SEAL’s Love Recon

Chapter One

Bella

I never feel more alive than when I ’ m nearly dead.

I should clarify. When I ’ m nearly dead from an all-out race in the pool.

The cheering of the crowd – muffled one second, then deafening the next – rises and falls with my body. Each time I break the surface of the water and draw in a life-sustaining breath, I can hear it, only to have it dimmed the next moment as I push harder and harder toward the finish.

My lungs feel like they ’ re about to burst and my heart pounds like a drum. I feed off the burn of the lactic acid running through every muscle in my body as they are pushed to their limit.

Swimming comes naturally to me; my parents used to joke that I was born with fins.

Now, at 21, I ’ m on the verge of breaking records.

I forcefully drive my last stroke into the electronic timing system on the wall, only leading the competitor in the lane next to me by a few seconds. I immediately turn to the huge scoreboard to see if I got that elusive record I ’ ve been obsessively shooting for.

Dang, so close… yet so far.

I ’ m completely drained. All I can do is pull myself up onto the pool deck and sit on the edge for just a moment, catching my breath, savoring the incredible feeling of my lungs finally getting fed the oxygen they crave after being pushed to the limit.

It ’ s a packed house, with the bleachers full of college students and the competitors' friends and family members.

Since it ’ s the first meet of the season, I’m not surprised with the turnout. It always draws a big crowd, with students eager and excited to get back into college life.

But, as I stand and scan the bleachers, I don ’ t see the one special face I ’ m looking for.

My fianc é , Cole Jensen, isn ’ t among his friends who are pressed against the railing in the front row. He ’ s on the men ’ s water polo team, and those guys are always at our swim meets supporting us. We show them the same support at their matches.

It ’ s strange since he always comes to my meets and said he was coming. I knew my mom couldn ’ t be here today because of a work trip, but not much keeps her from an opportunity to cheer for me and shake that damn cowbell she loves to bring. No shame.

I try not to worry about where Cole might be as my team envelops me. Everyone is high-fiving, fist-bumping, and complimenting my time. My coach is barely able to work his way through.

“ Keep that up,” he says with a nod toward the time clock board, “ and you ’ re going to break the national record. It ’ s early in the season, but the Olympic trials would not be a pipe dream, Bella.”

I laugh, still shaky from the exertion.

“ That would be a dream come true,” I say as I pull my swim cap off and wipe my towel across my face.

“ You have the talent and the drive. Don ’ t give up. Don ’ t ever, ever give up,” he says firmly as he pumps his fist. Then he adds, “ You know I got famous for that line.”

“ Wow, Coach, stealing credit from the legendary Jim Valvano!” I laugh and shake my head. “ Nice try, though.”

I love his sense of humor. It levels out the many days that he makes me hate him. With the brutal twice-a-day practices and weight training in between, the whole team has a love-hate relationship with him.

He gives me a wink as he turns his attention back to the following line-up, but my mind is spinning with what he just said.

I ’ ve been at UCLA for three years and still have a few more to go because of my major. My dream is to become a physical therapist – and that requires a master ’ s degree, but who ’ s to say I can ’ t put that on the back burner for a while if I were to qualify for the Olympic team to focus on training? The advantage of pursuing a career in healthcare is that the industry will always be necessary and relevant, and positions will always be available, even if I put it on hold for a bit.

“ Quite a compliment, ” says Jenna, a friendly rival on our team who swims in many of the same events I do. “ Can ’ t argue with your times… I always seem to be chasing you!”

“ Thanks,” I tell her. “ Not going to bet the farm on it, though. I swim because I love it. Anything else that happens is just extra.”

I really do mean what I tell her.

I grew up swimming when I lived in San Francisco. Then, after my father, a police officer, was killed in the line of duty, my mother moved us to San Diego, where I naturally joined the high school swim team.

It was largely thanks to my performance on that team – good grades helped, of course – that landed me the scholarship I needed to attend UCLA. I ’ ve stayed focused on my training ever since.

I typically don’t do anything half-assed.

But there ’ s more to my hesitation of making swimming my complete focus, other than my education and career goals.

The shining little stone on my finger reminds me of that. Well, at the moment, it ’ s in my locker. Obviously, racing with my ring on would not be wise. I ’ m so proud of it and hate to take it off ever since Cole proposed to me at the beginning of the summer.

