15
COLE
I flip through the stack of papers again. I’ve reread them every day this week, practically memorizing each page. The words have made me laugh, smile, cry, and seethe—they speak to me deeply as if I wrote them myself.
Pulling open my desk drawer, I slide the papers into a folder labeled Poems. I lock it. It’s where I keep my most personal things—my birth certificate, some pictures of my childhood, awards, sentimental stuff I don’t want anyone to see.
I glance at the large black box on my desk, my fingers trace over the silver letters. I hope she likes it. The gift is partially to make the news I have to tell Thea today a little easier. I’ve been putting it off and Damian’s been pressuring me.
It’s inevitable. I’ve always known that. We established the rules long ago, even if I don’t agree with them right now. They’re there for a reason—to keep the peace, so there’s little competition between the four of us.
Damian manages this well, keeping us all happy.
But there is some inequality because we all know Damian is in charge. I guess someone has to be. He manages our finances and assets, mostly. Conflicts as well, between us or outsiders.
Damian’s always been skilled at that—managing our emotions. It helps him feel like he’s in control. He didn’t have that growing up, so it’s become a necessity for him as an adult.
Neither of us had a good home life, however Damian admittedly had it worse than me. I may have been overlooked by my family most days, but at least they didn’t beat me black and blue. I shudder at the vivid image of Damian walking into school wearing long sleeve shirts to cover the marks from his stepdad.
Eventually, clothing wasn’t enough to hide the brutality. The bruises on his face should have made someone step in. No one did. So, he had to endure it until he could fight back, although it was years before that happened.
I pull myself from those memories.
Checking my watch, I see it’s almost time for me to bring Thea lunch. She hasn’t been to the house all week, busy with work. I’ve made it a point to take her food every afternoon while she comes to the bakery in the evenings. I’m not sure if the distance makes what I have to do easier or harder.
Damian’s head peeks into my room just as I’m about to head upstairs.
“Hey.” He’s been lying low for the last couple of days. He might have his own shit going on or he could be giving me space to figure out the Thea situation. We’ve all been stressed about it. Even the mention of her in daily conversation seems to make us tense.
She’s a constant reminder that I have something they don’t.
“Hey,” I mutter. I’m not sure there’s much to talk about. We both know he’s doing what he needs to for our family. “I’m heading to the studio. I’m going to ask her to come over after work.”
Damian nods. The question he wants to ask is written all over his face.
“I’m going to tell her, like I said I would.” It comes out sharp. Any other time I might apologize, however, he isn’t getting one from me today.
His eyes meet mine. “I know. Do you need anything?”
More time.That’s what I want to say, although I know it’s not possible. Waiting too long could make the betrayal worse for her. Thea’s invested enough that she might consider the proposition, yet not too invested that this would devastate her.
“Just be your usual self, Damian,” I sigh, running my hand over the scruff along my jaw.
I can tell that he isn’t sure how to take that. The last thing I want is for him to turn into some kind of knight in shining armor once I tell Thea. I don’t know why that’s a fear of mine. He’s never been one to put on a facade. But there’s something about her that makes everything feel different this time.
It’s probably my own insecurities making me feel this way. All I’ve wanted my entire life is someone who chooses me, accepts me, and loves me. I can have that with Thea. She said it herself. She sees me. She may not feel the same once I pop the perfect bubble we’ve been in these last few weeks.
Her rejection is what scares me the most.
“Okay. I can do that.” I think I see defeat in his eyes, although it’s quickly replaced with his usual iciness. “This is how it has to be. The other option…well you know.”
I do know. The alternative isn’t an option. We have too much tied up together and I love my brothers.
“Damian, we’ve been through this before. I know the drill. She’ll either say yes or no. We’ll go from there.”
I pause as I walk past him, wanting to add something else. I’m not sure what exactly. What more can I say or do—I’ve already begged to no avail. I shake my head and walk upstairs.
