Chapter 12 Cole #2
“Can you… sit with me?” he asked. Then, rushed, fragile, “You don’t have to. And I don’t need you to—I’m not using you. I—”
I stepped back in before he could spiral.
Cupped his chin gently, thumb warm against his jaw until he looked at me.
“I’m falling for you, Morgan,” I said. “Both of you.” His breath caught.
“I’m here as your friend. A close one, I hope.
And as someone who knows you’re the kind of man who would never use another person for anything. ”
He held my gaze, eyes shining while Gabbi slept on between us, small and perfect, then he smiled, and we might have talked more, but a knock interrupted the moment.
Morgan stiffened and he shifted Gabbi higher, instinctive, protective.
“That’ll be them,” he said.
Alex opened the door and stepped aside. The grandparents came in together, moving carefully, as though they were entering a space they weren’t sure they were allowed to occupy.
They were… older than I’d expected. Well-dressed without being flashy. Guarded. The grandmother’s expression was guarded. The grandfather’s hand rested briefly at the small of his wife’s back before he dropped it, as if reminding them both to keep hold of themselves.
“Morgan,” the grandmother said after a beat, and threw him a kind smile.
“I’m Margaret Hale. This is my husband, Edward.
” Her voice was controlled, practiced. The kind of woman who had chaired charity committees and buried grief without letting it show.
They reminded me of my parents, only stiffer and more formal.
I stood and shook their hands. “Cole,” I said, and then sat down again.
Edward inclined his head, brief and stiff, and their gazes fixed on Gabbi.
Then—to me.
“We didn’t bring our lawyer,” Margaret said almost immediately. “If Mr.… if Cole is… we weren’t sure if that was… expected.” Her eyes flicked to me again, assessing.
Morgan’s shoulders drew back. “Cole isn’t my lawyer,” he said. Calm. Firm. “He’s my… boyfriend,” Morgan said and glanced at me. A smile tugged at my mouth before I could stop it. Morgan’s lips curved too, tentative but real. Boyfriend? Yeah. That sounded right.
Margaret pursed her lips. For a split second, my body went rigid, bracing—waiting for it. The anti-queer rant. The judgment. The dismissal.
“All right,” she said. She looked back at Gabbi and swallowed. “We wanted to ask… we’d like to keep in contact if you’re willing. Photos, perhaps. Updates.”
Morgan blinked. “You don’t want to… see her?”
It was Edward who shook his head.
“Annie made us promise that we wouldn’t be in her child’s life. Said our life would destroy Gabriella the same way that she thought we’d… look, we made so many mistakes…” His jaw tightened.
Morgan’s breath hitched, suddenly angry. “You knew she was pregnant? Why was she in that bedsit? Why didn’t you do something?”
Margaret’s composure was shattered. She pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes filling.
“We only found out she’d had a daughter a day before she passed,” she said, voice breaking.
“We tried to help, but we were starting legal proceedings to step in, even though she assured us you were coming home. We tried to contact you, but you were traveling, and we weren’t quick enough to get something in place, and then it was too much.
” She stopped and glanced at Edward for help.
“She said she was starting over,” he carried on where she’d left off.
“She said her partner was coming home from the army, told us about you, and she built this world that made us believe she’d made a fresh start.
We gave her a little money.” Edward looked away.
“Which she clearly used to buy the drugs that killed her.” Silence fell heavily in the room.
“It’s our fault,” he finished. “All of it.”
“I sent home money as well,” I said, and something unknotted in my chest. “I sent as much as I could. I didn’t know.”
Edward reached blindly for Margaret’s hand and tugged her close.
The grief was real. “We had someone in place, watching, keeping their distance, but when he reported back, he said she was… that she’d died.
By the time we heard, Gabbi was gone with you, and we didn’t know what to do, but if she loved you, then… ”
“We weren’t in love,” Morgan murmured, “it was one time, it was… I’ll never say it was wrong, because it gifted me with the most amazing part of my life, but we were just friends for a few years when I was on leave.
She worked part-time at a coffee shop I went to, and…
it was just once.” Morgan held Gabbi, staring at the space between them as if the ground had shifted under his feet.
