Chapter 22 – Cole-Present
Chapter Twenty-Two
FATHER FIGURE IT OUT
COLE-PRESENT
The house feels too quiet. Too still. I stand in the middle of Kenna’s living room, my hand frozen mid-motion as I look down at the space where, just hours ago, everything felt...normal. Where everything felt right. Where I felt like I belonged. Now, the silence is crushing.
My son.
I can barely say the words, let alone believe them.
For years, I’ve lived with so many regrets, thinking about the mistakes I made, wishing I had made different choices.
But this...this changes everything. I have a son.
A little boy who, as Kenna said, looks just like me, but is better—better than both of us. I can’t wrap my mind around it.
The room spins as the weight of it hits me. I stumble back toward the couch and collapse, running my hands through my hair. Kenna had to go through all of this alone. For years. She carried our son, raised him by herself while I rotted away behind bars, unable to do a damn thing.
My heart clenches as I imagine it—the loneliness she must’ve felt, raising him without me there.
I should’ve been there. I should’ve been the one to help her.
Instead, I made choices that kept me locked up, thinking about my future, but never about the real consequences of those decisions—the consequences that Kenna bore alone.
I can’t breathe.
I stand up and pace the room. The house feels too small now, like it’s suffocating me. The walls are too close. I need to get out. I need to move. I need to do something, anything to escape this gnawing feeling of regret and confusion.
I grab my jacket and storm out the door, not bothering to think about where I’m going. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, of my son, of Kenna, of everything I’ve missed. I just need to clear my head.
I drive.
I don’t know how long I’ve been driving when I pull into the bar parking lot.
It’s familiar, but it feels foreign now.
This place used to be a haven for me, a place where I could drown my sorrows in beer and forget the world.
Tonight, though, I’m not here to forget. I’m here to talk. I need to talk.
Reuben, Asher, Josh, and Gabriel are there when I walk in. They’re sitting at the bar, laughing and talking like it’s just another Friday night. But it’s not. Not for me. Not anymore.
Reuben’s the first one to look up. He sees me, and I can tell he knows something’s wrong by the way his eyes narrow.
“Cole,” he says cautiously. “You good?”
My mouth opens to speak, but the words fail. I feel like I’m choking on all the emotions swirling inside me. I feel like I’m drowning.
“I’m not good, Reuben,” I say, the words finally breaking free. “I have a son, Reuben. A son.”
There’s a beat of silence before I hear Asher, in his usual laid-back way, mutter, “Shit, man. She told him.”
I turn on him, unable to hold back. “How could you keep this from me? How could you let me go all these years without knowing?”
Reuben stands up slowly, his hands out in a gesture of calm. “Cole, it wasn’t our place to tell you,” he says quietly. “You needed to hear it from Kenna. It was her decision, not ours.”
I’m shaking, and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or disbelief. The room is spinning again, but this time it’s not from alcohol. “You all knew,” I growl. “You knew. Even though you knew about my son, you didn’t tell me about him.”
Asher, who’s usually the first to crack a joke, is unusually quiet. He’s looking down at the bar now, avoiding my gaze. I can feel the tension in the air.
Josh, who’s been silent until now, pipes up. “Man, I knew Cohen was related to Reuben. I didn’t know he was your son.” He shrugs, his face scrunching up in confusion. “It makes sense now, though. I always wondered why Cohen and Kenna were so close.”
His words cut through me like a knife in my chest. Cohen and Kenna have been close all this time, and I’ve been so fucking blind. I’ve missed everything.
Missed birthdays. Missed tears. I missed skinned knees, school photos, and those bedtimes.
All of it—every memory, every milestone—I wasn’t there. Not even on the bad days. Not for the days he cried out for someone to hold him. I wasn’t even a name on his lips.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, but my chest is tight. “How could I not know?” I whisper. “How could I have been so stupid?”
Reuben’s eyes soften. “You weren’t stupid, man. You were just…lost. And that’s not your fault. But Kenna needed to be the one to tell you. She needed to figure out when the right time was.”
I shake my head, biting back the bitterness bubbling up. “When was the right time ?” I snap. “She had years, Reuben. Years to tell me. She let me go on thinking there was nothing left to come back to.”
“Because you told her not to,” Asher cuts in, his voice firmer than usual. He finally meets my eyes. “You think she didn’t try? Cole, she called. She wrote. Hell, she came to visit you that first year. You remember that?”