Who knows, all of this buildup could be for nothing. If it goes badly, we’re back at square one and this was a waste of time. At the end of the day, I have my brothers and that’s the most important thing.
THEA
I’ve spent every day this week in the studio with back-to-back clients. I barely have time to think about anything beyond lingerie, studio setups, and editing photos.
At least tomorrow I’ll have a day to rest. I say that, however my parents are coming to visit and that seems like more work than a back-to-back shoots at the studio.
Cole and I haven’t spent much time together this week, aside from his daily pop-ins to bring me lunch and my evening visits to the bakery for tea. I can barely stay awake during our phone calls after both of us are off of work—I even fell asleep last night while he was telling me about his day.
While I miss spending time with him, the distance has allowed me to avoid telling him about Gavin and to hide the purple bruising on my wrist.
It’s been difficult to hide it from Cassie. Days ago, I thought I’d be able to play it off that I fell in the shower. That was the genius excuse I came up with. But then the bruising appeared and the unmistakable finger marks complicated that plan.
My new solution is wearing long sleeve shirts, effectively turning me into a human sauna. After four days, I can tell Cassie and Cole are both growing suspicious of my sudden warm weather fixation.
I hear Cole’s voice from the waiting area.
All the bending and crouching with my last client, paired with the measly bowl of scrambled eggs I had for breakfast, has me feeling lightheaded. I need to eat something and sit down for a few minutes.
I walk to the front of the studio to meet him. His hands are full of bags and water bottles.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Cole says automatically as I round the corner. However, his face scrunches up when he takes me in. “You feeling alright?”
Cassie appears a second later.
“You don’t look so hot.” The back of her hand finds my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
The shaking and nausea come on suddenly. “I-I just need to eat something.” My blood sugar’s dropped too low.
Cassie puts her arm around my waist. “I’m going to bring her in here.” She guides me back into my room and sets me down on the velvet couch. “Jesus, you’re clammy and your hands are shaking.”
“Hello?” a voice calls out from the waiting area.
“Shit, that’s my client.” Cass looks conflicted. “I have to go. Can you take care of her?”
Cole nods. “Of course.”
“I’ll be in the room next door if she needs anything.” She stands. “Hey, you have to take care of yourself. These packed days take a toll on your body and I need you in tip top shape.” It might sound cold, but this is Cassie’s version of love—tough love.
Cole takes my hands in his. “She’s right, you’re shaking. Did you eat today?”
“Eggs. This morning.” He sits down next to me, handing me a massive bottle of water. I bring it to my lips, pulling long gulps into my mouth.
“Damian had me bring these so that you stay hydrated.” He points to three more bottles, a note is taped to one that says Drink. - Damian.
“Why the hell does he care if I’m drinking enough water?” Since his insistence on having Gavin’s name at game night and my absence from the house this week, I figured we were both pretending the other didn’t exist.
Cole’s silence and blank face make it hard to read him. Something’s up.
“I’m glad he made me bring all four. I told him it was overki—” Cole stops mid sentence, staring at me as I pull more water into my mouth. “What’s that?” His finger slips beneath the hem of my sleeve, tugging it down.
I realize what he’s staring at—my heart stops. The world becomes eerily still as I try to come up with something to tell him about the purple and blue marring my wrist. My brain refuses to cooperate.
Cole pulls my sleeve the rest of the way up my arm and inspects the damage. “Thea, what the hell happened to you? When did this happen?” The look in his pretty eyes edges on violence. He sees the same thing as me, the very clear imprint of finger shaped bruises. “Who did this to you?” The question comes out as a low growl and I watch as his eyes darken as he waits for my answer.
“Cole…it’s fine. I’ve handled it. It’s really not a big deal.” The gentle man I’ve come to know isn’t in the room with us.
That dark hunger has taken over, yet this time it’s not fueled by his desire for me—it’s driven by his desire to protect me. And something about that terrifies me because the man’s eyes I’m staring into is one who’d do terrible things to the person who hurt me.