It was such a beautiful moment for the two of us. He had taken me to one of the little seafood shacks along the beach for lunch, and then we spent most of the late afternoon surfing. The waves were near perfect that day until they suddenly went flat.

We were back near the shore, straddling our boards and waiting to see if the waves would get a second wind. I was appreciating the front end of what was going to be a spectacular sunset .

The sunsets here never get old, but Cole has always been more of a sunrise kind of guy. Me, not so much. I’m usually face down in a pool when the sun is rising, often having a one-sided conversation with my buddy, the never-ending black line beneath me. The black line never talks back and always keeps your secrets. I can always count on my trusty black line.

Cole paddled over to me on his surfboard.

“ Hey,” he said.

“ Hey,” I replied with a laugh.

“ Can I ask you something?”

“ Obviously.”

“ Will you marry me?”

I laughed again. We had been talking off and on about marriage for a little while, and at the time, I ’ d thought he was just asking me theoretically. But when he didn ’ t laugh, I stopped.

“ Wait a second, are you –”

I didn ’ t finish the question as I watched him unzip the pocket of his board shorts and pull out what looked like a Ziploc bag. Except it was rigged with a float bobber, just in case, I guess. Inside the plastic bag was a tiny pouch.

I gasped as he reached for me, pulling my board closer to his.

“ Bella, I love you,” he told me. “ And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know this isn ’ t conventional, but since when am I ever?”

“ Yes!” I ’ d cried, throwing my arms around his neck and nearly knocking us both from our boards. He clutched the ring tightly before steadying us and slipping it onto my finger.

“ Don ’ t worry, I ’ m not going to surf with this thing, then drop it at the last second,” he told me.

“ You ’ re crazy, you know that?”

“ Crazy in love with you.”

We unleashed from our boards and let what was left of the tiny waves carry them the short distance to the shore. The water was so calm, almost like glass. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, and locked eyes with my future husband.

“I’m pretty freakin’ crazy for you, too,” I said.

His mouth met mine, the taste of his salty lips the only thing I craved in that moment. And suddenly, it was just the two of us in our own little sliver of paradise, with the sun beginning its descent over the horizon.

Cole has always turned me on, not just physically but on every level, and we are just so well-matched. In a word: simpatico.

Our kisses became hungrier, warm tongues swirling together, and as he gently bit my lower lip, I knew I was finished. A groan escaped my throat, and I felt his arousal against me, making me wrap my legs tighter around his back.

His hands moved from holding my upper thighs to gripping my ass, with his fingers moving just under the edge of my bikini bottoms. I glanced to the shore, relieved that we had privacy since other surfers had departed when the waves died.

The buoyancy of the water and the gentle push and pull of the calm swells seemed to be beckoning our bodies to follow their lead. Cole lowered his mouth to my breast and nibbled at my hard nipple through my bikini top, but I needed more. I moved the triangle of fabric to the side and moaned with relief as he sucked my nipple, grazing it with his teeth with the perfect amount of friction.

I could feel his massive hard-on against me as the rise and fall of the ocean encouraged me to grind in sync against him as he gave my other breast equal attention. I reached down between us to pull the velcro of his board shorts open and release his full length. He groaned his approval, and I felt his hands move even lower to reach up from underneath me and gently separate my lips so that I was fully open for him.

Considering he was supporting me in the water, I was more than happy to navigate things. I wrapped my hand around his thickness and raised myself up just enough to line things up and guide him to my opening. As I lowered myself onto him, and our eyes locked, we both sighed with pleasure as, inch by inch, I fully sheathed myself on him. Feeling myself stretch to accommodate him as he fully embedded himself in me was ecstasy I can’t describe. I paused for a moment, with him deep inside me, to just enjoy the feeling of being joined as one.

What followed was a slow, special, and unique sexual experience unlike any we’d had before. There was no vigorous thrusting or animalistic desire… it was an intimate and emotional connection in an extraordinary moment. Despite it technically being public, it felt very private.

We were completely tuned in to each other and nature. We felt things we’d never taken the time to feel and experience. It was a physical exercise in self-control, but a total body expression of vulnerability and sharing ourselves with each other.

I had fully wrapped myself around him, and my face was buried in his neck as he thrust slowly and deeply inside me, my back arching as I rubbed my hot spot into him, willing him to go even deeper.

We finished together, waves of warmth cascading over me, his orgasm equally profound. We shared groans of pleasure and whispers of love in an experience I will never forget.

