“Sweetheart, I can’t wait for our next session. ❤️ We’re still going to the hotel by the lake this weekend, right? 💋”
In hindsight, I should have set the phone back down and walked away. Instead, I gripped it like evidence, as if staring at the pixels long enough would somehow make the words change.
I heard his footsteps approaching down the hallway, but I stayed rooted in the kitchen.
Cole walked in with damp hair and a towel slung over his shoulder, wearing comfortable sweatpants. He looked relaxed and totally at ease, as if his world was perfectly intact. He saw the phone in my hand and frowned slightly, but he simply reached past me to grab a glass from the cupboard.
“Cole,” I said, my eyes fixed on him.
He didn’t answer right away. He filled his glass, took a long drink, and then looked at me like I was an obstacle in his path.
“Cole, what is this?” My voice cracked, a sound of weakness I despised.
“It’s my phone, Paige,” he sighed heavily. “Sorry I left it out.”
“I saw the message, Cole.”
He didn’t even flinch. He reached for the orange juice and poured a splash into his water.
