24. Cohen #2
Ava lifted the lid and pulled out the framed photo.
It was from the first game she’d brought Ellie to.
Ava was leaning over the railing at the edge of the stands, her dark hair pulled into a loose braid spilling over one shoulder, smiling brightly down at me on the field.
Ellie was settled in my arms, tiny fists gripping my jersey, her Aviators onesie stretched across her little back—my name printed there in bold letters.
Ellie and I were smiling up at her mom like we already knew exactly who we belonged to, unaware that anyone was watching.
She glanced up at me with a large smile, emotion shimmered in her dark blue eyes. "I love it." She looked back down at the picture, running her fingertips across the frame. "Thank you," she added softly.
"The team photographer sent me the photo, and I had to give it to you… you two looked so… happy."
“Well… thank you. I love this picture so much."
I smiled. "You're welcome. Today’s been great. I haven’t had a family Christmas since my mom passed.”
The word slipped out before I could catch it. Family.
“I mean—Callie and I try to get together,” I added quickly. “But schedules don’t always match up.”
Ava’s expression softened. “Then I’m glad we got to spend it with you.
” She exhaled slowly. Steeling herself. “I want you to know I really appreciate you, Cohen. Everything you’ve done for Ellie and me this past year.
You’ve opened up to me. Let me see parts of you that most people don’t get to see.
And I don’t feel like I’ve given you much of that in return. ”
My pulse kicked up. Were we finally doing this?
I opened my mouth to speak, but she lifted a hand to stop me. “It’s my turn.”
I shook my head. “You don’t owe me that.”
“I know. But I want to.”
She took a sip of wine like she needed it for courage.
And then she told me.
She let down some of her walls and, for the first time, showed me what was on the other side.
And fuck, did I want to be on the other side of that wall.
To hold her, comfort her, and tell a younger Ava she was enough, just as she was.
That she was the most incredible woman I'd ever met.
She was smart, bold, talented, caring, beautiful inside and out.
But did I do that?
No.
Instead, I sat and listened as she told me how she'd never been someone's first choice. How she was always the almost. The good time. The placeholder. About how work and horses were the only places she'd ever felt chosen.
My chest ached for her. Because I had reinforced that fear. At Thanksgiving, in her parents’ foyer, when I’d chosen safety over her. When I’d told her I was there for Ellie.
When she finished, tears slid down her cheeks.
I reached out without thinking and brushed them away. She went still, and our eyes locked. The need to kiss her hit like a tidal wave. I cupped her jaw gently, searching her face. She glanced down at my mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed, granting me permission.
And I kissed her.
God. I would never get tired of kissing her.
It started soft. Careful. Then deeper and hungrier.
I trailed my tongue along the seam of her lips and sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, eliciting a soft moan from her before she opened for me.
Her hands found my hair, mine found her waist as I pulled her closer.
She climbed into my lap. Her body pressed against mine.
I groaned as she moved against me, slow and deliberate.
I felt every inch of her through the thin fabric between us.
“Fuck, baby” I breathed against her mouth. “God, I’ve missed you.”
My hands slipped under her sweatshirt —
And then she froze.
She rested her forehead against mine, our chests heaving in unison. Her hand lay against my chest like a barricade. "Cohen." Her tone was soft but defeated, sending a bucket of ice water over the top of us.
I opened my eyes. Sadness, fear, regret. All of it staring back at me.
Ava heaved out a shaky sigh, "We can't do this…
as much as I want to." She slid off my lap—I missed her immediately.
"Every time we do this, things get… complicated. You mean too much to me, and I love our friendship. I’ve missed it.
I can't risk ruining that, we almost did before…
several times actually. Today was the first time in a while I felt like we were finally back to normal. "
I exhaled slowly. “Ava… I’m not trying to make this complicated,” I said quietly. “I just—”
“Cohen.” Her voice cracked slightly this time. “Every time we blur this line, it costs us something.”
I could push. I could tell her she was wrong. That this wasn’t some mistake we kept tripping into. But the look in her eyes wasn’t defiance—It was fear.
And I’d already given her enough of that.
So, I swallowed it.
“Okay." I studied her face. “But, do you really think that’s what this is?” I asked.
She stiffened slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Complicating things,” I said.
Her jaw tightened. “Isn’t it?”
I dragged a hand through my hair, frustrated but trying to stay steady. “Ava, this isn’t some impulse. It’s not just—” I stopped myself before I said too much.
She looked away. And that told me everything.
This wasn’t about Ellie. It was about her not believing she was enough.
Not believing that I would really choose her, that I could commit.
Hell, I didn't exactly have the best track record. I could keep pushing. I could argue. I could promise things I wasn’t even sure how to articulate yet or things I wasn’t even sure I could do.
But she’d drawn the line. And if I pushed past it, I’d only prove her point.
I nodded instead. “Okay,” I said again, the word heavier now.
Her shoulders relaxed like she’d been bracing for a fight. That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. If she wanted safe, I’d give her safe. Give her the stability I could see she needed, not just for Ellie, but for herself as well. Even if safe meant watching her slip just out of reach.
I did the only thing I could in that moment. I backed off. Not because I didn’t want her, but because she wanted friendship. She wanted a partnership she could trust, and to her anything other than friendship with me wasn't it.
Ava pushed up from the couch. She held her hand out for me to take.
I slipped my hand in hers, allowing her to pull me up with her.
She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed, laying her cheek against my chest. "I'm going to go to bed.
I'll get Ellie tomorrow afternoon. Thank you for everything.
It really was a great Christmas." She pulled back to look up at me, a soft smile on her lips. The look in her eyes, sincere.
I placed a gentle kiss against her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Ava."
And in that moment, safe felt a lot like loss.