chapter twenty

Chapter Twenty : Cole pov

The week after dinner felt different.

Not perfect. Not back to normal. But different. Lighter. Like someone had opened a window in a room that had been closed up for too long.

I still thought about Maya every day. Still felt the guilt sitting in my chest. Still wished I could go back and do things differently.

But I stopped waking up at 3am with my heart racing. I stopped staring at my phone, willing her to text me. I stopped pretending I was okay when I wasn't.

Because I wasn't okay. But I was getting there.

Liam noticed at practice. We were sitting on the bench, lacing up our skates. The rink was cold. The ice was fresh. The smell of frozen water and rubber filled the air.

"You're smiling more," he said.

"I'm not smiling."

"You are. It's weird. You never smile before practice."

"I'm smiling because we're going to win today."

"We're always going to win. You never smile about it."

I didn't have an answer for that.

Liam leaned over. His skates clacked against the floor. "It's the guy, isn't it? Jay."

I nodded.

"He's good for you."

"I know."

"Then don't screw it up."

"I'll try not to."

Liam slapped my shoulder. "Good. Now get on the ice."

I stood up. Grabbed my stick. The tape on the blade was fresh. I'd wrapped it myself last night, couldn't sleep, needed something to do with my hands.

The ice was cold under my skates. The familiar sting. I'd been on the ice a thousand times. Ten thousand. But today felt different.

Coach Hartley blew his whistle. The sound echoed off the walls. "Ashford. You're with Peterson on the blue line. Let's go."

I skated to my position. The puck dropped. The game began.

I played hard. Played fast. Played like I had something to prove.

Because when I was on the ice, 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 moving. Just hitting. Just breathing.

Sweat dripped down my face. My legs burned. My lungs burned. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

After practice, Coach pulled me aside. The team was filing off the ice. Sticks clattering. Voices echoing.

"You've been different lately," he said.

"Different how?"

"Better. More focused. Like you actually want to be here."

"I always want to be here."

"No. You always show up. That's not the same thing."

I didn't have an answer.

Coach crossed his arms. His whistle hung around his neck. His face was red from the cold. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

"I will."

He nodded. Walked away.

Liam was waiting for me in the locker room. He was already half undressed. His gear was piled on the bench next to him.

"You talked to your sister?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"How'd it go?"

"She didn't forgive me. But she didn't kick me out either."

"That's something."

"That's what everyone keeps saying."

"Because it's true." Liam pulled off his jersey. "You can't fix everything overnight. You just have to keep showing up."

"That's what I'm trying to do."

"Then keep trying."

I sat down. Started unlacing my skates. The laces were tight. I'd pulled them too tight. My fingers were cold.

Liam stood up. Grabbed his bag. "You coming to the coffee shop later?"

"Yeah."

"Bring me a muffin."

"Get your own muffin."

"You're going anyway."

I almost smiled. Almost

After practice, I went home and showered.

The water was hot. Too hot. But I didn't turn it down. I just stood there. Letting it run over me. Washing away the sweat. The cold. The weight.

I thought about Jay. About the way he smiled when I walked into the coffee shop. About the way his hand felt in mine. About the way he said my name like it meant something.

I got dressed. Jeans. Hoodie. The same gray one Jay liked.

My phone buzzed.

You coming? Jay texted.

Yeah, I replied. Be there in twenty.

Bring food. I'm starving.

You're always starving.

I work at a coffee shop. All we have is pastries.

Pastries are food.

Pastries are sugar. Bring real food.

I smiled.

Fine, I typed. What do you want?

Surprise me.

I stopped at a diner on the way. Ordered two burgers. Fries. Shakes. The waitress looked at me like I was crazy.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Not just for me."

She nodded. Didn't ask more.

I drove to the coffee shop. Parked in the back. Walked in through the rear entrance.

Jay was in the back room. Sitting on a crate. Wiping down the espresso machine.

"You brought food," he said.

"I said I would."

"I know. I just... I didn't believe it."

I set the bags on the table. Burgers. Fries. Shakes. The smell filled the small room.

Jay stood up. Walked to the table. Looked at the food.

"You got me a shake?"

"Chocolate. Your favorite."

He looked at me. His eyes were soft. "How did you know chocolate was my favorite?"

"You told me. First week we met."

"I didn't think you were listening."

"I was always listening."

Jay sat down. Picked up his burger. Took a bite. Closed his eyes.

"This is so good," he said.

"I know."

"I haven't had a real burger in weeks."

"Then eat."

He ate. I ate. We didn't talk much. Just sat there. Eating. Being.

When we finished, Jay leaned back. Put his hand on his stomach.

"I'm going to gain weight if you keep feeding me."

"You could use some weight."

"Excuse me?"

"You're skinny. You work too much. You don't eat enough."

"I eat."

"Pastries aren't food."

Jay laughed. "You sound like Sarah."

"Sarah sounds smart."

"She's going to like you."

"She already likes me."

"She tolerates you. There's a difference."