“Love, this is the last time I’m going to ask. Who the fuck did this to you?” He punctuates every word of the question. I get the distinct feeling that neither Damian nor Sutton have told him about Gavin being in town, otherwise that’s probably the first person he would have thought of.
It’s probably for the best that it comes from me, but God, I wish they had done the hard part for me.
“My ex, Gavin, is in town. He-He’s been trying to convince me to give him another chance. I’ve told him no, but…” My gaze drops, knowing that I’m risking him being upset with me for not telling him sooner. “He cornered me and I tried to leave. He wouldn’t let me.”
Cole’s nostrils flare and I swear I can almost hear his teeth grinding. “When did this happen?”
“Last Sunday,” I whisper, knowing he’s likely going to be upset that I’ve been hiding this for a week.
He curses under his breath. “Is this why we haven’t seen each other all week? You were worried about me finding out about this?”
I meet his gaze and my face twists. “No, I’ve been busy here.” It’s true, although I also know I was relieved to have a packed schedule, so I had an excuse to hide this from him. My eyes fall to my lap as guilt surfaces.
“Has he ever done anything like this before? Has he ever hit you?”
My eyes close. I feel ashamed for being that woman, the one that’s let a man put his hands on her. It’s so fucking embarrassing and weak. “He’s grabbed me once before, right after I left him. But he’s never hit me. Emotional abuse was more his style.”
Cole’s hand brushes over my skin, making me flinch involuntarily. My wrist is still tender. “Hey,” he says in a low, gentle voice. “Look at me.” It takes a second, although I finally do. “I want you to know two things. I won’t hurt you. And I’ll never let him put his hands on you again. Do you understand that? Do you believe me?”
I don’t respond right away. He doesn’t deserve a quick, thoughtless answer. I think back to how he’s treated me in the short time I’ve known him. Then I assess the intense look in his eyes, like he might destroy the world to protect me. I believe him. There’s not one part of me that doubts him.
“Yes. I understand. And yes, I believe you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close.
“You need to eat,” he whispers against my neck.
Cole makes me finish the entire meal he’s brought. While most of the anxiety of this secret I’ve been keeping has faded, there’s still a tiny piece that’s nagging me.
Taking a steadying breath, I turn to him. “Can I ask you a favor?” I don’t wait for him to answer. “Can you not say anything about this around Cassie? I haven’t told her about this time…or the other time it happened. I don’t want her to worry.”
Cole appears conflicted, although, ultimately nods in agreement. “If that’s what you’d like. However, if you want my opinion, I think you should tell her. Gavin doesn’t deserve your protection.”
He sits with me until some of the color returns to my face. The shaking subsides after I’ve downed a bottle and a half of water. Cole makes me promise to not neglect myself again or he’ll make it his personal mission to ensure I’m eating and drinking enough every day. “As much as I think you enjoy my company, I don’t think you’ll want me around that much,” he jokes.
I brush a curl from his forehead. “You’re wrong.” I catch the look of astonishment just before I lay my head on his shoulder. He drapes his arm over me, tracing slow circles over my skin.
“Thea?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you be up for coming over later? I have something for you.” I want to lift my head and look at him, but I’m afraid of what I’ll see. His voice is full of emotion, making me nervous. I feel entirely too fragile right now to handle what I might find on his face.
I can feel myself free falling into eventual heartache, looking him in the eyes will make me speed faster towards it. It’s impossible for someone to be this amazing and to have chosen me, isn’t it?
Don’t doubt your worth. I wish it was that easy. Twelve years of shame and rejection resurface every so often, planting seeds of uncertainty in my mind. I’m angry at myself for not being able to wash myself clean of Gavin’s effects. Tears sting my eyes. I shut them tight, forcing the emotions back down.
“Yes,” I whisper against his chest and stay there a little longer, until I feel strong enough to face him without breaking completely.