I joked with Cole later that night that the steamy part of our epic engagement was “highly classified.” I say “joked” because it went without saying with him. He’s even more private and modest than I am.

Harley, my cousin and best friend, often refers to me as Miss Conservative or Miss Fuddy Duddy, and even though she’d probably be proud of me for doing something out of the ordinary and risky, like having sex in the ocean, this was Cole’s and my secret to share.

Some things are meant to remain a mystery.

Like couples and their bathroom habits — I just don’t get that. I mean, I know it’s a sign of being totally comfortable with your mate, but I have zero intention of even peeing with the bathroom door open when Cole and I are married.

Harley, on the other hand, is cut from a different cloth. I don’t know how she is behind closed doors with men, but around me… good Lord. She’ll just let it rip and then, in the most dainty, sweet voice, say “scoosies” (her version of “excuse me).

I’m almost ashamed to admit that I still laugh every time she does it. She keeps me in stitches much of the time. If she’s not driving me crazy, that is. She’s a piece of work — a hot mess — but I love her.

I ’ ve been so proud of my dainty diamond ring ever since his proposal,refusing to take it off except when I ’ m in the pool. It’s not showy or spectacula r, but it’s perfectly suited for me. I have a feeling he ’ d spent precisely as much as he could afford on it. That was just the way Cole did things in his life. Calculated and planned, then executed with excellence.

“ It ’ s insured, babe, and you can always have it fixed if something happens to it,” he told me after I’d insisted for the hundredth time I feared losing or damaging it.

“ Facts,” I replied with a shrug. “ The ring is supposed to be a symbol of our promise, not the promise itself. If something happens to it , we ’ ll fix it.”

“ Earth to Bella! Come in, Bella!”

I laugh as Harley throws her arm around my neck. She ’ s not a student at UCLA, but we’re practically like sisters and she makes a point of coming to the events that I ’ m a part of. I appreciate her support, though there ’ s a part of me that suspects her motivation for being here has more to do with the male athletes walking around in barely-there suits. She ’ s always been boy-crazy.

Harley and I have all kinds of names for the men’s suits — mankinis, banana hammocks, weenie benders, bun huggers — any way you slice it; they don’t leave much to the imagination. Personally, I’m glad we’re starting to see the sleek unitard-type suits that are trending because, again, some things are meant to remain mysterious.

“ What? Sorry,” I laugh as I hug her back. “ I was just looking for Cole.”

“ Where is he?”

“ If I knew that, I wouldn ’ t be looking for him, you dweeb.”

“ Oh, right.”

She laughs, and I scan the faces of his teammates.

“ He was supposed to be here today, but I haven ’ t heard from him since I talked to him on the phone this morning,” I explain as the two of us head back toward the locker rooms.

“ He could have gotten caught up in traffic,” she nonchalantly replies. “ You know how it can get out there.”

“ Right,” I agree, though I ’ m sure my tone reflects my doubts. “ Normally, he ’ d think ahead enough to leave in time to be here, but I guess anything ’ s possible. ”

“ Well , the traffic is thick on campus with classes on the verge of starting; maybe that’s it,” she says. “ I wouldn ’ t worry about it too much. This is the first meet of the year, so maybe he forgot or mixed up the time.”

“ Right,” I say again, though I’m not sold on either of those potential reasons for his absence. It ’ s not like Cole to forget things like this. Small details, sure, but when he knows I have something important coming up, he doesn ’ t just forget.

But I also know Harley is just trying to make me feel better. She doesn ’ t know where Cole is any more than I do.

My phone is in my gym bag, which I immediately pull from my locker and fish through to find it. Pulling it out, I go straight to my messages.

“ Nothing,” I say out loud.

“ What?”

Admittedly, there ’ s a lot of noise in the locker room coming from the other girls. But then, Harley is also on her phone, so she ’ s not really paying attention.

“ I said he hasn ’ t called or texted or anything. Seriously, I wonder what ’ s going on?”

“ Call him.”

She says the words with a shrug, and though it ’ s the simplest solution, I know I won’t be able to hear him in the chaos. Instead, I shoot him a quick text and grab my clothes before slipping into a changing room.

“ You want to go get something to eat?” Harley calls out above the rest of the din. “ Sam ’ s asking. She ’ s getting a group together and wants an estimate on how many.”

