Chapter 5 1,033 days before the breakup
“Have you ever been to the fair before?” I asked as we walked through the gate, hay crunching under my Tecovas.
The cool October air carried the scent of popcorn and funnel cakes—those smells that make your stomach rumble even when you know you’re not really hungry.
“Oh yeah,” Cole nodded. “I used to come every year as a kid.”
“I’ve only been once,” I said, tugging my denim jacket tighter against the chill. “Freshman year. It was only, like, two months into college, and we were still too scared to drink anywhere besides our dorm rooms, so we opted for a wholesome adventure.”
Cole laughed. “Was Chapel Hill that strict? South Carolina was such a party school. I can’t imagine it being any different anywhere else.”
“No, it took a while for me to figure out the whole work hard, play hard thing. Game days were the exception though,” I teased.
“Yeah, yeah.” He smirked, then switched gears. “My parents always said, ‘Rides first, then food.’ You know, to avoid any puking situations. So what should we hit first?”
I glanced around at the bright neon chaos. The rattling roller coasters, the spinning rides, and kids darting between booths were overwhelming but felt familiar and nostalgic. I pointed to a ride where people were soaring in giant swings, their legs flailing as they spun through the air.
“How about that one?”
Cole raised an eyebrow. “Starting with swings, huh? Bold move.”
“What? Look how high they go! I’m easing us in,” I argued.
“You’ve seen nothing yet.”
As the swings lifted us into the air, my hair whipped around my face, the wind rushing past us as Raleigh spun below.
My stomach flipped, but it wasn’t just the ride.
Being there with Cole made me feel like a kid again—safe and carefree.
I liked the version of myself that I was whenever I was with him.
Which, ever since he helped to move me in and asked me if I was single, was as often as we could.
When we stumbled off, both of us laughing and trying to steady ourselves, Cole ran a hand through his windblown hair. “Okay, I’m impressed. That was way more intense than I remember.”
“I thought you talked a big game,” I countered. “What’s next?”
“Food,” Cole declared. “I think we’ve earned it. What’s your favorite? Funnel cake, corn dog, fried Oreos, popcorn?”
“Funnel cake,” I said, not even hesitating. “Definitely funnel cake.”
We wandered over to a stand, and he ordered us one to share. The powdered sugar stuck to my fingers as I tore off a piece, but I didn’t care. The warm, sweet dough melted in my mouth.
Cole tossed the napkin in the trash and gave me this half smirk, like he had something on his mind.
“What’s with the grin?” I teased, flicking my fingers at him and dusting powder across his nose.
He smiled and wiped it off. “My mom makes a mean fried Oreo,” he said. “Well, they’re air fried, but you’d never know the difference. I’ll have her make them for Christmas. You’ve gotta try them.”
He said it so casually, like it was just another plan we’d already made. But Christmas wasn’t casual. Spending the holidays together meant he was thinking ahead, and my stomach flipped.
“You want me to meet your parents?” I asked.
He nodded, no hesitation. “Yeah. My mom’s been bugging me to bring you home since the week we made it official. We’ll figure it out later though. No pressure.”
But I did feel pressure. Not from him exactly but from everything around me.
From my parents, whose storybook meet-cute convinced me I’d “just know” the moment I saw my future husband.
From Elizabeth, who’d been with her high school sweetheart for as long as I can remember.
From Grace, who made love look effortless, like it was supposed to be fun and easy.
From the invisible timeline I’d sketched somewhere between prom night and college graduation.
I wanted to catch up, I wanted to be chosen, and for the first time, I was. But was I ready to let this be real?
“Games,” I said, spotting the booths ahead. “I’m feeling lucky.”
“Oh really? We’ll see about that.”
Just as we reached the ring toss booth, Cole paused, squinting into the crowd. “Hey, isn’t that Lucas?”
I followed his gaze and spotted Lucas and Margo, arm in arm by the dart toss. I waved and shouted his name, and they headed our way.
Lucas gave Cole a casual nod, then turned to me. “Didn’t expect to see you two here.”
“Neither did we! Have you been here long?”
“Long enough to watch Lucas miss every shot at the basketball game,” Margo teased. Then she held up her phone. “Ainsley, would you mind taking a picture of us real quick?”
“Sure!” I angled the phone as they posed, faces turned toward each other with ease, and I snapped a couple photos. When I handed it back, Margo grinned.
“You two should get one,” she said, already lifting her phone.
I looked at Cole, who smiled and shrugged. “Why not?”
His arm slipped around my waist like it belonged there.
It felt so natural that it almost caught me off guard.
A few months ago, I would’ve imagined this night going so much differently, fifth-wheeling with Grace and Savannah.
Now I had Cole. A boyfriend. A real one.
I smiled, briefly wondering if we looked cute, if we looked like we liked each other.
If Cole looked adoringly at me like Lucas did with Margo.
I shoved the thoughts from my head as Margo showed us the photo, and I almost sighed at the sight of us.
We did look good together. We looked like a couple.
As we walked away, Cole pulled out his phone. “All right, so what should my caption be?”
I laughed, but a small part of me was startled by how comfortable he was broadcasting us.
One time in college, my formal date hard-launched me, and I spent half the day wondering if he liked me or just wanted to show off that he’d been invited to a sorority function.
Another, a frat boy I was talking to refused to accept my follow request. I think every woman had experiences like that, had been burned by the dance between public and private affection. But with Cole, it was easy.
“Ready for the grand finale?” he asked, pointing toward the Ferris wheel.
“I’ve been waiting all night,” I replied. And I had been. I buzzed with excitement and the possibility of it all. Because this moment, wasn’t it exactly what I’d been waiting for?
We climbed into the cart, and as we rose above the fairgrounds, Raleigh blurred below us in twinkling lights. Cole stretched his arm along the back of the seat, his body leaning closer.
“You want to know something kind of embarrassing?” I asked.
“You’re afraid of heights?”
“Oh my god, that is so obviously not it.”
He smirked. “Go on, embarrass yourself.”
“When I was younger, I used to think the most romantic thing to ever exist were Ferris wheels.” I paused. “Not the actual ride but the idea of it. Every movie had that scene. The moment. The big gesture. The grand declaration. That’s what a Ferris wheel is.”
“Sounds like the bones of a good story,” Cole said, eyes still on the view.
His response was sweet, but I’d hoped for more.
“I wrote it into a prompt once,” I continued. “Two people meet because they’re stuck at the top of a Ferris wheel together. A classic meet-cute. And they fall for each other right then and there.”
The car rocked slightly as it reached the top, and for a second, everything stilled.
Cole looked at me. “Well, who says that can’t happen now?”
Then he kissed me. It was slow, intentional, familiar, and maybe that was the problem.