I reached across the table. Took his hand. "She'll like me eventually."

"Why?"

"Because I make you happy."

Jay was quiet for a minute. Then he squeezed my hand.

"Yeah," he said. "You do."

Jay's shift ended at 6pm.

He clocked out. Grabbed his jacket. Walked to the back room where I was waiting.

"You're still here," he said.

"I said I would be."

"You're going to make me cry."

"Don't. You're prettier when you're not crying."

He laughed. "That's the worst compliment I've ever received."

"It's the only one you're getting."

He sat across from me. Reached for my hand.

"Can we go somewhere?" he asked.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. I just want to be with you."

We walked to the park. The same park where Maya used to play. The same park where I'd pushed her on the swings. The same park where my mother used to take us for picnics.

The sun was setting. The sky was orange and pink. Beautiful.

Jay sat on a bench. I sat next to him.

"I've been thinking," he said.

"About what?"

"About us. About the future."

"What about it?"

"Do you see us lasting?"

I turned to look at him. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because everyone leaves eventually."

I felt my chest ache. "I'm not everyone."

"How do I know that?"

"You don't. Not yet. But I'm going to show you."

Jay was quiet for a minute. Then he leaned his head on my shoulder.

"I'm scared," he said.

"Of what?"

"Of getting used to this. Of waking up next to you. Of feeling happy. And then losing it."

I put my arm around him. "You're not going to lose it."

"You don't know that."

"I know." I kissed the top of his head. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

We sat there until the sun went down. The sky turned from orange to purple to black. The streetlights came on. People walked past us. No one stared. No one pointed. We were just two guys sitting on a bench.

It felt normal. It felt good.

I walked Jay home.

His apartment building was old. The stairs creaked. The hallway smelled like cooking oil and incense.

"Thanks for tonight," he said.

"For the food or the company?"

"Both."

I smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"The rink?"

"Yeah. Same time."

"Okay."

He kissed me. Soft. Quick. Not hungry. Just present.

"Goodnight, Cole."

"Goodnight, Jay."

I walked to my car. Drove home.

The streets were quiet. The stars were out. The moon was full.

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

Hope.

I got home at 9pm.

The guest house was dark. Quiet. But it didn't feel empty anymore.

I lay on the couch. Stared at the ceiling.

My phone buzzed. Maya.

Can we talk?

My heart stopped.

Now? I replied.

Now.

Where?

Your place. I'm outside.

I jumped up. Ran to the door. Opened it.

She was standing there. In the dark. In a hoodie and sweatpants. Her hair was messy. Her eyes were tired.

"Maya."

"Cole."

"Come in."

She walked inside. Looked around. At the clean kitchen. The made bed. The candle flickering on the table.

"You cleaned," she said.

"I try to keep it nice."

"It looks good."

She sat on the couch. I sat next to her.

"I've been thinking," she said.

"About what?"

"About you. About Jay. About Dad."

"And?"

Maya turned to look at me. Her eyes were steady. Not angry. Not sad. Just... present.

"I'm not ready to forgive you," she said.

"I know."

"Not yet."

"I know."

"But I'm not going to cut you out of my life."

"That's more than I deserve."

"Maybe. But it's what I've got."

I felt tears prick my eyes. I didn't wipe them away.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still angry."

"I know."

"Good."

She reached over. Took my hand. Her fingers were cold. I held on.

"I miss you," she said.

"I miss you too."

"We used to be close."

"We still can be."

"It's going to take time."

"I have time."

Maya nodded. Squeezed my hand. Then she let go.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Anything."

"Are you happy?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it.

"Not yet," I said. "But I'm getting there."

"Because of Jay?"

"Because of a lot of things. But yeah. Him too."

Maya nodded. Like she understood.

"He's good for you," she said.

"I know."

"Then don't screw it up."

"I'll try not to."

She almost smiled. Almost.

Maya stood up. "I should go."

"Already?"

"I'm tired. And I need to process."

"Okay."

She walked to the door. Paused with her hand on the handle.

"Cole."

"Yeah."

"I love you. Even when I'm angry."

"I love you too."

She left.

I sat on the couch for a long time. Staring at the door. At the spot where she'd been standing.

Then I called Jay.

"She came over," I said.

"Maya?"

"Yeah."

"What did she want?"

"To talk. To tell me she's not ready to forgive me. But she's not going to cut me out."

Jay was quiet for a moment. "That's huge."

"I know."

"How do you feel?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it.

"Hopeful," I said. "For the first time in a long time."

"That's good, Cole."

"Yeah. It is."

"She's going to come around. Both of them. Your dad too."

"You think?"

"I know."

"How?"

"Because they love you. And love doesn't just disappear."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I said nothing.

Jay filled the silence. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"The rink?"

"Yeah. Same time."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Cole."

"Goodnight, Jay."

I hung up. Put my phone on the table. Stared at the ceiling.

The cracks were still there. The water stain in the corner. The same ceiling I'd stared at a hundred times.

But it didn't feel as heavy anymore.

Nothing did.