Page 38 of Broken Silence
“They will. I’ll tell them that in public he was generous, charming, honest, loyal, and trustworthy. Everything everyone believed. Cole, he played the perfect husband, father, and friend. That was why he was able to get away with it for so long. He was my hero until the age of five, and that’s exactly what I’ll say.”
“How can you say nice things about him?”
“Because it’s the truth, and that’s what makes what he did so much worse.”
He nodded and picked up his drink again. “You don’t want to go back to the bar, right? I can take you home,” Cole said, reading me like a book.
“Thank you. Sorry I ruined your night.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Seeing you drunk was definitely worth it.”
I didn’t feel drunk at all anymore. The world was moving slightly slower than normal, but apart from that, I felt fine. That could’ve been due to all the physical contact we were having.
“Well, thanks. I can get a taxi back alone if you want to stay.”
“No,” he replied, frowning like I’d said something ridiculous.
“You’d rather drink hot chocolate and go home early?”
“With anyone else, no.”
“I’m privileged.”
“You should be,” he replied, grinning.
We finished our drinks and left café. Opposite was a row of taxis, ready to take drunk people home.
Cole gave the address to the driver and opened the back door for me. He slid in after. I snatched a few moments to really look at him as the drive raced down the road. He was even more attractive now, something I didn’t think could be possible.
“How did you get that?” I asked, noticing a small, faint scar on his jaw illuminated by the streetlights outside the car. That definitely hadn’t been there four years ago. If I hadn’t been looking so closely, I would never have noticed it.
His finger brushed over the scar. I longed to do the same. “Ben. We were paintballing last year, and he shot me in the face. It bled like a bitch.”
“Don’t you have to wear protective gear for that?”
“You’re supposed to, but apparently that’s pussy paintballing. Ben changed his mind after I shot him in the forehead for revenge.”
“Mature.”
He shrugged. “It’s Ben, and it fucking hurt.”
The taxi pulled into Ali’s drive, and I suddenly wished we had gone back to the bar. Our night was over.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
I nodded. “Definitely. You still want me to view the house?”
“I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.”
“Great.” I bit my lip, staring into his eyes and wishing he could come in with me.
Cole shuffled in his seat, and I was hyperaware of the crackling air between us. So was the driver who cleared his throat, wanting this fare over.
“Bye,” I whispered, getting out of the car with burning cheeks.
“Bye, baby,” he called before I shut the door.
The next day, after picking the key up from the estate agent, Cole and I arrived at the house. I’d only seen pictures he’d shown me, but I already loved it and could see him there.
