chapter eleven

Chapter Eleven : Cole pov

I woke up at 4am and couldn't fall back asleep.

The guest house was dark. Quiet. Too quiet. I could hear the wind outside. A car driving past somewhere in the distance. My own heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Like it was reminding me I was still alive. Still here. Still breathing.

I stared at the ceiling. Thought about Maya. Thought about Jay. Thought about all the ways I'd messed everything up.

My phone was on the nightstand. I reached for it. Opened Maya's thread. The last message was still mine from days ago: I know you're not ready to talk. But I'm here. When you are.

No reply.

I put the phone down. Picked it up again. Opened Jay's thread.

You awake? I typed.

A few seconds later: Yeah. Can't sleep.

Me neither.

What are you thinking about?

Everything.

That's a lot.

Yeah.

Long pause. Then: Do you want to come over?

I stared at the screen. His apartment was small. Cramped. But it was his. And right now, I didn't want to be alone.

Yeah, I typed. Give me twenty minutes.

I drove through empty streets. The city was asleep. Streetlights reflected off wet pavement. It had rained earlier. The air smelled like wet concrete and something green. Grass maybe. Or trees. I couldn't tell.

The roads were empty. No cars. No people. Just me and the dark and the weight of everything I'd done.

Jay's building was old. The stairs creaked. The hallway smelled like cooking oil and incense. Someone's TV was on. A talk show. Laughter track. Fake. Hollow.

I knocked on his door. Soft. So I wouldn't wake the neighbors.

He opened it almost immediately. Like he'd been waiting right behind it.

His hair was messy. His eyes were tired. He was wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt with a hole in the collar. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

He stepped aside. Let me in.

His apartment was small. One room. A kitchenette. A bathroom so tiny you could barely turn around. But it was clean. Neat. He'd folded the blanket on his bed. Done the dishes. Lit a candle that smelled like vanilla.

"You didn't have to clean up," I said.

"I needed something to do." He sat on the edge of his bed. "Keeps my hands busy. Keeps my mind from wandering."

I sat next to him. Not close. Not far. Just... there.

"How are you holding up?" I asked.

"Not great. You?"

"Same."

We sat in silence for a minute. The candle flickered. The wind pressed against the window. Somewhere outside, a dog barked. Then stopped.

"She replied to me," Jay said.

I turned to look at him. "What?"

"Maya. She replied to my message."

My heart stopped. "What did she say?"

"She said she's not ready to talk. But she's not going to disappear either."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "That's something."

"Yeah. It's something."

"Did you reply?"

"I said thank you. She said don't thank me yet. I haven't forgiven you."

I nodded. That sounded like Maya. Guarded. Honest. Hurt but not cruel.

"She replied to me too," I said. "A few days ago. She said she got my letter. That she was glad I wrote it."

Jay looked at me. "That's good."

"It's not forgiveness."

"No. But it's not silence either."

We sat there. Shoulders almost touching. The candle burned low. The vanilla smell was fading. Soon it would be gone. Like everything else.

"I miss her," Jay said.

"Me too."

"I miss the way things were. Before."

"I know."

"Do you think we'll ever get that back?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it. About Maya. About our childhood. About all the years before any of this happened.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe not the same. But something. Eventually."

Jay leaned his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him. Held him close.

"We're going to be okay," I said.

"You don't know that."

"I know."

"How?"

I kissed the top of his head. "Because I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. And Maya's not going to hate us forever. She just needs time."

Jay didn't say anything. But his hand found mine. Squeezed.

We stayed like that until the sun came up.

I went back to the guest house around 7am. Tired. But lighter somehow.

The sun was rising over the Ashford estate. Golden light through the trees. Birds singing. The world waking up.

I stood at the window for a long time. Just watching.

My phone buzzed. Liam: Practice at 10. Don't be late.

I won't, I replied.

I tried to sleep. Couldn't. So I got up. Made coffee. Stared out the window some more.

The Ashford estate was beautiful in the morning. The grass was green. The trees were tall. The driveway was long and winding. I'd grown up here. Learned to skate on the private rink out back. Played hide and seek with Maya in the gardens.

Now it just felt empty.

My father was away on business. He was always away on business. Even when he was home, he wasn't really there. He sat in his study. Made phone calls. Signed papers. Looked at me like I was a disappointment.

He didn't know about Jay. About any of it. And I wasn't sure I was going to tell him.

Some things were none of his business.

Practice was brutal.

Coach Hartley ran us harder than usual. Suicides. Drills. Scrimmages. My legs burned. My lungs burned. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Because when I was moving, I wasn't thinking.

I wasn't thinking about Maya. I wasn't thinking about Jay. I wasn't thinking about the mess I'd made.

I was just skating. Just hitting. Just breathing.

Liam pulled me aside during a water break.

"You look like hell," he said.

"You keep saying that."

"Because it keeps being true."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. But you're here. That's something."

I drank my water. Didn't argue.

"You talked to him?" Liam asked.

"Jay? Yeah. Last night."

"How's he doing?"

"Not great. But better than before."

Liam nodded. "And your sister?"

"She replied to his text. Said she's not ready to talk but she's not disappearing."

"That's progress."

"Yeah."

"Then stop looking like someone died."

I almost laughed. Almost.

After practice, I drove to the coffee shop. The one where Jay worked. Not to see him. Not to talk. Just to be near him. To know he was there.

I sat in the corner. Ordered a black coffee. Didn't drink it.

Sarah was working the counter. She saw me. Didn't smile. Didn't wave. Just nodded. Like she understood.