She sounds like she ’ s RSVPing for a wedding, not getting friends together for food, I think. But, out loud, I ask, “ Where ’ s everyone going?”

“ Burger Benny ’ s,” she says.

“ I ’ m in,” I tell her, thinking the distraction will do me good. Maybe I can put aside the worry about where Cole is for a while.

I don’t want to go all psycho girlfriend on him. There ’ s being concerned about someone; then there ’ s practically going FBI on them for not coming to a small event as planned.

“ Sweet, me too,” Harley says, and she quickly adds, “ I told her we ’ re coming and will be there in like twenty, so hurry up.”

“ Why did you say twenty minutes?” I laugh. “ That ’ s a stretch even if we left right now. I ’ m not even dressed yet and still have to dry my hair.”

I zip my denim shorts on my way out of the dressing room.

“ Why? Let it dry like that. The beachy look is sexy on you,” she tells me. “ Pairs well with those booty shorts you ’ re wearing,” she laughs.

“ I ’ ll be quick,” I reply as I roll my eyes, grab my hair dryer out of my bag, and head toward the mirror. She ’ s always been the more outgoing, flamboyant one of the two of us, and she has no trouble whatsoever speaking her mind.

“ You putting on makeup, too?” she dryly asks me, and I give her a look.

“ No, Harley, I won ’ t be that high maintenance today,” I tease. “ You ’ re a brunette. You don ’ t know how finicky thick blonde hair can be. Especially after being in the pool.”

“ Which is another reason you shouldn ’ t use heat to dry it.”

I know she ’ s right about that, but I ignore the remark as I put my things back in my gym bag. I have another bag in which I keep my wet stuff. The routine is rote at this point in my life. I could do it in my sleep.

“ Let ’ s take my car,” she says as we leave the swim center. I ’ m still looking at my phone, but I nod anyway. There ’ s a part of me that feels crazy for being so worried about Cole, but considering it ’ s so unlike him to do this, I can ’ t help but worry that something’s wrong. “ Why don ’ t you try calling him now that we ’ re away from all that?” Harley suggests as the two of us slide into her car. “ Ask him where he is so you can stop obsessing over it.”

“ Already on it,” I say as I put my phone to my ear.

It rings, and with each passing second, I expect him to pick up. I ’ m sure once he does, I ’ m going to be filled with such relief that I’ll feel stupid for worrying at all. After all, it has to be a simple explanation.

Of course, when I get his voicemail, I become even more worried.

“ Hey, you weren ’ t at the swim meet, and I haven ’ t heard from you since this morning,” I say when I hear the beep. “ Call me back when you get the chance, okay? I ’ m worried.”

I hang up and turn my attention out the window, but Harley ’ s entirely unbothered by the situation. She ’ s already talking about her latest crush and asking me a million questions about my plans for the coming school year.

“ I don ’ t know how you do it,” she shakes her head. “ Full-time school, your swimming , a fianc é now, and a job? Then there ’ s me over here feeling accomplished if I can manage to shower and put on makeup in the same day.”

I laugh. “ Harley, I wouldn ’ t exactly consider my job anything mind-blowingly important. I work two days a week as a lifeguard.”

“ It ’ s still a job,” she insists. “ Listen, try not to stress about Cole. Just give yourself the freedom to relax and have some fun tonight, yeah?”

“ I ’ ll try,” I tell her with a reassuring nod. I know it won’t be easy to ignore my impulses to keep calling and texting Cole, but I know she ’ s right. The last thing I want is to come off as obsessive or controlling.

I know he ’ ll have a good reason for not being there today, and when I find out what it is, all this stress will seem silly.

Admittedly, once we get to the restaurant, it ’ s a lot easier for me to push my worries aside and have fun. If there ’ s one thing I have to say about our friend Sam, it ’ s that she has a way with people.

As soon as we walk through the door, it ’ s obvious to me why she wanted to know how many were joining. Surrounded by quite a few of our mutual friends, she ’ d practically laid claim to half the restaurant.

The burger joint is smaller than many other venues around, but we all heartily agree that it ’ s the best in all of L.A. when it comes to burgers. It ’ s great to see everyone after the summer break, and we get quite a warm welcome when we reach the table.

“ Did you break the record?” Sam asks me after tipping back her beer. “ I wanted to be there to see you swim because I ’ m pretty sure it ’ s just a matter of time before you do, but then I realized if we ’ re going to be celebrating here, I ’ d better zip over and get a table.”

