ログインChapter Seven : Maya pov
Something was wrong. I didn't know how I knew. I just did. The way Cole avoided my eyes at Sunday dinner. The way Jay canceled plans twice in one week. The way both of them went quiet when I walked into a room. Like they'd been talking about something. Like I was the interruption. "You're imagining things," Sarah said. We were at the coffee shop. Jay was working the counter, but he hadn't looked at me once. Not once. In forty-five minutes. "I'm not." I stirred my latte. The foam had gone flat. "He's been different for weeks." "Jay? Or Cole?" "Both." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "That's weird." "Yeah." I watched Jay hand a customer their drink. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. It hadn't reached his eyes in days. Maybe longer. I just hadn't been paying attention. "It's weird." That night, Jay came over to my apartment. He was quiet. Distant. He sat on my couch but didn't lean into me like he usually did. His body was stiff, like he was sitting next to a stranger. His hands were folded in his lap. He kept rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. Nervous habit. "Jay." I put my hand on his. "What's going on?" "Nothing. Just tired." "You're always tired lately." He looked at me. His eyes were sad. There was something behind them — guilt, maybe. Or fear. Or both. "Maya..." "What?" He opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head. "Nothing. I'm sorry. I'm just in my head." I wanted to push. I wanted to scream at him to tell me the truth. But I didn't. I just leaned into him and pretended not to feel the distance. Pretended not to notice that he didn't pull me closer. Pretended not to notice that he barely touched me back. We watched a movie. I don't remember what movie. Something romantic. Something funny. The girl got the guy in the end. Happy ending. Everyone clapped. I fell asleep on his shoulder. When I woke up, he was gone. A text on my phone: Had to leave early. Early shift. See you tomorrow. I didn't remember him leaving. I didn't remember him kissing me goodbye. That was the first time I really knew something was wrong. Three days later, I drove to Cole's guest house. I hadn't told him I was coming. I just needed to see my brother. To talk. To ask him if he'd noticed Jay acting strange too. Cole was always honest with me. Brutally honest, sometimes. He would tell me if something was wrong. He would never lie to me. Never. The door was unlocked. I walked in. The guest house smelled different. Not like Cole — like someone else. Someone's hoodie was draped over the back of the couch. Gray. Worn. I'd seen it before. I'd touched it before. I'd borrowed it once when I was cold. Jay's hoodie. My heart stopped. I stood there for a full minute. Staring at the hoodie. At the two coffee mugs on the table, both half full. Both with lip marks. One mug had a small chip on the handle. I'd bought that mug for Cole last Christmas. It was his favorite. The bedroom door was half open. Sheets tangled inside. I could see from where I was standing. I didn't need to go closer. But I did anyway. "Cole?" My voice came out small. Like a child's. Like I was five years old again, looking for him in the dark after a nightmare. No answer. I walked to the bedroom. Pushed the door open slowly. It creaked. The bed was unmade. Two pillows. Both smelled like cologne. One was Cole's. The other was Jay's. I backed away. Hit the wall. Covered my mouth with both hands. My knees went weak. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. I pulled out my phone. Called Jay. He answered on the second ring. "Hey, babe." "Where are you?" "At work. Why?" "Are you sure?" A pause. "Maya, what's going on?" I hung up. I called Cole. He answered. "Hey. What's up?" "Where are you?" "At practice. Why?" "Are you sure?" Another pause. "Maya, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" I hung up again. I sat on the floor of Cole's guest house for a long time. Ten minutes. Maybe twenty. I don't know. I couldn't feel time. I couldn't feel anything except the cold floor under me and the weight of what I'd just seen. Then I stood up. Walked to the couch. Picked up Jay's hoodie. Held it to my face. It smelled like him. And like Cole. I started to cry. Not pretty crying. The ugly kind. The kind where you can't breathe. The kind where your whole body shakes. I don't know how long I stayed there. Long enough for the sun to move across the floor. Long enough for my tears to dry on my cheeks. Then I put the hoodie back exactly where I found it. I made sure the coffee mugs were still in the same position. I closed the bedroom door the way it was. Then I left. Locked the door behind me. Got in my car. Sat there for another ten minutes. Then I drove home. I didn't confront them that night. I went home. I sat in the dark. I didn't turn on any lights. I just sat on my couch, in the same spot where Jay used to hold me, and I thought about every late night, every canceled plan, every time Jay said he was "at the gym." The gym at Cole's house. I thought about the way Cole looked at Jay during that first dinner. The way he couldn't stop staring. I thought it was hatred. I told myself it was hatred. I told myself Cole was just protective. Maybe it was never hatred. I thought about the way Jay talked about Cole. Not like someone he hated. Like someone he was trying not to think about. Like someone he was trying not to want. I thought about the way they looked at each other when they thought I wasn't watching. I didn't sleep. At 3am, I texted Sarah: I think Jay is cheating on me. She replied immediately: With who? I typed. Erased. Typed again. I think it's Cole. Maya... that's crazy. I know. Did you see something? I'm at his guest house. Jay's hoodie is here. Two coffee mugs. The bed is messed up. Long pause. I'm coming over. She showed up at my apartment at 4am in her pajamas, hair a mess, eyes wide. She didn't say anything. She just sat next to me on the couch and held me while I cried. We stayed like that until the sun came up. The sky turned from black to gray to pink. Birds started singing. The world woke up. Mine had already ended. "What are you going to do?" she asked finally. "Confront them." "Both of them?" "Both of them." Sarah squeezed my hand. "I'll be there. Whenever you need me." I nodded. But I knew this was something I had to do alone. The next morning, I sent two texts. To Cole: We need to talk. Guest house. 7pm. To Jay: Be at Cole's guest house tonight at 7. I'll explain when you get there. Both replied: Okay. I spent the day in a fog. I went to class. I didn't hear a single word. The professor was talking about something. Art history. Renaissance paintings. I didn't care. I stared at the board and saw nothing. I came home. I stared at the clock. The minutes crawled by. Each one felt like an hour. At 6:30, I got in my car and drove to the Ashford estate. The sun was setting. The sky was orange and pink. Beautiful. The kind of evening that should have been romantic. The kind of evening I used to dream about with Jay. Walking hand in hand. Laughing about nothing. Instead, it felt like a funeral. I parked at the bottom of the driveway. Walked up slowly. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. My hands were shaking. My legs felt like they might give out. The guest house lights were on. I knocked. Cole opened the door. His face was pale. His gray eyes were wide. He looked scared. I'd never seen my brother scared before. Not even when Mom was dying. Not even when Dad yelled at him for losing a game. "Maya. What's going on?" "Wait for Jay." "Maya —" "I said wait." He stepped aside. Let me in. I sat on the couch. The same couch where I'd found Jay's hoodie. The cushions still smelled like him. I wondered if Cole knew that. I wondered if he'd noticed. Jay arrived five minutes later. He walked through the door, saw me sitting there, saw Cole standing by the window, and his face went white. Like he'd seen a ghost. Like he already knew what this was about. "Maya." "Sit down." He sat. The three of us were in the same room. My brother. My boyfriend. And me. The silence was heavy. Thick enough to choke on. "I know," I said. Neither of them spoke. "I know about you two." My voice was shaking, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. "I found Jay's hoodie. I saw the bed. I'm not stupid." Jay dropped his head. His hands were trembling in his lap. He wouldn't look at me. "Maya..." he started. "Don't." I held up a hand. "Don't say you're sorry. Not yet. First, tell me the truth." Cole looked at Jay. Jay looked at Cole. Something passed between them. A conversation I wasn't part of. A language I didn't speak. Then Cole said, "It's true." The words hit me like a punch to the chest. Even though I already knew. Even though I'd prepared myself. Hearing it out loud was different. It was real. It was permanent. "How long?" "Weeks," Cole said. "Weeks?" My voice cracked. "You've been lying to me for weeks?" "Yes." I stood up. Walked to the window. Turned my back to them so they couldn't see me cry. The window faced the backyard. The trees. The sky. I stared at nothing. "Why?" I asked. "Why him? Why behind my back? If you had feelings, why didn't you just tell me?" "Because we were scared," Jay said. I turned around. "Scared of what?" "Of losing you." His eyes were wet. Tears streamed down his face. He wasn't even trying to hide them. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Maya. Both of us. We didn't want to hurt you." "Then why did you?" Neither of them answered. Because there was no answer. There was no excuse good enough. No explanation that would make it okay. I looked at my brother. The boy who taught me how to ride a bike. Who held my hand at Mom's funeral. Who promised to always protect me. Who promised to never let anyone hurt me. "You were supposed to be my safe place," I said to him. Cole's face crumbled. Tears fell from his eyes. He didn't wipe them. He just let them fall. "I know." "You were supposed to love me more than anyone." "I do love you." "Then why does it feel like you chose him over me?" Cole walked toward me. Stopped a foot away. Close enough to touch. Close enough to hug. I didn't move. "I didn't choose him over you," he said. "I fell in love with him. It wasn't a choice." "Love is always a choice." "No." He shook his head. "Who you fall for isn't a choice. What you do about it is. And I chose wrong. I should have told you. I should have been honest. I should have never let it get this far without telling you." "You should have never touched him." Cole flinched. Like I'd hit him. Jay stood up. "Maya, don't —" "Don't what? Don't tell the truth?" I laughed. A broken, ugly sound. It didn't sound like me. "You slept with my brother. In my brother's bed. While you were dating me. That's the truth." Jay looked at the floor. His shoulders shook. He was crying too. I walked to the door. Paused with my hand on the handle. The wood was cold under my palm. "I'm not going to tell Dad," I said. "Not yet. But I need time. Both of you. Stay away from me." "Maya —" Cole started. "Stay away." I walked out. The cold air hit my face. I walked to my car. Got in. Sat there for ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Gripping the steering wheel. Crying until I couldn't see. Until my head hurt. Until I had nothing left. Then I drove home. That night, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The same ceiling I'd stared at when Mom died. The same ceiling that had watched me fall apart a hundred times. The same cracks in the paint. The same water stain in the corner. Cole was all I had left. And now I didn't have him either. I picked up my phone. Opened my text thread with Cole. I typed: I'm not going to tell Dad. But I need time. Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't come to my apartment. Sent. Then I opened Jay's thread. I typed: I don't hate you. But I can't look at you right now. Please respect that. Sent. I turned off my phone. Buried my face in my pillow. And I cried until I fell asleep.The morning after the Paris opening, Jay woke up to sunlight streaming through the hotel window and the Eiffel Tower glittering in the distance.He lay still for a long time. His chest was light. His mind was quiet. The weight that had been sitting on him for months had finally lifted. He didn't know why. He didn't question it. He just let himself feel it.Cole stirred behind him."You're awake," Cole mumbled."I'm awake.""What time is it?""Late."Cole pulled him closer. "Good. Stay here."Jay smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."They had breakfast at a small cafe near the hotel.Croissants. Coffee. Fresh fruit. Jay ate slowly. He didn't rush. He didn't think about the show. He didn't think about the paintings. He just ate.Cole watched him."What?" Jay asked."Nothing.""You're staring.""I'm looking.""It's the same thing.""It's not.""It is."Jay laughed. "You're impossible."Cole grinned. "You love it."Jay looked at him. "I do."The phone rang at 10am. Elena."Jay," she said. "Ho
Jay woke up the morning before Paris and couldn't move.His body was heavy. His mind was blank. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The sun was coming through the curtains. Cole was still asleep next to him. His breathing was steady. His arm was draped across Jay's chest.Jay didn't move. He didn't want to wake him. He just lay there. Thinking about nothing. Thinking about everything.He must have fallen asleep again. When he opened his eyes, Cole was sitting up. He was looking at Jay with worried eyes."Jay," Cole said. "You okay?""I'm fine.""You're not fine.""I'm tired."Cole leaned closer. "You've been tired for months.""I know.""Maybe you need to rest.""I've been resting.""No. You've been working. That's not the same thing."Jay was quiet. He didn't have an argument.Jay went to the studio that afternoon.The room was empty. The walls were bare. The paintings were already on their way to Paris. He stood in the middle of it and turned in a circle. He had nothing left to do
Paris.The word sat in Jay's head like a stone. Heavy. Permanent. Unmovable. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Paris. Another city. Another show. Another forty paintings. His hands were already tired just from the thought of it.He sat on the couch. The apartment was quiet. Cole was in the kitchen. The smell of coffee drifted through the air. Jay stared at the wall. He didn't move. He didn't speak.Cole walked over. He sat next to Jay. "You're quiet.""I'm thinking.""About Paris?""About everything."Cole put his arm around him. "You don't have to decide today.""I know.""But you're going to think about it anyway."Jay nodded. "I'm going to think about it anyway."Jay went to the studio that morning.The room was empty. The walls were bare. He stood in the middle of it and turned in a circle. He had no paintings. No plans. No ideas. Just a deadline and a city that was waiting for him.Rivera walked in. She didn't knock."You're back," she said."I'm back.""You're not painting.""