I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“We’d like to set up a trust for her. For her education,” Margaret said, “if you’ll allow us.”
Morgan was silent for a long moment then he shifted beside me—not away, not back—just settling. Then he seemed to make a decision. He stood and held Gabbi out to Margaret.
“Would you like to hold her?”
Margaret startled, hands lifting and then hovering, unsure. “Oh—I—are you certain?”
Morgan nodded once. “Yes.”
She took Gabbi as if she were something fragile, awkward at first, then steadier as Gabbi sighed in her sleep and burrowed closer. Margaret stared down at her, her composure cracking completely. “Oh,” she whispered. “Hello, sweetheart.” Her voice broke. “I love her already.”
Edward stepped closer, his hand coming to rest on Margaret’s shoulder as he looked down at his granddaughter, eyes wet and unguarded. In the end, it was Edward who spoke.
“We can fund whatever you need next,” he said gruffly. “Do you have somewhere to live? Are you okay here? Do you need doctors?”
Morgan’s hand found mine. He squeezed once. Grounding himself. Then he shook his head.
“Thank you. If Gabbi needs anything, then I will ask, I promise. She will always come first with me, and I would never turn down help for her.” He shot me a glance.
“But we’re okay right now,” he said quietly, and I think he was talking to me, too.
“She’ll know who you are, though. You’ll always be Gabbi’s grandparents.
And I know there’s a whole family she could be part of, and I don’t have a family really, so I want that for her.
” He lifted his chin. “But, she’s my daughter, and she’s staying with me. ”
Margaret didn’t argue. She just nodded, tears slipping free. “Of course,” she said.
Edward took his turn holding Gabbi, who was waking from her sleep. She blinked up at him, unfocused and solemn, then yawned, her mouth a perfect little O.
“Oh,” Edward breathed, startled, as if he hadn’t expected her to look back. “Hello there, sweetheart. You look just like your mother.” He glanced at Morgan, uncertain. “I mean—”
“It’s okay,” Morgan said.
Gabbi made a slight sound, something between a sigh and a complaint, and Edward rocked her, awkward but careful. “She’s beautiful,” he said, eyes shining. “We—we missed so much with Annie because we were so wrong about everything.”
Margaret hovered close, one finger offered. Gabbi’s tiny fist closed around it, a firm grip for someone so small.
Margaret laughed through tears. “Oh. She’s got opinions,” she murmured.
Gabbi squawked, then settled again, cheek pressed to Edward’s chest.
After a few minutes, Edward reluctantly passed her back. “Thank you,” he said to Morgan, voice thick. “For letting us hold her.”
“You’re her grandparents.”
“If we…” Edward squared his shoulders. “If we think she’s in danger, or you can’t provide or—”
“We won’t overstep,” Margaret interrupted with a sharp look at her husband, who was instantly chagrined. “But we’d like to check in, make sure you’re both well and happy, maybe Gabbi might like to know her grandparents. If that is okay?”
“Of course.”
“We’ll come back when you’re ready. And we’ll keep in touch if you’ll let us.”
Morgan inclined his head. “Yes. I think… that would be good.”
They didn’t linger. Coats gathered, quiet goodbyes said. At the door, Margaret paused once more, turning back.
“She’s loved,” she said.
“She is,” Morgan replied.
“And we’d like to get to know you as well, Morgan.”
“I’d like that.”
And then they were gone, the door closing behind them.
Morgan sagged a little as the quiet rushed back in. I stepped in without asking and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into me, just for a second, forehead pressing to my collarbone. Gabbi chose that moment to fuss—a little protest, followed by a wriggle that meant only one thing.
Morgan huffed out a breath that was half laugh, half relief. “Okay,” he murmured. “Yep. That’s a feed. And probably a diaper change.”
Back to normal.
“Boyfriends, eh?” I asked lightly.
He wrinkled his nose, then smiled, shy and honest. “It sounded right.”
I kissed him, quick and sure, even as Gabbi complained louder between us.
Yeah. It sounded perfect.