I freeze. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“You refused her,” Reuben adds quietly. “Every time. You shut her down before she could say a damn word.”
My stomach turns. “No, I—” I stop. I remember. The pain, the shame, the desperate need to disconnect from everything that reminded me of what I lost. And she reminded me of everything.
“You pushed her away,” Asher continues, not unkindly, but not letting me off the hook either. “Every call she made, every time she asked to see you…you told the prison staff to turn her away. You told us to tell her to leave you the hell alone. You made it very clear you didn’t want contact.”
I stumble back a step, like the weight of that truth just landed right on my chest.
Reuben sighs, running a hand over his face. “Man, she tried. Harder than anyone should’ve had to. But after a while, what was she supposed to do? You were in there, acting like she was the reason your life went to shit. Like you didn’t want her anymore.”
“She stopped showing up,” I murmur, remembering the absence but not the reason. “I thought she gave up.”
Gabriel shakes his head slowly. “She didn’t give up, Cole. You made it impossible for her to keep trying. And then when Cohen came along…”
“She protected him,” Reuben finishes. “From all of it. From the pain. From the weight of a father who didn’t want to be reached.”
I stand there for a second, trying to digest this, but it’s not working. It doesn’t make sense. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been the one to see my son grow up. Not Reuben. Not anyone else.
But I wasn’t.
The regret is suffocating.
“Look, man,” Reuben says, his voice steady. “I’m not saying it’s easy. Hell, it’s a hell of a lot harder than any of us expected, but you’ve got to know something about Cohen. He’s a great kid. He’s got a good heart, and Kenna has done an amazing job raising him. You’re lucky to have him, Cole.”
Lucky? I’m supposed to be lucky?
I swallow hard, trying to stop the tears that threaten to spill over.
Josh looks at me with a sad, understanding expression. “I didn’t know, man. But I get it now. Cohen and Kenna—they’re a team. They’ve been a team this whole time.”
“Yeah, and I was just a ghost to them,” I mutter. “Some story Kenna probably avoided telling him until she had no choice.”
Reuben’s head snaps up. “Don’t do that.”
His voice is sharp. Sharper than I’ve ever heard it, and it stops me in my tracks.
“Don’t you dare stand here and act like Kenna kept your son from you,” he says, standing. “She never lied to Cohen about who his father is. Not once. She’s never pretended you didn’t exist. He knows.”
“Knows what?” I ask, stunned.
“He knows about you, Cole,” Asher jumps in, his voice tight. “He knows his dad had to go away.”
My throat tightens, and my heart feels like it’s splitting open in my chest.
“Kenna didn’t feed him lies,” Reuben adds, quieter now, but no less firm. “She protected him. She told him enough to help him understand. What she never did, though, was badmouth you. Never. Not even when it would’ve been easier.”
I shake my head slowly, overwhelmed. “But I thought she kept me from him. I thought…”
“You thought wrong,” Asher cuts in. “You’re the one assuming she never talked about you to him. She’s been carrying the weight for both of you. Raising that boy with your name in his prayers every damn night.”
Reuben steps forward now. “You know what he told me just a few months ago? He said he wished his dad could see the science fair project he had built. He said, ‘Uncle Reuben, do you think if my dad was here, he’d be proud of me?’”
That breaks me.
It breaks something inside me I didn’t even know was still intact.
I picture him standing in a school gymnasium, maybe holding a posting board with crooked lettering and a half-finished volcano project. His eyes scanning the crowd, hoping to see someone he’s never met but still believes in.
It shatters whatever armor I thought I had left. I sink onto the stool, my hands shaking.
“He wants you, Cole,” Reuben says, his tone softening. “He wanted you this whole time. So don’t you dare twist this into some story where Kenna hid you from him. That girl did everything in her power to ensure that boy knew he was loved. By both of his parents.”
“You still have a choice,” Reuben says, leaning against the bar. “You can keep spiraling about the time you missed…or you can show up for the time you’ve still got.”
That lands hard. Harder than I’m ready for. Maybe that’s the point. I don’t get to be ready. I just have to be there.
I feel my heart shatter a little bit at the thought of them doing it alone.
I take another breath. “I need to go home. I can’t be here right now.”
Reuben doesn’t argue. Instead, he stands and pats me on the back. “You want to crash at my place tonight? You’re not ready to go home, are you?”
I don’t answer right away, but I know the answer. I can’t go home, not yet. Not with this weight on me. I feel like a stranger in my life.
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I can’t go home right now.”