off just by existing?
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s Kenna.
Sunshine
Can we talk tomorrow?
I stare at the message, my heart pounding. I want to say yes, to reach out to her and beg for the chance to see her, to talk through everything. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I’ve figured out who I am now that I know about Cohen. I can’t just walk back into her life like nothing happened.
Still, I can’t leave her hanging.
Me
I’m here. Whenever you’re ready.
I send the message before I can talk myself out of it, then toss my phone aside. It feels like a small step, but it’s something. I need her to know that I’m here. That I’m trying.
The next morning, I wake up with the weight of everything pressing down on me. Reuben’s house is quiet, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the early morning stillness. I roll out of bed and head downstairs, rubbing my face, trying to shake off the remnants of a restless night.
Reuben’s already up, sipping coffee at the kitchen table. He looks at me as I walk in, and I can tell he’s been waiting for me to say something.
“You good?” he asks again, his tone more understanding now. He’s been through a lot with Kenna, and I know he’s trying to figure out how to help me through this.
I sit down across from him, picking up the coffee mug in front of me, but I don’t drink. I just stare at the black liquid. “I don’t know, man,” I finally admit. “After missing so much, I don’t know how to be a father. How am I supposed to just jump in now? What if Cohen doesn’t even like me?”
Reuben looks at me for a long time before answering.
“I think Cohen will like you just fine. But you have to give him a chance. Give yourself a chance. The hardest thing is taking the first step, but you can’t let fear hold you back.
You can’t change the past, but you can change how you move forward. ”
His words land heavy, but true. I think of all the chances I’ve had to change things, all the choices I made or didn’t make. This time, I have to choose differently.
I look up at him, and for the first time since I found out about Cohen, I feel a little bit of clarity. It’s not all lost. I can still try. I have to try.
Reuben stands up, refilling his mug, and I follow his lead, finally taking a sip of my own coffee. It burns my tongue, but it feels good. The sharpness of the heat grounds me for a second, helps me refocus.
“Kenna’s strong, man,” Reuben says after a pause. “But she didn’t do it alone. I’ve seen her struggle, especially when Cohen was younger. She carried a lot of weight, and she’s carried it for a long time. But Cohen’s her world. Everything she does is for him.”
I nod, swallowing hard. I know. I know Kenna better than anyone. She’s always been so selfless, always doing what’s best for the people she loves, but I never realized how deep it went until now.
“You’re not just some guy in the picture,” Reuben continues.
“Cohen’s not going to see you as someone who just showed up out of nowhere.
He’s going to see you as his dad. And that’s going to take time.
But he’s a smart kid. He will not judge you for not having been there before.
He’s going to want you to be there now.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I hope you’re right.”
Reuben doesn’t answer, but he gives me a look. He doesn’t need to say anything else. He’s already said enough.
By the time afternoon rolls around, I’m feeling a little more grounded. A little more at ease. I know I need to face Kenna, but the fear is still there, lurking in the back of my mind. What if she’s angry? What if she resents me for not being there?
What if she’s moved on? I don’t just mean romantically. What if she’s closed the door on the version of me that could’ve been part of their life?
The door to Reuben’s house opens, and I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. I stand up, my stomach churning. But it’s just Reuben. He glances at me and raises an eyebrow. “Still want to go see Kenna today?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I have to. I can’t put it off any longer.”
Reuben gives me a half-smile. “Just take it one step at a time, man.”
I drive to Kenna’s house in silence. My hands grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.
I don’t know what to expect when I see her.
I don’t know how she’ll react to me. I don’t know how I’ll react to her.
All I know is that I need to face her. I need to look her in the eyes and try to make things right.
When I pull into her driveway, my heart races. I turn off the engine and sit there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. My phone buzzes again, and I glance at the screen. It’s a message from Kenna.
Sunshine
I’m here. Come in when you’re ready.
I swallow hard and get out of the car, my legs shaky as I walk to the front door.
I knock.
The door opens almost immediately. Kenna stands in the doorway, her eyes cautious but soft. She’s beautiful, as always, but there’s a weariness about her I’ve never noticed before. She’s holding herself together, but I can see it—how much this has taken out of her.
“Cole,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
When I try to speak, my words get stuck in my throat. I can’t find the right thing to say. I can’t find the words to explain everything I’m feeling. All I can do is stand there, looking at her, and let the tears come.
“I’m sorry, Kenna,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes fill with unshed tears as she steps forward, closing the gap between us. She doesn’t say anything at first. She just pulls me into a hug. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself fall into it, holding her close as the tears spill down my face.
I press my face into her shoulder, breathing in orange and cinnamon. Bright and warmth that makes this moment feel like home. My arms tighten around her, and for just a second, I let myself believe this might be a beginning.
I don’t know how long we stand there, just holding each other. All I know is that I’m not ready to let go. Not yet.
She shifts closer, pressing her entire body against mine like she’s afraid to let even an inch of space between us.
My hands slide up her back, fingers splaying between her shoulder blades as I hold on tighter.
Her palms flatten against my chest, bunching the fabric of my shirt in her fists as though she needs something solid to cling to.
I feel her breath against my neck—soft, shaky, warm—and she tucks her face into the curve where my shoulder meets my jaw.
Her lips brush my skin, not intentionally, just from how close we are, but the contact sends something sharp and aching through me.
My thumb traces small circles at the base of her spine, trying to soothe whatever tremor I can feel pulsing under the surface.
Her heartbeat is fast, almost frantic, and mine isn’t any steadier.
I slide one hand up into her hair, fingertips brushing the back of her neck.
She melts into the touch, her body relaxing by inches, like she’s been holding herself rigid for days and finally let go.
The longer we stand there, the more it stops feeling like an embrace and starts feeling like gravity—inevitable, anchoring.
Finally, she pulls back slightly, looking at me with a soft, sad smile. “I don’t know what to say, Cole. But I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad too,” I whisper, taking her hand in mine. “And I want to be here, Kenna. For you. For Cohen.”
She nods, her fingers tightening around mine. “We’ll figure it out, okay? One step at a time.”
I look into her eyes, and for the first time, I feel a sense of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, we can make it through this.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice steady now. “One step at a time.”
But I don’t let go of her hand. I step closer instead, my forehead coming to rest against hers.
Her breath mingles with mine as her free hand lifts to my jaw, her fingertips brushing away one last stray tear.
I slide my arm around her waist again and pull her gently back into me, not as a desperate apology this time, but as something quieter—an unspoken promise.
She exhales, slow and uneven, and leans into my chest like she’s been waiting years to do it again.
I press a lingering kiss to her hairline, and she sighs against me, her fingers curling into the back of my shirt.
We stay like that, breathing the same air, holding on not because we’re breaking—but because we finally don’t have to.