"Cole?" Shit, his eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he was about to cry some more as he buried his face in his hands. I couldn't take it. I couldn't take his pain. I never could see him like this and breathe easy. He took things way too hard. "What's the matter?" I asked, my own voice clogging with unshed tears because his agony clawed at my insides.
He shook his head and I noticed his fist was clutched around a white folded page. Fuck. She had given him the letter already? I thought she would wait a few days, avoid him or something and then break it to him gently. I hated that bitch for doing this to him. It didn't matter that she had done it for me after my unplanned emotional outburst that morning. This never would have happened if she had just told him 'no' from the start.
"Tell me what you need," I urged earnestly, disliking this feeling of helplessness. Would he hate me now for driving her away?
Cole finally looked up at me with a blank stare and asked, "Do you want to drink with me?"
I blinked at him. "What? You don't drink," I reminded him because he was always so adamant about taking good care of his health.
"I want to. Please."
I sucked in my bottom lip between my teeth and nodded after a while. "Okay. What do you want?"
He shrugged, looking lost and defeated and loosened his tie. "Whatever you've got."
Minutes later, we were seated together watching a game on TV while Cole went through my bottle of Jack Daniels like it was water and he had been trapped in a desert for months.
"Slow down, buddy," I said quietly and he frowned at his glass.
"Can't believe she fucking left," he gritted and exhaled loudly. "She promised me she'll try."
I licked my dry lips and ran my fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort. "I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean for-"
"It's not your fault, Wells."
I paused and frowned at him. So she had not told him the part where all of this was technically my fault. I did not want to respect her for that but begrudgingly, I did. She could have told him about what I said but she had chosen not to. I was lucky. For that reason and also because Cole trusted me so much, he never for a moment thought I had something to do with her departure.
But it would be fine. He would get over her. It was all one big mistake, anyway. He couldn't love her that much.
He fell asleep in my arms two hours later with the bottle dangling from his fingers and Skye's name on his lips, her wrinkled farewell letter lying on the floor.
~~~
Skye
I absently watched the heavy traffic on the street outside and sipped my hot latte. It was cold and windy this morning. My hair was tied up in a messy bun, I was huddled in a huge sweater paired with leggings and this was the first time in a week I had ventured out of the house.
I missed Cole so much. He had grown on me. His smiles and cocksure attitude, the tenderness and wickedness I saw brimming in his green eyes when he looked at me. He would have cherished me. I knew that now. Would have treated me like a fucking queen.
But I didn't want to build my happiness by breaking anybody else's heart over and over again. I didn't want to do that to Jasper no matter how much of an asshole he was to me.
Cole had called me so many times and left messages. He had even shown up at my door once but I had pretended not to be home. I had already told Marco I couldn't work for him anymore due to sudden, unexpected commitments.
I snorted, sipping at my coffee. I was committed all right. Committed to moping around and feeling sorry for myself. Aching for someone who was never even mine to begin with. I didn't know how many paintings I had created in just this one week. Nothing but dark vibes and misery emanating from the canvas.
"I'll have what she's having," I heard a familiar and unwelcome voice say.
Looking up, I spotted Jasper Wells walking away from Mateo and towards me with long, determined strides, dressed in a blue sweater and jeans with his blond hair messily flying around in the wind. He had a camera hanging around his neck and carried a laptop.
I groaned as he approached and slumped my head on the table, hearing him take out a chair and sit down without even asking for an invitation.
"Come to gloat, lover boy?" I asked in a muffled voice.
"I've been looking for you," he told me in his gravelly, Gerard Butler one.
I managed to roll my eyes. "I haven't spoken to your boyfriend. I haven't touched him or gone near him. I haven't done anything. Please leave me alone."
There was a moment's pause.
"Skye? Look at me."
Slowly, I raised my head and did as he asked. Jasper's eyes roamed my face, probably taking in the dark circles, untidy hair and lack of make-up.
"What?"
He licked his lips and shrugged. "I wonder what he sees in you," he had the audacity to say and it made me burn inside with indignation. Motherfucker.
"Same thing you probably saw that day when I was in my bikini on the rooftop," I shot back with a glint in my eye. "You looked like somebody glued your eyes to my body. I wonder what Cole would say if he knew about that."
Jasper straightened and his gaze lowered to the tabletop. Mateo brought out his order, gave us both a curious look, remembered to wink
