Page 103 of Cheap Shot
I shift slightly, just enough to look up at him. His face is turned toward me, hair messy, jaw rough with stubble. There’s a furrow between his brows even in sleep, like his body can’t quite let go, like some part of him is still waiting for the next blow.
He stirs in my arms as I reach up, smoothing that crease away with my thumb.
“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly from sleep.
“I don’t know. You?”
His hazel eyes open, still storm-touched, but quieter now. Like the waves have calmed, even if the tide hasn’t gone out yet. “Not really, but I’m better with you here.”
The words land with the weight of truth. Not shiny or romantic, just raw. My throat tightens as I press a kiss to his shoulder, a quiet promise before lying back down and snuggling into his side..
We stay quiet a little longer before I speak again. “I want to call him my dad. He needs to hear me choose you.”
Cole stiffens, his breath faltering before he exhales through his nose. “You don’t have to. Not for me.”
“I do.” I sit up, finding my phone on the nightstand. “Because he won’t ever change. But I have.”
I stare at it for a second, heart hammering in my chest as I scroll toDadand hit call before I can lose my nerve.
He answers on the second ring, his voice gruff because he’s probably expecting an apology. “Michele.”
“I’m staying with Cole,” I say before he can say anything else. My voice is clear. Steady. “I love him.”
A pause. Then a scoff. “After everything I told you?—”
“I know who he is and what he’s done. But I also know who I am when I’m with him. And I’m not walking away from that.”
“You’re throwing away your career.”
“No,” I say, jaw tightening. “You’re the one who threw something away last night. You chose pride and anger over your daughter.”
His silence is louder than shouting.
“If you make me choose,” I say, voice barely above a whisper now, “I’ll choose him every time.”
“You’ll regret this,” he spits.
I don’t flinch. I don’t fight. I just hang up. My hand falls to my lap, shaking, tears stinging behind my eyes, but underneath all that, there’s a clarity I haven’t felt in years.
Cole is sitting up now, watching me with cautious eyes. “You chose me.”
I crawl back into his arms and rest my forehead against his chest. His hand comes up, strong and shaking, to cradle the back of my head. “I’m not afraid of your past.”
His breath catches, pulling me closer like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
“My mom died in the bathroom,” I whisper. “When I was eight. Pills. Prescription. I think that’s why last night… why I reacted the way I did.”
His arms tighten as he presses his lips to the top of my head. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I don’t want to run from things anymore.”
He nods, his voice barely audible. “Then we won’t. Not alone.”
I bury my face in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe we might actually be strong enough to build something out of the wreckage.
Together.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
