Page 70 of Tinsel & Tools
He let out a slow breath, rubbed his jaw, then nodded. “All right. That’s a lot to hear, but I’ve known you too long to let it change anything. If he’s who makes you happy, then who am I to question it?”
“And he cares about you, Cole. You know that,” Allie stated.
“I care about him too,” I admitted. “I do. But he’s been writing about us, and I didn’t know until you told me. I can’t just act like it’s fine.”
Ryan sipped his soda. “So tell him it’s not fine. Make him fix it.”
I shook my head. “It’s not only that. If it gets out, everyone in town will know. I’ll walk into The Tap, and every head will turn. Mom, Dad, Lauren … I don’t even know what they’ll think. People around here don’t forget things. Once it’s out there, it’s out there.”
Ryan tapped a finger against his glass. “People will chew on it for a week, maybe two. Then they’ll find something else. You know this town. They don’t stick with one story forever.”
“It won’t feel like that when it’s me in the middle of it,” I argued.
“It never does,” Allie said gently. “But you’ll get through it. Especially if he’s by your side.”
Hazel stopped at the table with a pad in her hand. “Burger and iced tea for ya, Cole?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. “Extra pickles. And fries, please.”
She wrote it down and walked off.
Allie leaned in again. “You look miserable. If you want him, then figure it out. Don’t let the fact that he’s writing about you be a deal breaker. It means he really likes you, and if you really like him, go get your man.”
My throat tightened. “It’s not that easy.”
“It won’t ever be,” she said. “But nothing worth keeping ever is.”
I stared down at the table, the laminate worn smooth from years of elbows. The truth sat heavily in my chest. “I don’t know if I can face having everyone know.”
Ryan lowered his voice. “I’m not good at this stuff, but I’ll tell you what I see. You’ve been lighter these past few weeks than you’ve been at any point since you moved back after the divorce. Singing karaoke, laughing, just looking like yourself again. If he’s the reason for that, maybe don’t be so quick to let him go.”
Hazel returned with my plate, the burger dripping juice and the fries crisp at the edges. I thanked her and picked one up, though I couldn’t taste a thing. Though Allie and Ryan kept quiet while I ate, the weight of their words pressed harder on me than the silence ever could.
By the time I paid the check and stepped out into the cold, I was still confused and hated that I would spend another night without Gavin on his side of the bed.
26
Gavin
Once I’d made it back to the city, I was too exhausted—mentally and physically—to do anything more than leave my bags by the door and collapse into bed.
Even after the weekend, the weariness still lingered. I tried to push past it and pretend I could fall back into my regular routine, but the ache in my chest refused to let go.
I sat at my desk, letting my gaze wander around the apartment. Allie had put up holiday decorations at some point while she was here. A small tree covered with hot pink and silver ornaments stood in the corner, some garland had been draped over the fireplace mantle, and an unlit holiday candle sat on the kitchen counter. The place looked cheerful and festive, but it didn’t take away the emptiness inside me.
My apartment was supposed to be my safe space. I’d lived here for years, through my highest highs and lowest lows, but it no longer offered any of the comfort it used to provide.
My brain traveled back to Cole’s house. It wasn’t sleek and modern like the Manhattan apartments I was used to, but it was warm and cozy. The smell of coffee in the morning, his boots by the front door, and the sounds of him working on projects gave it a sense of home I’d been missing for a while.
What surprised me the most was how quickly I felt at ease there. I’d only been staying with him a short time, yet it had felt so natural, and we’d settled into a comfortable routine. Not having that anymore made the silence in my apartment seem even louder.
My laptop lay open on my desk waiting for me to get to work. The cursor was blinking at the end of the last line I’d typed before everything fell apart. Part of me wanted to drag my manuscript into the trash and pretend it had never existed. The story had cost me something I didn’t even know I wanted. And yet the other part of me couldn’t bear the thought of erasing all of the words that had finally flowed out of me.
Those pages were proof that what I felt for Cole was real. He may have hated that I’d written our story, but I couldn’t deny the truth playing out in every single scene. Zach and Nico weren’t just characters. They were us—or at least, the version of us I’d hoped was possible if we didn’t let worry take over and, instead, could just be honest with each other.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, torn between deleting the document or leaving it untouched. If I got rid of it, I would lose the only thing left tying me to Cole, but if I kept it, I’d have a constant reminder of how I single-handedly destroyed something good that I’d started to build.
I was still staring sightlessly at the screen when the apartment door opened. My head jerked up, and I saw Allie step in, her cheeks pink from the cold and her tote bag slung over one shoulder.