“ Didn ’ t break the record, but close,” I say. “ What ’ re we celebrating?”

“ Didn ’ t break it yet , she means,” Harley cuts in.

“ You guys are too sweet,” I tell them both. “ But what are we celebrating?”

“ Oh, who cares?” Sam laughs. “ Coming back to school after the summer? I mean, we always hated it when we were kids, but there ’ s something about college life that makes me look forward to the return in the fall.”

“ Pretty sure it has to do with the number of hot guys that show up to a single place,” Harley says, and I roll my eyes.

“ Aren ’ t you and Mark together?” I ask Sam.

“ Nah, broke up in July. I thought I told you, but then I did want to keep it pretty quiet, so I don ’ t remember who all I ’ ve told.”

“ Oh no, what happened?” I ask, unable to hide my concern. But she brushes off my look with a wave of her hand.

“ Don ’ t worry about it, I ’ m fine. And Harley does have a point with all the hot guys around.”

“ Thank you!” Harley laughs, pushing a beer into my hand.

“ He was cheating on me. Swears up and down I ’ m the crazy one,” she says rolling her eyes. “ Classic projection from a narcissist. At least, that ’ s my professional opinion. Granted, I ’ m only two years into my psych major, but I have cheap rates!” and we all laugh.

“ But anyway, how ’ re you and Cole?” Sam asks.

“ Well …” I say, holding up my hand to show her my ring.

She squeals. “ Oh my God! When did this happen? How did I miss it? Bella!”

She ’ s shouting as she speaks, drawing the attention of the rest of the table.

“ He proposed back in June, right at the beginning of the summer,” I tell her, giving her the short, G-rated version of Cole's proposal.

“ You ’ re seriously telling me he went surfing with that in his pocket the entire time? What an idiot!” Jasmine says, her eye roll always louder than it needs to be.

“ What? I think it ’ s sweet,” Harley says, always eager to defend me. “ How many men can come up with something that romantic and creative?”

“ It sure beats the clich é of putting the ring in the bottom of a glass of champagne,” Sam says.

“ Or worse, doing some big public thing that someone puts online,” Tessa, another of our friends, chimes in. “ When Chad proposed to me, he did it on the Kiss Cam at a football game. Everyone says it was the most romantic thing, but I almost turned him down on the spot on principle. He knows how I hate that sort of thing.”

“ Made evident by the fact you two then eloped,” Sam says.

“ You know it! Where ’ s your wedding going to be?” Tessa asks.

“ Oh, I don ’ t know,” I tell her. “ I haven ’ t even begun thinking that far out. I've barely looked at dresses."

“ Does Cole have any opinions on where?” Sam asks.

“ We don ’ t even have an official when ,” I say, hoping to calm the excitement. For as much as I ’ m looking forward to our wedding day, my worry about not being able to reach Cole is starting to wear on me, and I really don ’ t feel like talking about the wedding. “ But I guess once we get that little detail worked out, we can start focusing on where it’ll be. ”

“ What about size… do you know how big the guest list will be?” Tessa asks.

“ I better be on the guest list,” Sam announces.

“ We all better be,” Harley says with a laugh, and I smile, nodding.

I appreciate their enthusiasm, and I haven ’ t even thought far enough ahead to be able to say whether I would want to have a big or small wedding. Cole and I just wanted to make the commitment to each other and then focus on our schooling and athletics. I didn ’ t intend to dive into all the details for some time yet.

On the same note, however, I do appreciate the outpouring of love and support that I ’ m getting from my friends. I haven’t seen most of them since the end of last semester.

I ’ ve never been one to make a show of what I ’ m doing, so I didn ’ t post the news on Facebook, which is why, I ’ m sure, Sam didn ’ t know about the engagement. It ’ s nice to have a few minutes of attention about the news.

“ Oh, thank goodness, food ’ s here,” Sam announces as the first few trays are brought out. “ I wasn ’ t sure if we should wait until you guys got here to order or how long you ’ d be.”

“ No, no, don ’ t worry about it,” I say, and Harley steals fries from Sam ’ s plate. We both put in our orders, and Harley refills pint glasses from the pitcher in the middle of the table.

“ You okay?” Sam asks me. “ You look, I don ’ t know, worried.”

