Page 136 of The Exit Strategy

Retaliate before they can break me.

Strike first. Ask questions later.

My thumb twirls the ring I still haven’t removed, and something shifts—a slight change of perspective.

Or maybe it’s me that’s changed.

I don’t know when it happened. The day I stopped fucking with Cole’s coffee? When I stopped calling him Whittaker? When I let him in?

I let him in.

Last night, we talked about my mom after he acknowledged we were on a date.

I just…gave in.

I took that first step.

I told him things about my mother I haven’t said out loud in years. And Cole—he listened the way I’ve always needed someone to, without trying to fix it.

But while I was expelling ghosts, he held on to his. He still hasn’t told me about Natalie, or what’s keeping him in a glass cage.

Maybe I’ve been too selfish. Maybe I’ve been scared to ask. Now, not asking feels like a character flaw too, and I file it away the way Cole does everything else—for later. Not today, but soon.

I wasn’t a crier before I landed in The Haven, but moisture burns my eyes, and it’s starting to feel like a betrayal too.

The reality is, I’m finally getting to know myself without all the…armor. Without the walls and anger.

With Cole, I’m a version of myself that’s almost hard to recognize, mostly because I think I might even like her.

I’m not sure I’ve ever liked myself before.

Is this what growth feels like? Painful but necessary?

Six months ago, knowing that someone was keeping a secret from me would’ve sent me spiraling, running, and setting off bombs before their secret could hurt me.

Last night, I sat at dinner with a man who has already hurt me, who acknowledged he’s keeping a secret, and I…stayed.

Somehow, I knew it was different than all the betrayals of my past because when Cole causes pain, he hurts himself too.

I’m sure of it.

He has his own demons—ones he isn’t willing to share yet—just like I do.

Twisting in Cole’s arms, I find my phone charging on the nightstand. Not only did he carry me to bed, but he also…took care of me.

Warmth spreads through my limbs, uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

I need a distraction. My brain is trying to spiral the way it does when it can’t solve a problem—and right now, I have many to choose from.

I can’t force Cole to tell me his secrets.

But I can fix the issue with Devin.

I glance over my shoulder at Cole, who has adjusted his grip and now has his forearm pressed to my belly, his hand loosely curled around my sternum. He’s cocooned around me like a spider monkey, and I don’t hate it.

I never would’ve guessed that Cole Whittaker was a cuddler—or that I’d welcome it.

What would it be like to just…stay here forever?