“Why? Why is it ridiculous? The first time I laid eyes on your dad, I knew he was the one. I saw our future laid out. Sure, details were foggy, but our fate was there, certain as the rising sun.”
“Dad wasn’t engaged or unavailable when you met him.”
“True.” She wiped a tear off my cheek, her lips quirking. “So you fell in love, and the timing was terrible. But you didn’t act on that attraction, right?”
I shook my head.
“Good. But—”
“Cole.” Ellis walked through the back door. “Need help with that?”
My guts twisted. Mom gasped. We turned our heads at the same time, and thank the good Lord for Mom’s arms because my knees buckled at the sight.
Cole stood against the kitchen island, gripping the over-stuffed platter of meat, brows pinched, eyes dark, a thousand turbulent emotions encased in those golden globes.
Clueless, Ellis slapped his shoulder.
Still as a statue, he stood, holding me prisoner with the weight of that glare.
Lacey walked into the room, clapped her hands together, and said, “Oh, good. Steaks are done. I’m starving. Nat Brat, grab the salad out of the fridge.” She snatched a stack of plates off the counter. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s eat on the deck.”
Mom gave my fingers a squeeze, cleared her throat, then breezed past me and the men, as if Cole hadn’t just maybe, possibly—oh God, who was I kidding? He’d heard every word. Every crazy stupid syllable that came out of my mouth.
With a muttered, “Fuck,” Cole pinched his eyes closed, shook his head, and turned to follow Lacey.
Three deep breaths, and I made my way to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face before joining the others. We sat around the large round wrought iron table, Cole two bodies down.
We ate and laughed, and I pretended like my heart wasn’t breaking, or that my nerves weren’t shredded, and I avoided looking to my right at all costs.
Until Lacey said, “So, what are your plans tonight, Nat Brat?”
“Oh.” I shot a quick glance her way, Cole in my periphery. “I’m joining Finn and Mona for dinner before her show.”
Lacey’s smile fell, but she quickly recovered.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be by first thing in the morning to say goodbye. And I’ll be back for Thanksgiving.”
“And Christmas, too,” Dad interjected, brows raised as if I’d dare to challenge him.
“Of course.”
Leon’s wails brought all of our attention to the little white monitor at Ellis’s side. I pushed from the table, shouted, “He’s mine!” then dashed away before anyone could beat me to the baby.
When I returned, Cole was gone.
“Tonight I’m going to do something I rarely do on stage. But a new, and very dear friend of mine, made a special request. When I asked him why, and why this song, he simply said, “She’s home.” Mona dropped her head, took a measured breath, and cleared her throat, collectively enthralling the crowd.
“His cryptic response was so full of heartache and regret,” she continued. “I didn’t question further. So, my dear friend who wished to remain anonymous, this one’s for you.”
The spotlight changed from white to blue, then followed Mona to the piano. She sat. The room fell eerily silent.
Mona hit the keys at the same time her husky rasp hit the mic. She crooned the lyrics to “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak.
Riveted to my chair at the small table in front of the stage, I fell victim to the haunting melody. I thought of Cole and our one weekend together. I’d been so desperately, selflessly, irrepressibly in love.
I still was hopelessly, foolishly, obsessively in love.
Mona continued.
I blinked back tears, the lyrics flooding my veins with grief for the man I’d had for one perfect weekend.
Next to me, a chair scraped. A thigh bumped into mine, then settled warm against my leg, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the stage or my attention from the message. Whoever the song was for, I wanted to know their story. I’d have to torture the truth from Mona after her set.
A hand landed on my thigh, then moved to grab my arm, sliding down to entwine our fingers, stealing my breath and my wits. I knew those fingers, that strong grip, the scent of him intimately. Tears fell harder. If I looked his way, I’d shatter.
Seconds passed before I was composed enough to whisper, “What are you doing here?”
“You know what I’m doing here.”
Though I focused my blurry stare on Mona, the weight of Cole’s gaze heated me head to toe.
“Torturing me?”
His breath warmed my cheek. “You like the song?”
“Was it you?” I asked, turning, bringing our mouths painfully close.
“Fitting, don’t you think?”
The song was perfect if his intention was to slice me open.
“Tell me something, Natalie.” He let go of my hand, then settled his arm around my shoulder, cocooning me, caging me. “Do you miss me?”
A loaded question. “Cole, please. Don’t do this.”
Somewhere around us, applause, though the room stayed dark.
“Because I miss you. Every second of every goddamned day.” His chest rose and fell. “Do you know what it did to me, seeing you with that baby in your arms?” He pulled a strand of my hair through his fingers, toyed with the end. “Do you have any idea how you broke me, hearing you tell your mother that you loved me?”
Oh, God.
He cupped my face, his fingers trembling. “I needed those words from you, Natalie. You should have said them to me, not her.”
I managed to speak over the ferocious boom in my chest. “I couldn’t.”
“I know.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“Stay with me tonight,” he pleaded.
“That’s not a good idea.” He had my heart, he had my love, all of it. But what