The hotel in London was small and old.Cracked walls. Creaky floors. A window that looked out onto a narrow street. Jay stood by the window and watched the rain fall. The sky was gray. The buildings were wet. The city was quiet. He didn't know what he was feeling. Excitement. Fear. Something in between.Cole came up behind him. He put his arms around Jay's waist."What are you thinking?""That I'm here. London. The gallery. It's real.""It's real.""I don't know if I'm ready."Cole turned him around. "You're ready.""What if I'm not?""Then you fake it."Jay laughed. "That's not helpful.""It's not supposed to be helpful. It's supposed to be true."The gallery was in South Kensington.White walls. High ceilings. Track lighting. Jay's paintings were already on the walls. Thirty-five pieces. Figures in fields. Men on hills. Women by the water. People standing in the light. The man on the bridge. The woman in the crowded street. The man in the dark room with the window.Jay walked throug
Jay couldn't sleep.He lay in bed staring at the ceiling. London. Another city. Another show. Another thirty-five paintings. His mind was racing. He couldn't turn it off. He couldn't slow it down.Cole was asleep next to him. His breathing was steady. His arm was draped across Jay's chest. Jay didn't move. He didn't want to wake him.He stared at the ceiling until the sky outside turned from black to gray. Then he got up.He walked to the kitchen. He made coffee. He sat at the table. He stared at the wall.Cole found him an hour later."Jay," Cole said. His voice was rough with sleep."I'm here.""You're up early.""Couldn't sleep."Cole sat next to him. "Thinking about London?""Thinking about everything."Cole reached for his hand. "You don't have to decide today.""I know.""But you're going to think about it anyway."Jay nodded. "I'm going to think about it anyway."Jay went to the studio that morning.The room was empty. The walls were bare. He stood in the middle of it and turne
The flight to New York was long.Jay sat by the window. Cole sat next to him. The plane lifted off. The city shrank below them. Jay pressed his face to the glass. He watched until the buildings disappeared. Then he watched the clouds. Then he watched nothing at all."You're quiet," Cole said."I'm thinking.""About the show?""About everything."Cole reached over. He took Jay's hand. "We're going to be okay.""We?""Us. Together. Always."Jay squeezed his hand. "I love you."Cole squeezed back. "I know."The hotel was in Manhattan.Tall building. Small room. A view of the skyline. Jay stood by the window. The city was sprawling below him. Millions of people. Millions of faces. And soon, they would all be looking at his work.Cole came up behind him. He put his arms around Jay's waist."What are you thinking?""That I'm here. New York. The gallery. It's real.""It's real.""I don't know if I'm ready."Cole turned him around. "You're ready.""What if I'm not?""Then you fake it."Jay la
Chapter Fourteen :Jay pov I woke up at 5am to the sound of rain hitting my window.The sky was gray. The streets were wet. My apartment was cold. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders and stared at the ceiling.I'd been doing that a lot lately. Staring at ceilings. Thinking about things
Chapter Thirteen :Cole pov I didn't sleep after Maya let me in.Not that night. Not the next night. I just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word she said.You're still my brother. I still love you. Even when I'm angry.Those words kept me alive.The guest house was dark. Quiet.
Chapter Twelve : Maya povI stared at my phone for twenty minutes before I typed the message.My thumb hovered over the keyboard. My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. I hadn't spoken to Jay in weeks. Not really. A few texts. Short ones. Careful ones. Nothing that meant anything.But I coul
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 br







