by Elise Faber
Not that he’d said them either.
But then again, he didn’t have the same hang ups I did.
Dr. L sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You’ve made a lot of progress over this last month and a half.”
Not enough to tell the man who’d become incredibly integral to my life that I had big feelings for him. Huge feelings. Giant, ginormous—
Well, that was a lot of synonyms, but the point was, my head was ready to leap and yet my heart was still holding back.
And he knew it.
He was being patient and not pushing, but every time I opened my mouth to tell him how much he meant to me—not even necessarily the big three words—I faltered, either clamming up or making some stupid joke and changing the subject.
I just couldn’t go through with it.
“Why do you think it’s so hard for you to tell him what he means to you, but easy for you to show him?”
I snorted. “That’s easy. Actions speak louder than words.”
“Stop,” Dr. L said. “And think. Of course, actions speak louder than words. While it’s good you’re showing him how important he is to you . . . humans also need words. You have to consider that at some point you two won’t be able to move forward without them.”
Damn.
“You’re right.”
She laughed. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
I sighed and leaned back in the chair, groaning. “I just don’t want to be broken anymore.”
She reached across the table, patted my hand. “That’s the thing. You’re not. You never were. People aren’t broken. They get hurt, yes, damaged, even. But you’re none of those things, Olivia.” Her voice gentled. “What you are is scared.”
I sighed. “That’s not exactly something I don’t know.”
“So why can you burst through every other barrier in your life, but not this one?”
“Ugh,” I exclaimed, seeing where she was going with this and feeling like it was just spinning me in circles I’d already been around. “He’s important. He can hurt me. He—”
I froze and she nodded encouragingly.
“He . . . reminds me of my dad.”
Dr. L sat back. “Bingo.”
My eyes burned, heart clenching and stomach knotting. “I’m scared to take the final step because if things don’t work out, it’ll be like losing my dad all over again.”
“And,” she murmured. “If things do work out and something happens to him, it’ll be the same.” She paused and I felt tears spill down my cheeks. “But what you have to consider is if having half of happy with Cole is enough.”
I shook my head, sob catching in my chest. “It’s not,” I said through my tears. “I want all of him.”
“And there’s your motivation to push through.”
I sniffed, dashing my hands across my cheeks. “But what if I can’t do it?”
“Then eventually you’ll lose him,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Is that something you can handle?”
My eyes were malfunctioning, that was why the fucking tears wouldn’t stop. Either that, or I’d just had the breakthrough I was looking for. “N-no.” I sniffed. “But I also don’t think I could handle loving him even more and then losing him in the end.”
“That, unfortunately, is the risk we all take with relationships.”
“Fuck.” My chest constricted.
“They’re not for the weak.” She squeezed my hand again. “But you’re not weak, are you, Olivia?”
I hung my head for a long moment, pushing down the sobs, wiping away the tears. “No,” I murmured. “I’m not.”
“I’m a bad ass bitch.”
Dr. L nodded. “Exactly.”
Eighteen
Cole
“Mom?” I said, swiping my finger across the screen and answering her call. She didn’t tend to phone during the week—leaving our weekly chats to Sundays—unless something was up. “Is everything okay?”
Her voice was warm sunshine and my childhood all at once, especially when the tone went slightly scolding. “You’re asking me that?” she accused. “You’re the one who has missed our weekly calls.”
Shit.
“Five calls, Cole!” she exclaimed. “And you only texted me on two of the others! I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I was busy yesterday and forgot. I’ve been working with the Gold and then there was an issue with the ranch—”
“Nope.”
I blinked, unlocking the door to my condo and pushing inside. “What?”
“You didn’t forget,” she said. “You’re seeing someone.”
“Mom—”
“Shitcan the excuses and tell me the truth. Who is she? Or he?”
“Not a he,” I said, then immediately realized my mistake. I’d just confirmed there was a woman. “Or a she. There’s not anyone.”
“Oh, there’s a she.” My mom sounded positively gleeful at the prospect of someone in my life. Part of me didn’t blame her. I’d dated around a lot when I was younger, trying to ignore the draw I had to Olivia. Then I’d swung the other way, becoming almost celibate while trying to regroup and figure out what I should do with my life when it was clear Olivia wasn’t on the table.
But now she was and—
My inner monologue had lasted too long because my mom screeched into my ear, “Oh my God! You’ve finally found a good one!”
I winced, pulling the cell away while she carried on. My mom was a lot of things—hard-working, fun, kind—but she was not and had never been quiet. When the noises eventually stopped erupting from the speaker, I put it back up to my ear. “Mom.”
I heard a zipper in the background. “I’m coming up to meet her.”
“Mom.”
“I’ll be on a flight later this afternoon.”
“M—”
The line went dead.
“Fuck,” I muttered, setting down the bag of groceries I’d bought on the counter and typing out a quick text to Olivia. The flight from San Diego was barely more than an hour, add in packing time—my mom would make sure that was minimal—plus check-in, security, and boarding, and she’d be here by early evening.