“ Just haven ’ t been able to get a hold of Cole since this morning,” I tell her.

“ Have you tried calling him?”

“ Went to voicemail.”

“ I ’ m sure he ’ s just doing whatever it is boys do,” Tessa says, trying to be helpful. “ So he wasn ’ t at the meet?”

“ No, and he said he would be, which is why I ’ m worried.”

“ Well, I'd be worried, too,” Sam says. “ It ’ s not like it ’ s uncalled for if you haven ’ t heard from him all day and you ’ re worried.”

“ I just don ’ t want to seem crazy,” I say.

“ It ’ s not crazy,” Sam replies with a level of conviction that surprises me. “ It ’ s justifiable worry.”

“ What ’ re we talking about?” Harley asks as she shows back up after going to the restroom.

“ Cole ’ s gone missing,” Sam says.

“ You ’ re still worried about him?” Harley asks, rolling her eyes. “ Come on, Bella, since when have you been all freaked out about what your man is doing?”

“ Considering he and I have been together since we were sophomores in high school, I ’ d say I ’ ve been the same toward him as always,” I reply.

“ And you don ’ t freak out when you can ’ t get a hold of him,” she says. “ Now drink your beer and relax.”

The conversation among all of us blends into a singular, loud cacophony of noise, and for a while, I forget about my worry and enjoy the food and my friends.

After burning off what I ’ d consumed earlier in the day and during the swim meet, I was already starting to feel the effects of the one beer.

Harley often teases me that I ’ m a lightweight, and I have to remind her that I ’ m on an athletic scholarship. There are certain expectations to keep the partying to a minimum. I don’t see it as a detractor at all. I love my friends and what I ’ m working toward in school. My swimming is just a bonus on top of that and gives me that much more fulfillment.

Overall,life is good.

I don ’ t realize just how long we ’ ve been there until Sam looks at her phone and audibly cries out.

“ My God! It ’ s almost eight!” she says. “ I ’ ve got to get going!”

“ Is it really?” I ask, almost in disbelief. I pick up my phone and see the time for myself, and my heart leaps into my throat as I swear louder than I meant.

“ What ’ s wrong?” Harley asks, clearly concerned.

“ Cole tried to call me about twenty minutes ago, but I didn’t hear my phone. I ’ ll be right back.”

I know it’ll be far too loud inside the restaurant to hear, so I step outside into the cool evening air.

He picks up on the third ring.

“ Cole! Where have you been? What ’ s going on? I ’ ve been worried about you,” I say intensely as the questions fly out of my mouth faster than he ’ s able to answer. “ You said you were going to be at the meet.”

“ Bella, ” he interrupts before I can continue with my rapid-fire line of questioning. There ’ s something in his tone that makes my blood run cold. I can hear in his voice that there ’ s something wrong. He ’ s serious, too serious.

“ What?”

I wait for an answer, but there ’ s a long pause. My mind immediately starts going to every worst-case scenario I can envision, though when he does tell me, I ’ m still caught entirely off guard.

“ Bella, ” he says. “ My dad was killed today.”

Immediately, all the same emotions I ’ d felt when I ’ d heard that my own father had been killed came flooding back to me. I feel sick to my stomach and incredibly guilty over the fact that I ’ ve been out having fun with my friends while he ’ s going through this.

Cole ’ s father has been deployed for the past several months. I don ’ t know specifically where he is, just that he ’ s in the Middle East fighting the war somewhere in Afghanistan.

Logically, I knew that – just like my father – Cole ’ s father was in danger simply because he ’ s a soldier. More specifically, Special Forces. They live under threat almost daily.

But I didn ’ t know he was in that kind of immediate danger. And hearing this news, I don ’ t even know what to say.

“ Oh, Cole,” I manage.

“ My mom and brothers are here,” he says. I wonder where here is, but he continues before I can ask. “ I assume you must be out with your friends, right?”

“ Yeah, we ’ re at Benny ’ s,” I say, and he cuts in again.

“ Okay, give me a call tomorrow when you can. I ’ ve got to go.”

The guilt comes back. I want to be there with him and be supportive.. “ Cole, I –” I start to say, but I pause. I just want to get my car and go to comfort him. But deep down, I know he needs to be with his family right now. It ’ s too raw.

“ I love you,” he tells me.

“ I love you, too,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “ I ’ m so sorry, Cole.”

“ Thank you,” he says and hangs up.