50. Riley
Over the next few weeks,I start to settle back into my mind-numbing routine at the restaurant. I haven’t heard from any more jobs, so it’s looking like I’m gonna end up back in the same place I was before: working my ass off, waiting tables, and coming home frustrated.
Cole still calls sometimes. Every few days, my phone will buzz, and his name will flash on the screen. I still haven’t answered any of his calls or listened to his voicemails, but I don’t block his number, either, despite Olivia’s suggestion.
On a Saturday morning six weeks after I left the Sullivans’ house, I decide to get back into the swing of volunteering. I’d taken a break from the community center after moving back into my apartment; I needed the time to get back on my feet and re-orient myself.
But now, everything seems to be settling back to normal. It’s high time I got back to the kids. They’re probably missing me, and I know I miss them.
I take the subway over to the center. There’s standing room only in the car, and I cling desperately to a metal pole to keep myself upright when the train comes to a sudden stop. It’s loud, and the station smells foul. I find myself longing for a ride in one of Cole’s clean, black cars.
I step through the glass front doors of the center, heading over to the receptionist’s desk to check in for my class.
As I approach, the young woman behind the desk—another volunteer, just like me—gives me a wide-eyed look.
“Yeah, I’m back,” I say cheerfully, assuming she’s just surprised to see me after such a long time. But the receptionist shakes her head, glancing off to the side.
I follow her gaze, and my heart skips a beat.
It’s Cole. Standing in the lobby, twenty feet away from me, across from Lenny, the guy in charge of the center, a short, graying man in his fifties. Cole’s hands are in his pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever as he nods along with whatever Lenny is saying.
Cole turns and sees me, and suddenly, that razor-sharp focus is back in his eyes. I approach him slowly, almost afraid of what he’s going to say when he sees me.
Lenny follows Cole’s gaze and smiles at me. “Hi, Riley.”
All Cole says is, “Riley,” but just hearing my name on his tongue is enough to have my heart clenching hard in my chest.
I swallow, then stammer, “Wh-what are you doing here? I thought…”
Cole takes a casual look around the lobby, from the glass windows in the cafeteria area—painted with colorful handprints, which are new—to the front doors. “I thought I’d give back to the community,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“This young man has just bought the community center,” Lenny tells me, his eyes gleaming. He’s practically jumping up and down in excitement. “The whole building, and our trademark.”
I blink, taken aback. “He what?”
“We were just talking about our expansion,” Lenny continues.
“Expansion?”
“That’s right,” says Cole. “We’re going to be adding a new wing onto the building, and taking on more staff. Growing the reach of the center, and incorporating some new programs.”
“Are you serious?”
He nods. “That’s not all, either.”
“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Lenny asks.
“Go ahead.” There’s something unreadable in Cole’s eyes. Anticipation, maybe?
“There’s room in the budget to add several new positions,” Lenny tells me. “And there’s no one we’d rather take on than you. We’re hiring a social worker, full time. The position’s yours, if you want it.”
My mouth drops open. Stunned, I look between him and Cole, not sure if this is real, or if I’m still in bed, dreaming.
“You do want it, right?” Lenny presses.
“I…” I stare at Cole. He nods slightly, as if encouraging me. I clear my throat and turn back to Lenny. “Of course! Yes, of course! I’d love to work here.”
Lenny beams, and a small, understated smile spreads across Cole’s face.
“Perfect,” says Lenny. He reaches out to shake my hand, then, in his exuberance, shakes Cole’s hand again. “If you’ll both excuse me, I have some paperwork to get through in my office. Mr. Sullivan, once again… I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Likewise,” Cole replies. “It was nice to meet you, Lenny.”
Lenny trots off to the back hallway, leaving the two of us behind. I glance over to the receptionist’s desk, and see that the volunteer sitting there has vanished as well. From the office, I hear the sound of the copier running.
Cole and I are alone in the lobby.
I’m not sure what to say to him at first. I suppose I should be thanking him. This is the most unbelievable thing anyone’s ever done for me… and I’m certain that he did this for me, as much as he claims it was just charity.
There were a thousand places he could’ve channeled this money, and he chose the community center that I’ve poured my heart into. He chose the place that would give me a career, ending my days stuck at the restaurant.
That’s definitely not an accident.
I clear my throat, trying to find the words to express my gratitude. But before I can speak, he does, his voice soft.
“Riley.”
There’s a plaintive edge in his tone, beseeching. I catch my breath.
“I want you back,” he says quietly, though his words ring out clear in the open lobby. “I want to make this real between us.”
Instantly, my heart leaps. My mouth almost betrays me; I can feel the words on my lips, so do I. I have to bite them back before I can regret saying them.
It’s true, to a certain extent. So do I. I want nothing more than to have Cole, and for Cole to have me. For the feelings between us to be fully realized. To end this stressful, painful dance for good. To admit that I’m in love.
But…
“I can’t do it,” I whisper.
Cole’s face falls. The look of hurt in his eyes makes this all the more difficult.
“I’m sorry,” I say, strained. “I can’t. I can’t trust you with my heart.”
I lift my chin, meeting his gaze directly. I want to be as honest with him as possible.
“Why not?” There’s no accusation in Cole’s voice. He’s genuinely asking.
“On some level, I’ll always be the nanny you’re fucking,” I whisper. “If we were going to make a real go of it… I would be more than that to Archie. But you’re never going to trust me to be your partner. Your real partner, raising your child.”
I look away, unable to bear the sadness in his gaze. I stare at the sunlight filtering through the handprints on the windows.
“I’ll always be lesser. I can’t do that,” I say.
Cole lets out a breath. I give him a moment to speak, but he seems to be waiting for me to finish.
“Archie is lucky to have someone who loves him so much.” I swallow hard. “To love him with his whole heart. I deserve that, too. And I don’t want to settle for less.”
I look back at Cole, who nods, his expression tight.
“Thank you,” I say. I lift a hand to gesture at the atrium. “What you did for this place is really amazing.”
“These kids are lucky to have you,” Cole replies, his voice hoarse.
I glance up at the clock—it’s two fifty-five. My painting class starts in five minutes. I give Cole a last glance, my stomach twisting at the look on his face. For a moment, I wonder if I should say something else to him; is there something else that you say to someone like this?
Someone who mattered to you so much that the parting is painful? Someone who made their way into your heart, and left a hole on their way back out?
In the end, I can’t think of what to say. I walk past Cole, heading for the supply closet where the paints are stored. When I re-emerge into the atrium, he’s gone.