Not the way I’d wanted to spend my night.
I loved my mom, was glad to have her visit, but Olivia and I were still figuring things out. I wanted them to be rock-solid before I put her under any scrutiny, so for my mom to come up at that moment was—
Fuck.
An unneeded complication.
I struggled for a minute to find the right words.
My mom is unexpectedly in town and wants to meet you in real life, rather than just on the phone. If it’s too much, I’ll put her off. If it’s fine, come to my place for dinner.
Clunky, but hopefully the correct thing to say.
I put the groceries away, dealt with some emails, then a few problems at the ranch. No response to my text. But I told myself she was probably just busy, so I buckled down and did other things. I spoke to Dev about another new endorsement deal, got it on the schedule, ordered some shit on Amazon that Olivia had at her place so my condo would feel less frat boy and more homey for her. Then I threw some steaks—three. I threw three steaks because though I was worried it was too much, I was still hopefuly—into some marinade and stuck them in the fridge.
It was when there was still no response from Olivia, when I dialed her number and was sent straight to voicemail that I realized the three streaks were probably optimistic.
Too much.
Too fast.
Pushing when I promised patience.
Fuck. I’d seriously fucked things up.
Nineteen
Olivia
My eyes burned, my throat felt like I’d gone down on a flamethrower, and every muscle in my body ached.
Also, I’d broken a heel.
Thankfully, not on my Louboutins, but then again, that was what I got f
or not wearing my favorites. But I’d switched—unhappily—to the emergency flats I kept in my purse and had taken a Lyft to Cole’s place anyway.
I needed to talk to him, to keep the courage I’d found in Dr. L’s office and lay it out there. See where the chips fell. Yes, I was pretty certain he was in the same boat as me, emotions-wise, but I couldn’t lie and pretend I wasn’t praying that the reason he’d stuck was because he loved me just as completely.
But I also knew that sometimes life just didn’t work out.
The difference was I’d learned many things about myself over the last month and a half, had them reinforced by Dr. L and Becca, and even Cole, with his patience and care. My past hadn’t made them change their opinions of me and it hadn’t made them like me any less. Even after I’d told Becca everything, she hadn’t looked at me like I was bad, just as when she’d told me about her depression, I didn’t think less of her. Why I’d never put the pieces together in that way, treating myself with the same courtesy as I would treat a friend, I didn’t know.
All I did know was that when Dr. Larsen had pointed it out during that first session, after I’d laid everything I could think of on the table, including Becca telling me her struggles then giving me her appointment time, I’d sat back on the couch, stunned.
“Why does Becca have more worth than you?”
Because I’m not good inside, I’d wanted to reply.
But I hadn’t. I’d bit my tongue and thought, quiet and hard and long. Because I knew I wasn’t bad inside, because my mother’s voice in my mind was fading. Being with Cole, seeing him look at me like I was good, had reminded me of the way my dad had loved me. It was painful in a way, ripping off a Band-Aid and exposing my wounds to the air.
But it was also good.
Because I wasn’t locked up and shut down. I was finally opening myself up.
No, I wasn’t finding my self-worth in others. Instead, it was almost like a fog was clearing and I could finally see myself clearly—flaws, positives, silly quirks, and all.
So, when I had eventually replied to Dr. L, it had been, “She doesn’t.”
And I think it was the first time in my life I’d meant it.
But finding the courage to bare myself to Cole wasn’t so easy. He meant . . . everything. I wanted him quite desperately in my life, and also knew that it would up the stakes and change everything.
“That, unfortunately, is the risk we all take with relationships.”
Yes, it was.
And I was done with this waffling, scaredy-cat bullshit.
I’d trusted my instincts for years . . . and today I’d trust them with Cole.
Nodding to myself, I got out of the Lyft and strode through the lobby of his complex. I needed to talk to him about my past, let him know I was working on opening up, but that our road would be far from bump-free. And . . . I had to tell him that even though I was a work in progress, I was still a catch he’d be lucky to have, and so he needed to watch his step.
Once a confident bitch, always a confident bitch.
But at least this time, my confident bitchiness wasn’t a shield. It was who I was inside.
Bitch—some said it like an insult.
Me? It was a way of life. I could be strong and speak my mind. I could be tough, not take any shit. But I could also be soft and allow someone into my heart.
And I could also want to be loved for all of those things.
Smiling, I rode the elevator up to his place, glad the key fob he’d given me recently made it easier. I’d protested, thinking I wasn’t the kind of girl who would use it to just pop in. But then again, I seemed to be exceeding all of my expectations lately.
The doors opened with a faint ding, and I turned to the right, hurrying to Cole’s condo.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to talk to him.
Then I wanted to kiss him some more.
I knocked, because despite my progress, I still wasn’t quite ready to barge into his condo.
“I’ve got it,” I heard a feminine voice call from inside.
Frowning, I leaned back, double-checked the condo number. But, no, this was Cole’s place. And then it was too late. Footsteps echoed through the floors, the lock was undone, and a beautiful woman with a full head of blonde hair and warm brown eyes opened the door.
