29. Cole
Chapter 29
Cole
T he Boston loss still stung. One goal in the third, no assists, and three penalties — two of them Xavi’s. I hadn’t played like myself, none of us had. Xavi spent more time in the box than on the ice, and Colton kept trying to rally us with fake smiles that didn’t touch his eyes until that broke and he started barking out orders instead. We were all unraveling.
So instead of going home after the flight back, I went somewhere else.
Her address was easy enough to get. Colton had given it to me without even bothering to ask why. He already knew. I had a handful of ideas I could run by her, and maybe Colton was just hoping I could do what he and Xavi couldn’t.
Get her back on our side.
I parked a few spots down in my Escalade, engine still running, the radio off. I scanned the apartments through my windscreen until I found the one labeled with her number, followed it up one story, and caught sight of something moving in the window.
Annie.
She was pacing, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders in messy waves that looked like she hadn’t brushed them in weeks, an oversized shirt hanging limply around her frame. I couldn’t see her lower half, but she was gesticulating wildly, her phone up to her ear. She moved like she was furious.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I just sat there for a moment and watched, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. I hadn’t seen her in over a month, and there she was, so close that all I needed to do was walk across the street.
I killed the engine and got out, walking across the pavement with my eyes glued to the window. She wasn’t paying a lick of attention, and I climbed the concrete steps up to her door with careful, quiet strides.
But the closer I got, the clearer her voice became.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying I needed time and you’ve given me none!” Her voice cracked with anger, cutting through the door of her apartment. “I’m handling it. I just started taking the meds the doctor gave me. I can’t go back to work until they start to kick in, you know that. Mom dealt with it too, with me. Did you tell her she wasn’t trying?”
I froze outside the door.
“Oh, fuck you. I didn’t ask for this to happen,” she hissed. “But it did, and now I have to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do next, and instead of supporting me like a father should , you’re threatening me. I can’t pay my rent, Dad. I need access.”
My stomach turned.
Mom dealt with it too, with me.
I didn’t ask for this to happen.
“Dad. Please. How am I supposed to do this without help?” she croaked. “How am I supposed to take care of?—”
I couldn’t breathe. My throat closed in. My head spun with questions
“…You know what? No. Don’t. Don’t call back if all you’re going to do is remind me how disappointed you are.”
The hollow thud of something hitting the floor leaked through the door, followed by the sound of ragged sobs, and I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.
I knocked on the door frantically, trying the door handle but finding it locked. My stomach twisted as I imagined her inside, staring at the door in horror, worried it was Elliot or her dad, and I had to say something. “Annie,” I called out. “Annie, it’s me. It’s Cole.”
There was a beat of silence so long that I thought she wasn’t going to let me in.
“Annie,” I said again, trying to keep my voice even, but my thoughts were too loud. I knew what this was, knew it deep in my bones, even if I couldn’t admit the word to myself yet. I couldn’t leave her with this. “Darling, please, open the door.”
The faint sound of sniffling and shuffling on hardwood was barely audible over my breathing, but the deadbolt clicked.
The door creaked open a couple of inches, then swung wider, and there she was — barefoot, in my pajama pants that I hadn’t even realized had gone missing, her oversized shirt a little damp around the collar. Her hands shook, her eyes were swollen and damp with fresh tears, and the way she looked at me was like she wasn’t quite believing that I existed in the first place.
“Annie,” I croaked.
She didn’t say a word. Just fell forward into me.
I caught her immediately, my arms locking around her as her body collapsed into mine. Her head pressed into my chest, muffled sobs and gasps hitting my abs, and I could tell she wasn’t holding them back at all. There was no pretending right now. Just raw, broken sounds as I wrapped her up into me and kept her tucked into me, both of us anchored on the threshold of her apartment.
My pulse thundered, my heart hammering so hard against my ribs that I was worried it was punching her in the face.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured shakily, one hand stroking the back of her head, the other wrapped tight enough around her shoulders that I was sure I could keep her from disappearing. “I’ve got you.”
She didn’t lift her head.
Just cried harder.
I walked her backward into her apartment, kicking the door shut haphazardly, my gaze sweeping over the space and the mess and the box she’d confined herself to for god knows how long now. We definitely hadn’t been the only ones suffering.
“How much did you hear?” she choked out, the words separated by gasps for air.
I exhaled slowly, weighing my options. I could lie. I could let her tell me on her own. But she needed help, and if she couldn’t tell me herself, I needed to make it clear that I was fully capable of putting puzzle pieces together. “Enough,” I answered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She went still in my arms, only her little choked gasps making her twitch.