Jay was in the back. I could see him through the pass-through window. Steaming milk. Pouring drinks. Moving like he was on autopilot.

He looked up. Saw me. Held my gaze for a second. Then looked away.

That was enough.

I stayed for twenty minutes. Then I left.

My phone buzzed as I was walking to my car.

You didn't have to come, Jay texted.

I wanted to.

You could have just texted.

I wanted to see you.

Long pause. Then: That's not going to help us stay away from each other.

I don't want to stay away from you.

Neither do I. But maybe we should. For now. For Maya.

I stared at the screen. My chest ached.

Is that what you want? I asked.

No. But it might be what we need.

I don't agree.

I know.

Jay.

Yeah.

I'm not going to disappear.

I know. Neither am I. But we can't keep doing this. Sneaking around. Hiding. It's not fair to her.

Then what do we do?

We wait. We give her space. And when she's ready, we face her together.

That's what I've been saying.

I know. I'm just slow.

I leaned against my car. The sun was warm on my face. The parking lot was empty. A bird landed on the hood of my car. Looked at me. Flew away.

Okay, I typed. We wait.

Okay.

I put my phone away. Got in my car. Sat there for a long time.

Then I drove home.

The next few days were hard.

I went to practice. I went home. I didn't see Jay. I didn't text him. I didn't call him.

It felt wrong. Like cutting off a part of myself.

Liam noticed. "You're quiet," he said during a break.

"I'm always quiet."

"Not like this."

I didn't have an answer.

He handed me a protein bar. "Eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat anyway."

I ate.

On the fourth day, I got a text from Maya.

I'm not ready to see you. But I want you to know I'm okay.

I read the message ten times. Eleven. Twelve.

Thank you for telling me, I replied. I miss you.

Long pause. Then: I miss you too.

It wasn't forgiveness. But it was something.

I called Jay.

"She texted me," I said.

"What did she say?"

"She said she's okay. That she misses me."

I heard him exhale. "That's good. That's really good."

"Yeah."

"We're getting there, Cole."

"Yeah."

"Slowly."

"I know."

I hung up. Stared at the ceiling.

For the first time in weeks, I felt something that wasn't guilt.

Hope.

That night, I wrote another letter.

Not to Maya. To myself.

I wrote down everything I was feeling. The guilt. The fear. The love. The hope. I wrote until my hand hurt. Until the page was full.

Then I folded it. Put it in my drawer. Didn't show anyone.

Some things were just for me.

The next morning, I woke up early. Went for a run. The sun was rising. The sky was pink and orange. Beautiful.

I ran past Maya's apartment. Didn't stop. Didn't knock. Just ran.

But I looked up at her window. The lights were off. She was still asleep.

One day, I thought. One day we'll talk again.

Until then, I'd wait.

I ran home. Took a shower. Went to practice.

Life kept moving. And so did I.

---

At practice, Coach Hartley pulled me aside again.

"You're playing better," he said.

"I'm trying."

"Don't try. Just play."

I nodded.

He looked at me for a long moment. "Whatever's going on in your life, leave it off the ice. You hear me?"

"I hear you."

"Good. Now get back out there."

I skated back to my team. Liam passed me the puck. I scored. Didn't celebrate. Just skated back to the faceoff circle.

One shift at a time. That's how I was living now.

After practice, I went to the grocery store.

I needed food. My fridge was empty. I'd been surviving on protein bars and coffee for days.

I walked the aisles. Bought bread. Eggs. Fruit. Things that required actual cooking. Things that meant I was trying.

At the checkout, I saw someone I recognized. A girl from Maya's class. Tessa. She looked at me. Didn't say anything. Just stared.

I paid. Left.

Outside, she caught up to me.

"You're Maya's brother, right?"

"Yeah."

"She's not doing well."

"I know."

"She won't talk to anyone."

"I know."

Tessa crossed her arms. "Did you do something?"

I didn't answer.

"Because she was fine before. Then suddenly she disappeared. Now she's back but she's not the same."

"I can't talk about this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not my story to tell."

Tessa stared at me for a long moment. Then she nodded. "Okay. But if you hurt her, you should fix it."

"I'm trying."

"Try harder."

She walked away.

I stood in the parking lot, holding my groceries, feeling like the worst person in the world.

That night, I called Jay.

"We can't stay away from each other," I said.

"I know."

"It's not working."

"I know."

"Then why are we pretending?"

Jay was quiet for a moment. "Because we're scared."

"Of what?"

"Of making it worse. Of hurting her more. Of being the bad guys."

"We're already the bad guys."

"Then what do we have to lose?"

I thought about it. "Nothing. Everything."

Jay sighed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Neither do I."

We sat in silence. The phone line crackled.

"Come over," Jay said.

"Now?"

"Yeah. Now."

I looked at the clock. 11pm.

"I'll be there in twenty.

I drove faster than I should have.

The streets were empty again. Dark again. Quiet again.

Jay was waiting at his door. He pulled me inside. Didn't say anything. Just held me.

We stood there in his tiny apartment. In the dark. Holding each other.

"I can't lose you," he said.

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"I know."

"How?"

"Because I won't let it happen."

Jay pulled back. Looked at me. His eyes were wet.

"We're a mess," he said.

"Yeah."

"A complete mess."

"Yeah."

He almost smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too."

We didn't kiss. Didn't do anything. Just stood there. Holding each other.

It wasn't a solution. It wasn't an ending.

But it was something.

And something was better than nothing.