Chapter 24 – Cole-Past
Chapter Twenty-Four
CELL BLOCK LETTERS
COLE-PAST
The first night in the county jail is the worst night of my life.
I’m not sure what I expected—maybe a bigger cell.
The four concrete walls feel like they’re closing in on me.
All I have is an uncomfortably thin cot, a steel toilet, and a tiny window that only allows a small sliver of light.
There’s a kind of oppressive quiet here.
It’s not like I ever thought I’d be in a place like this, but here I am.
Alone. The only sounds are the occasional distant clink of metal, the shuffle of guards walking down the hall, and my own thoughts. My mind races.
I’m scared. I didn’t think I would be, but I am.
I’ve been through a lot in my life. I’ve seen things that would break most people, but this—this is different.
This is real. I’m facing years. Maybe longer.
There’s nothing but this cell and the weight of the world bearing down on me.
I miss my family. I miss my mom. My brother Jeremiah, my little sister Isla—they don’t deserve this.
They didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in my mess.
But it’s not just them I’m thinking about right now.
Kenna.
I don’t know how she’s handling all of this.
How is she doing? She must be hurting, and I can’t even be there for her.
I can’t help her. We were finally growing up.
Making plans for our future, and now I’ve just made it worse.
I want to be there for her. I wanted to show her I can be the man she deserves.
That we can build something together, raise a family, be happy.
But now…now everything’s a mess. I should be there when she needed me.
I wish I could be there to help her through this.
But I’m stuck in this fucking cell, waiting for a trial that could tear apart everything I’ve ever cared about.
I see her face every time I close my eyes. How she looks when she laughs, how her brows crease when she’s trying not to cry, how her lips curl up slightly when she’s lost in thought.
She doesn’t deserve this.
I close my eyes, my fingers tightening around the piece of paper on my lap. I can’t help it. The tears come. I can’t stop them. The frustration, the anger, the guilt, it’s all too much.
But I know I can’t give in. Not now. Not when it matters the most.
I sit up and force myself to focus on the small task at hand. I need to write. Write letters. Tell the people I love that I’m thinking about them. Tell them I’m sorry. Tell them I don’t want to be here. But I am. And I can’t change that.
I reach over and grab the envelope, the pen, and start writing.
I pause before I begin. My hands are already shaking. The paper in front of me is blank, but it’s heavier than any weight I’ve lifted. How do I write to people who are probably ashamed of me now? How do I make them believe in me after this?
Mom,
I don’t know how to say any of this, but I need you to know that I’m so sorry for everything.
For putting you through this. I’m sorry for not being the son you deserve.
For the pain I’ve caused you. I never wanted to hurt you.
You’ve always been there for me, always loved me, even when I didn’t deserve it.
I wish I could go back and change everything.
I wish I could have made better choices, but I didn’t.
I’m so scared, Mom. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. But I need you to be strong for me. I need you to stay strong, for Jere, for Isla, and for yourself.
I love you, and I’m so sorry. Please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault.
Love, Cole
The pen hovers over the paper as I try to breathe.
My chest is tight. Writing to Mom feels like opening a wound I didn’t even know I had.
I picture her in the kitchen, humming, holding a coffee cup between her hands, waiting for news she never wanted to hear.
She always believed in me. And I let her down.
I write my letter to Jeremiah next. He is only a few years younger than I am, and I know he will remember this forever. I hate that he will have to live with the fact that his brother is in prison.
Jere,
It is difficult to know where to begin. I’ve let you down.
I let everyone down, especially you. You’ve been my rock, always looking out for me, and I know I’ve made you carry the weight of my mistakes.
I can’t fix that now. I can’t undo the past, but I’m sorry.
Forgive me for not being the brother you deserved, for all the times I failed you.
You’ve always been there for me, and I’m grateful for that. More than you’ll ever know. I just hope that you can still forgive me.
I’m scared, Jere. I don’t know what’s next. But I need you to know that I love you.
Cole
I picture him reading this letter and wondering why I didn’t say these things when I had the chance. He always looked up to me—even when I didn’t deserve it. And now I’ve become the story parents use to scare their kids straight.
