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He’ll understand why I did it all once he’s a bit older.
No matter what I tell myself, I feel shittier and shitter with each passing minute.
I gaze at the envelope again and swallow. I guess that’s it then. He doesn’t need me anymore and I’m back on my own.
“You only have yourself in this world, Zoe,” Mom had always said. “You were born alone and you’ll die alone. Remember that.”
Oh I remember it alright. It’s kicking me in the ass now as I try to figure out how the hell I’ll haul all my shit out of Cole’s house now that I don’t have my truck.
“Zoe, are you okay?” Cole asks and I blink.
We’re back at his cabin and he’s holding the passenger door open for me to get out.
“Yes,” I say, sliding out. My legs feel like jelly and Cole grabs my waist to steady me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
I’m always okay. I always figure things out. Even when the walls feel like they’re closing in on me somehow I manage to keep them apart, if only by an inch.
“Whoa,” Cole captures me, scooping me up into his arms and closing the door with his shoulder. “No you’re not. Are you sick? Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”
He sounds so concerned, but I refuse to look in his eyes where I know I’ll melt. If I’m already this devastated, I can’t imagine what it would be like if I fell deeper in love with him for a year or two.
How had I got my heart so entangled in all of this? Cole stated the contract’s term plainly. There were no declarations of love even when we had sex or false hope, just a promise of friendship. Maybe that’s for the best anyway. Even if Cole did love me, I’ve never known a man to stay. I‘ve never known a man to not get tired of a woman he claimed to want a ‘happily ever after’ with.
“My stomach just hurts,” I say as he carries me up the porch steps and into the house. It isn’t a lie. It’s in knots and twisting so hard I think I may vomit.
“Let me get you some ginger ale,” Cole says carrying me into the bedroom. “Here, just lie down.”
The moment I leave his arms and he disappears into the kitchen, tears spring to my eyes.
On the opposite wall I spot our wedding photo. The one where we’re cutting the cake while Zander sneaks a taste of chocolate icing. Cole’s guiding the knife but peering into my eyes like I’m his soulmate. It looks so damn real.
It feels so fucking real.
But it isn’t Zoe.
Something in me snaps. Blurry eyed, I slip from the bed and grab an empty bag from the closet. I can’t stay here. Not even for one night.
The moment I pull open my drawer and grab a handful of underwear, Cole comes into the room with a chilled glass of ginger ale. He freezes, but I don’t. I dump the underwear into the bag before moving on to my sock drawer.
The silence is only broken by the sound of the glass being placed on the wooden nightstand. Then, I feel Cole behind me, watching me dumbfounded as I move on to my jeans.
“Zoe. Please tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice low and hoarse like it’s about to crack. “Whatever I did wrong, tell me and I’ll fix it. We’ll fix it together.”
What he did wrong? He’s been damn near perfect this entire time. Suddenly I realize how this all must look, but I still can’t meet his gaze to reassure him.
I shake my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cole. I promise. It’s me. It’s all me.”
I reach to open another drawer but he stops me, blocking it with his thigh.
“Please move,”
“No.” It’s so firm it takes me by surprise.
“No?”