“Hi,” she said, startling me with the sheer volume of her voice.
It was loud. It was cheerful. It was a lot.
I blinked, mentally shook myself. “Hi. Um, is Cole here?”
“Cole, sweetheart,” the woman called. “It’s for you.” Then she took my hand and tugged me inside. “I’m Penny.”
I frowned, head tilting to the side. There was something familiar about her voice.
“I’m Olivia.”
“Olivia!” she exclaimed and then I was being hugged by a beautiful woman who was in Cole’s condo. A beautiful woman who was leading me around like she’d been here many times before, who was comfortable in his space. My throat constricted. My stomach tied itself into knots.
Had I misjudged this entire situation?
Were Cole and I not—
Of course we weren’t. I might love him, but our actual relationship had spanned less than two months.
He’d never made any promises in return.
Oh, I was such an idiot.
She squeezed a little harder and, reflexively, I wrapped my arms around her in return. Anything to end the contact. Anything to make it so I could get the hell out of this condo.
That loud, booming voice gentled as she stepped back and looked me over, kindness in her gaze. “It’s so nice to finally meet you in person, sweetheart.”
In person. I frowned, opened my mouth to—
The pieces finally clicked.
Sweetheart.
Honey.
Blonde hair.
Brown eyes. Warm, brown eyes.
Oh.
She’d looked so young on a quick glance, but there were fine lines around those eyes, a faint smattering of creases on her forehead, a few strands of gray hidden in that blonde hair. She was so beautiful that I hadn’t realized at first.
She was Cole’s mom.
“I love your son.”
It was a blurt.
“Did you say something—?” An ill-timed blurt that was punctuated by Cole coming out of the hall bare-chested, his bottom half wrapped only in a towel. He froze, took one look at me and his mom, and I saw the panic ripple across his face.
I was enjoying the view but definitely didn’t enjoy the panic.
Or not much, anyway.
“This isn’t what you think it is,” he said.
I fought a smile. “You mean, you wrapped only in a towel, a beautiful woman who’s not me making herself at home in your condo?”
He paled.
“Or you springing a visit from your mom on me without warning when I look like this.” I pointed to my face, no doubt still reddened and puffy then my shoes, the despicable flats.
I watched the relief course over him as he closed the distance between us. “You’re beautiful no matter what you wear,” he murmured. “And maybe you should check your phone, honey. I left you messages.” He took me in his arms.
“Oh.”
“Plus, she sprung it on me, too.” His lips brushed against mine—
Click.
We both jumped, and Cole glared over at his mom. “Really?”
She patted both of our arms. “You’ll thank me later. You two go talk. I’ll fix dinner.”
“Mom—”
“Shh,” she ordered. “Go on.” But as Cole took one of my hands, she grabbed the other and squeezed lightly. “Cole’s right, sweetheart, you’re beautiful.” Another squeeze. “Inside and out.”
Instantly, my eyes filled with tears, my head starting to shake.
She released my hand to cup my cheek, and I understood in that moment where her son had learned to be so wonderful. Her smile was wide and a little mischievous. “Ask my son if you
don’t believe me. But I’m kind of an expert on people. And you’re a good one.”
I surprised myself by dropping Cole’s hand and wrapping my arms around her.
“Thank you for saying that,” I told her. “You can’t know how much it means to me.” Penny’s expression was gentle when I pulled back. “Just know that normally I’m not such a sappy mess. It’s just that your son stole my—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Cole muttered.
“Heart.”
He sucked in a breath.
I went on, “And that I finally found the courage to tell him.”
Penny nodded. “You love my son.”
Cole’s jaw dropped open at her nonchalant declaration, but I found that I liked Penny immensely and didn’t care too much that she’d spilled the beans. Hell, I was the one who’d gone full-blurt first.
Plus, now the pressure was off and—
“Right. That’s enough.” Cole took my hand, started tugging me toward his bedroom.
“You two take your time,” she said. “I’ll just holler when dinner is ready.”
“I think you should go out to dinner, Mom,” Cole called. “Or maybe back to San Diego until you’re invited.”
“Cole McTavish,” Penny and I both exclaimed at once.
Everyone froze.
Only Penny and I began laughing.
Cole just glowered at us.
“Right,” Penny said. “I think I will catch that last fight of the evening.” She walked over to her purse, picked it up, then snagged her jacket from a hook on the wall.
Cole growled, started towing me forward again, only this time it was back toward his mom.
“Mrs. McTavish?” I asked when we were close.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Thanks for raising such a good son.”
“Honey.” Cole’s voice raised goose bumps on my arms, but Penny simply pressed a kiss to my cheek then Cole’s.
“Bye, dears.”
“Mom,” Cole began.
“I’m ordering a Lyft as we speak,” she said, opening the door. “I’ll call you both soon.”
Another revelation.
A mom that I hadn’t had. And maybe a mom I could have.