I pulled back just enough to lift her head from my chest, my gaze meeting hers. I cupped her face in my hands, trying to steady myself enough for the words that needed to come out. “Annie,” I said softly, my voice cracking despite my efforts. “Darling, are you… are you pregnant?”
She hesitated, tears welling in her eyes and slipping down over her cheeks, then gave the smallest nod, like if she didn’t say it aloud it wouldn’t be real.
I lost my breath. I thought I’d given myself enough time to prepare for that, but I hadn’t. She was pregnant. Pregnant . Something I’d wanted for years , and Jenny had refused, said we couldn’t until I retired from the NHL. It had shattered me all over again when she’d cheated on me and gotten with another player and posted online that she was pregnant a year later.
I had to keep myself stable right now.
Annie’s eyes squeezed shut, the tears flowing too fast, her breathing too broken. Shit, I’d taken too long to reply. “Hey, hey, look at me,” I rasped, brushing my thumbs over her cheeks and wiping away the tears. “It’s okay. I mean that. It’s okay. ”
“How can it be okay?” she croaked. “It’s a fucking disaster.”
“No, it’s not.” I leaned back against the wall, tucking her into me but keeping my hold on her cheeks firm. “You’re not alone. Do you understand me? You’re not alone, Annie, I’m not going to let you be alone for this.”
“I don’t even know whose it is.” Her voice broke violently as she leaned into me, her forearms resting against my chest.
My heart broke for her, but I couldn’t help but ask. “How far along?”
“Seven weeks.” Her fingers dug into my shirt.
“Then it’s definitely one of ours,” I said softly, a small grin pulling my lips up. “I don’t care whose. Neither will they. We can figure it out together.”
She tried to say something, but her lower lip wobbled too hard to form words. I pressed my forehead to hers, eyes shut, trying to ground us both.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered. “I’m not.”
I didn’t plan it, didn’t make some grand move or time it perfectly. She was crying, trembling, pressed against me like I was the only solid thing in her universe right now, and I couldn’t help it.
I tilted my head, brushed my thumb across her cheek, and kissed her. Just once, gentle, careful, the kind of kiss you give when you’re not even sure you’re allowed to anymore.
When I pulled back, her eyes were wide, her lips parted. She didn’t move.
“I…” I started, about to apologize, trying to find the right words if she was upset with me for trying after telling Xavi it was over?—
Her hands moved up my chest, over my shoulders, and then her whole weight was on me again as she surged up and kissed me like the last month and a half hadn’t happened, like nothing had changed.
I wrapped my arms around her tight, one hand buried in her hair as her mouth opened to me with a low, breathy sound that made my head spin. God, I missed this. Missed her.
But even as she kissed me deeper, even as my fingers dug into her back like I couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go, a pressure built in my chest. It pushed, clawed, needing to get out. I knew what it was, knew it too well.
Tell her. Just say it.
I tried to swallow it down. We weren’t there, we hadn’t been together long, even if you included the last month and a half. But it didn’t matter. It was already true.
I broke the kiss, my breathing ragged, my forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” I said first, knowing she wouldn’t understand why I was saying it but needing to put it before anything else, needing her to know that I didn’t want to scare her off with this but I needed to say it. “I love you.”
She froze. Her lashes fluttered, her lips parted. “What?”
“I love you,” I said again, my voice a little firmer. “I know that’s insane. I do. I wanted to wait to say it, wanted to make sure it wasn’t just the way you laugh or the way you look in my clothes at midnight in a hotel room or the way you tease the shit out of Colton with me and Xavi. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just how much I missed you. But it’s not any one thing, darling, it’s you. It’s all of you.”
Her eyes watered again, but not with panic this time — it was something else. Something so intense it almost undid me.
“Cole,” she whispered, a thousand words hidden in just my name alone. “That’s really fast.”
“I don’t care,” I murmured. “I’ve done the long thing. I’ve done the ‘wait until it’s safe’ thing. I was married for five fucking years, Annie, and I didn’t feel half of this. I’m old enough to know when it’s real, and this? You? You’re it.”
She leaned forward, her breath catching as she rested her forehead against my collarbone, relaxing into me like the weight of it all had finally shifted off her shoulders a bit.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I said softly. “Just come home with me. Please.”
“What if they’re not happy?” she whispered.
“They will be. I promise you.”
“I might throw up in your car,” she added. “I’ve got really bad nausea, like, all the time.”
“Oh, no, what a terrible shame that plastic bags haven’t been invented yet,” I teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I don’t care, Annie. You clearly need out of this place.”
She nodded into me, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I held her to me as I slipped my phone from my pocket, typing out the fastest text I could to Colton.
Me: Got her. Coming home. Make sure Xavi is sober ASAP.