46. Chapter Forty Six
Chapter Forty Six
Annie
I sit on the bed, the pillow still clutched in my lap, my fingers gripping the fabric tightly. Across from me, Cole leans forward, elbows on his knees, watching me carefully.
I don’t know what to say.
I’m still hurt.
Still upset.
But I understand.
I let out a slow breath, shifting my gaze to the ultrasound still dangling from his fingers. My chest tightens as I stare at it, my emotions still tangled in knots.
“Triplets,” I murmur.
Cole lets out a breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah.”
I shake my head, a humorless laugh escaping me. “I don’t even know how to process that.”
“Me neither,” he admits.
Silence stretches between us, but it’s different now. Less tense .
I shift, hugging the pillow closer to my chest. “I don’t know what I expected you to say when you saw the ultrasound,” I admit quietly. “But I guess I expected something .”
His jaw tightens, and I see the regret flash in his eyes. “I was trying to wrap my head around it.”
I nod, because I get it. I do. I sat at the doctor’s office without a word for fifteen minutes after being told.
“It’s just… I sat there alone, hearing the heartbeat—heartbeats—seeing them for the first time, and you weren’t there. And I couldn’t stop thinking, ‘What if this is how it’s going to be?’ How the hell am I going to raise three kids on my own?”
Cole’s gaze sharpens, his entire body going rigid. “It’s not going to be like that.”
I let out a breath, my fingers tracing absent patterns against the pillow. “I believe… that you don’t want it to be like that.”
“Annie.” He sets the ultrasound aside and kneels on the floor to take my hand. “Annie. It’s not going to be like that. I ignored it for so many years. Ignored the way Robbie was closed off and aloof. I played it off as his personality. Just the way he is. So what, he didn’t have many friends. He didn’t need them.
“But now I see. I see what I did to him. I see that he’s not that person at all. I thought I knew my son, but I didn’t know anything.”
He holds my hand in his, looking at me with pleading eyes. “Annie, I wanted to be there. I should have been there. And I’m sorry.”
I look at him then, really look at him. He’s not making excuses. He’s not deflecting or downplaying how I felt. He’s owning it.
I sigh, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “I get why you had to stay.”
His lips press together, and he watches me for a long moment before exhaling. “I still should’ve told you what was going on.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “You probably should have.”
Cole leans forward slightly. “I don’t want to be that guy, Annie. The one who isn’t there when it matters. I want to be the man who learns from his mistakes. I can’t promise I’ll never screw up again, but I can promise to learn from my mistakes. Robbie’s not the only person who changed when you got here.”
I study him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but there isn’t any. Just quiet determination.
I nod slowly. “Okay.”
He exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but there’s still something in his expression. Something unsettled.
“Alan,” I say, watching him carefully. “What are you going to do?”
Cole drags a hand through his hair, sighing. “I don’t know.”
I hesitate. “Do you want him to be in Robbie’s life?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “I think so,” he admits finally. “But I need to be sure. I need to know he’s really changed.”
I nod, understanding that completely. “And does Robbie know anything?”
Cole shakes his head. “Not yet. He doesn’t even remember him or know anything about him.”
We lapse into silence again, and I realize I don’t feel as angry as I did before. The hurt is still there, but it’s not raw anymore.
I let out a slow breath. “I hate that you weren’t there today.”
“I know,” he says quietly.
“But I understand.”
His gaze flicks to mine, something unreadable passing through his expression.
And in that moment, I know we’ll be okay.
We still have a long way to go, but we’ll be okay.