I write my sister Isla a letter, and even though she is only three years old, I want her to know that I love her no matter what.
Isla,
I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. You don’t deserve any of this. I hope you’re okay. I hope you know how much I love you.
You are a strong little girl, Isla. And I know you’ll keep being strong, even when it’s hard. I wish I could be there to watch you grow up, but I will be back before you know it.
I love you, kiddo.
Cole
She probably won’t remember the sound of my voice. And that kills me. I’ll miss her birthdays, her first day of school, all the little moments that make up a life. And by the time I’m out, she might be too grown up to even care.
I write the letter I want to pour the most of my heart into last. The letter to Kenna.
Kenna,
I don’t know where to even begin. There’s so much I need to say to you, but I don’t know if I can get the words right.
I’ve messed up so much in my life, and now…
now I’m paying the price. And you’re paying the price too.
I never wanted you to be part of this, never wanted you to be dragged into my mess.
I love you. God, I love you more than I can even put into words.
I don’t think I ever really knew what love was until I met you.
You’ve always been my light, the one person who could make everything feel okay.
And now, I feel like I’ve ruined that. I’ve ruined us.
I can’t go back and change what happened.
If I had known what this was going to cost, I never would’ve gone to that party. I never would’ve gone to prison. But I can’t change any of that now. All I can do is tell you how much I love you and how sorry I am.
I know this might sound crazy, but if this had never happened—if I hadn’t made those choices—I would’ve asked you to marry me. I would’ve asked you to be mine forever. But now I can’t do that. I can’t ask you to wait for me.
Know that you will always have a piece of my heart, and if you find someone who makes you happy, who loves you the way you deserve to be loved, then I will be okay with that.
I want you to be happy, Kenna. I always have.
And I can’t ask you to wait for me, not when I don’t even know what’s going to happen to me.
Please take care of yourself. You deserve that. You deserve happiness.
Love, Cole
My hand trembles so badly after this one that I have to set the pen down.
My entire body feels hollow. There’s nothing left to give.
Writing her name felt like saying goodbye.
I don’t know whether she’ll forgive me. Hell, I don’t even know if she’ll read it.
But she has to know. She has to know that I still see her when I close my eyes.
That I still dream of the life we almost had.
Once the letters are finished, sealed up, and ready to be sent out in the morning. I can’t stop my hands from shaking as I think about the trial tomorrow. The weight of what I’ve done, the consequences of those actions, is heavy.
The night drags on. The minutes feel like hours. I lay down on the cot, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts a whirlwind of guilt and fear. Tomorrow, my life could change forever. Tomorrow, I’ll find out how much of my future I have left.
I think about Kenna again. I think about how much I wish I could be there for her. I don’t want to leave her like this. I don’t want to let her down. But I’ve already done that.
And tomorrow, when I walk into that courtroom, I won’t just be fighting for myself.
I’ll be facing every person I’ve hurt. Every lie I’ve ever told will be sitting there with them, staring me down.
The shame, the guilt, the wreckage I caused—it’s all going to have a name and a face.
And for once, I won’t get to hide behind excuses or silence.
I’ll have to look them in the eye and own it.
I wake up to the sound of guards moving down the hallway. It’s still early, but I know what today is. The trial. The day everything will either break or heal.
I take a deep breath, trying to push the fear down. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months, and now that it’s here, I feel like I’m not ready for it. But I don’t have a choice. I have to face the consequences of what I’ve done.
The guards come for me, and they lead me down the hall to get dressed. I’m given my suit, a standard one they have in the system for inmates.
I stare at my reflection in the small metal mirror. I barely recognize myself. My eyes look hollow. My skin is pale. The suit doesn’t fit right—it hangs on me like the weight of everything I’ve lost.
When I step out into the waiting area, my mom is there, her face a picture of worry and love. She rushes to me, wraps her arms around me, and whispers, “I love you, Cole. No matter what happens, I love you.”
I try to hold back the tears, but I can’t. “I’m sorry, Mom. I never wanted this for you.”