40. Sydney
The Bobcat creates a loud bang as it crushes Cole’s cabin—my cabin, I guess—with ease. The four walls collapse on top of each other as a cloud of dust puffs into the air.
As I stand next to Cole, it’s not lost on me that on most of the demolition sites I’ve been a part of, there’s generally a sense of excitement in the air, an anticipation and eagerness to construct something even better in place of whatever we’re tearing down. Aside from creating something entirely from scratch, that’s what I love about being an architect: taking something that either doesn’t exist or maybe isn’t functioning anymore and bringing something new to life in its place.
While I am excited for what we’re going to create here, I realize that I feel nothing but reverence in this moment. A quiet admiration and respect for the solace this place has provided for someone I care about very much. For being a comfort to him when he needed it the most. I make a silent vow to make sure this land will provide that same kind of peace and serenity to others.
“Are you okay?” I slip my arm through Cole’s, lightly gripping his forearm.
“Yup,” he says with certainty. There’s no sign of regret or grief in his expression. He’s calm and steady, as always. I squeeze closer to his side, resting my head against his shoulder, acknowledging—and appreciating—what he’s letting go of.
We watch as the cabin gets leveled to nothing more than a large pile of wood and debris, and Neal’s crew starts clearing the rubble.
“Well, should we head back?” Cole asks, turning to face me.
“Sure.” I rise on my tiptoes and plant a peck on his lips, squeezing his arm once more before letting go.
As I climb onto the ATV behind him and scoot forward, I wrap my arms around his middle and lay my head against his back. I can feel the soft thumping of his heart against my ear and I close my eyes, feeling overwhelmed with emotion just like every time I’m close to him lately. It’s become a force that grips my heart so strongly it almost hurts. One that terrifies me and exhilarates me all at once.
I stay wrapped around him like that while he takes us down the path. We pass by the rows of cabins, past the lodge, and come to a stop next to cabin one. Our ‘home sweet home’ until after the grand opening.
“Will you sit with me?” he asks, sliding his fingers through mine as we climb the stairs. He settles onto the newly upgraded porch swing that I’m happy to report doesn’t creak in the slightest.
“Of course,” I murmur, choosing to slide sideways across his lap instead of taking the space next to him.
He wraps an arm around my back, gripping me at my hips, and his other hand comes to rest softly on my thigh.
“I hope you don’t have any regrets,” I say quietly while I run my thumb across his cheek. My stomach feels uneasy as I wait for him to answer, unable to bear the thought that he might. He stares at me intently, taking his time, as if he’s considering more than just his cabin.
“Not one,” he mutters firmly, holding my gaze. “You know, that cabin used to be the only place in the world that I felt whole.”
My chest aches as he continues.
“It was the only place I felt worthy and important. That I felt safe.” He shakes his head ever so slightly. “Well, that’s not true anymore.”
His eyes break from mine as he trails the way his finger tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You make me feel all of those things,” he whispers, bringing his gaze back up to mine. “And so much more.”
I’m overcome with emotion as I touch his cheek. His words stir up a whirlwind of emotions in my chest, and all at once, I feel the urge to put a name to what I know in my soul this is.
“I love you, Cole Fredrickson,” I whisper, just loudly enough for him, and him alone, to hear it. Not even the nearby birds or insects are privy to it.
His eyes flutter closed, and emotion pricks at my eyes as I watch him take it in. I know full well how little he’s heard those words in his life, which makes this moment that much more monumental for both of us.
“I mean it.” I use both hands to tip his face up to mine, staring into his now opened eyes. I need him to hear me—I’m desperate for it. For him to feel this same ache in my chest as I do. “Do you know what an honor it is to love you?”
He inhales a deep breath, locking us in an emotion-laden stare before the slightest of smiles appears.
“If you say so.” He says the words quietly, but I can tell from the way he smiles that he believes the words I just declared. He not only hears it, but he accepts it.
The warmth of his hand leaves my leg as he uses his thumb and forefinger to graze my chin.
“I love you too,” he says just as intently as I did. My heart aches again, but this time there’s a flushing of warmth that comes along with it. Hearing him say those words—to me—does something to me I couldn’t dare put into words.
I drop my head, feeling weak, as if I couldn’t possibly hold any part of myself up any longer, and press my forehead to his chest. His hand slides through my hair, and I feel the faintest pressure of his kiss against the top of my head.
When I’ve regained some strength, I lift my head to find him smiling softly at me.
“What does this mean for us, Cole?” I whisper the question that’s been hanging over both of our heads the past few weeks. After a quiet moment, he lifts his brows along with a shrug.
“I’m open,” he says simply, as if he’s not overly concerned about it.
“I need to go back to my apartment after the grand opening. I’m slated to start another project right away,” I tell him. Although I’m anxious for his reply, I know that whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. What we have between us…it can’t be broken easily, no matter what obstacles we face. That, I’m sure of.
“Then that’s where I’m going too,” he says confidently. I didn’t think it would be possible, but my heart swells even more.
“Do you think my apartment will approve of your chainsaw noise?” I tease.
“We can drop my loud tools off in Longville on the way down,” he says with a grin. “I’ll just bring my small carving tools if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
I get lost in watching the way he looks at me, my mind going over what a future with him will look like, until my phone beeps in my pocket.
Shifting on his lap so I can pull it out, I read the message and huff a laugh.
“Graham wants to know if we are interested in playing a rematch of gin rummy against him and Blair. I guess the lodge is quiet at the moment, and he says he’s in the mood to kick our butts.”
“Let’s do it,” he says with a nod.
He pats my hip, helping me slide off his lap. I follow him off the steps and he bends slightly, pointing to his back.
“Want a ride?”
“Duh,” I say excitedly, using the bench to climb onto his back. I wrap my arms around his neck as his arms grip under my legs, and I note—and adore—the carefree way he takes us to the lodge.