Listen to him throwing out platitudes that even he didn’t want to hear. He was nauseating himself.
They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Cole wasn’t good at consoling anyone—he’d yet to work through his own grief, and frankly, he’d come here to talk to his sister. And maybe to wallow a little.
“That was hard,” Connor said, his voice tight. “Getting up there again.”
“I would’ve stepped in for you,” Cole said. “Everyone would’ve understood.”
Connor took a swig from his bottle. “I needed to do it for Amelia.”
Cole stilled. “It was good you did. I’m glad she’s dancing again.”
“Thanks to you,” Connor said. “And Charlotte. She’s been amazing.”
“Yeah, amazing.” Cole didn’t hide the sarcasm.
“I was hard on her when she first got here,” Connor said. “Think she’ll forgive me?”
Cole shrugged. “Maybe she’s the one who should be asking for forgiveness.”
“No,” Connor said. “Without her, I never would’ve married Jules in the first place.”
Cole frowned. “How do you figure?”
“She’s the reason Jules left ballet,” Connor said.
“You know about that?”
He shrugged. “Sure, Jules told me.”
“Was she upset?”
Connor shifted. “I mean, yeah, but it didn’t take long for her attitude about it to change. I think she was relieved. A part of her was, anyway. She was tired of all that cutthroat pressure. She danced because she loved it. I told her she could do that here—that I’d help her. That’s when she started the dance studio.”
“So, she was okay with everything?”
Connor took another drink. “She was grateful, I think. Said that dream meant more to Charlotte than it had ever meant to her. She never had that same drive, you know? Jules just wanted to be happy. And I think she hoped it would turn something in Charlotte—make her a better person, knowing that someone had sacrificed so much for her.”
“Do you think it did?”
Connor shrugged. “No idea. She didn’t show up for Jules like she should’ve, but she seems different now. You’d know better than me, lover boy.”
Cole pulled a handful of grass and tossed it aside. “She didn’t tell me what she did to Jules. I just found out.”
“She’s probably embarrassed,” Connor said. “You guys are good together. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”
Cole stared at the headstone. Jules would’ve certainly had an opinion about all of this. He wished she were here now to tell him what to do. “She knows how I feel about lying. Maybe she and I are a mistake.”
“Why, because she has a past? Do I need to remind you that you do too?”
Cole sighed. It was more than that, wasn’t it? Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he’d put Charlotte on a pedestal, and this revelation made her human again. He’d told her real love didn’t have strings, but was he just blowing smoke? When it came down to it, did he actually believe women could make mistakes and still be trusted?
“Was it worth it?” Cole asked.
“Was what worth it?”
“If you’d known you were going to go through this—that it would end this way—would you still have built a life with my sister?”
Connor tossed the bottle aside. “You kidding? You know I would. Julianna was the best thing that ever happened to me. She loved me no matter what. And as much as it hurts right now, I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything.”
“I think she felt that way too.”
“I hope so,” Connor said. “I mean, look, man, there are no guarantees in life or in love. You know that as well as I do. All we can do is the best we can do. We can give ourselves completely to another person and they can stomp all over us or break our heart or die. But we learn from it and we move on. I mean, what’s the alternative?”
Cole had lived the alternative. It was lonely.
Connor stood.
“What are you doing?” Cole got up too.
“Walking home,” Connor said. “Jules may not be there anymore, but she’s not here either. And at least I can still see her in our kids’ faces. I owe it to them to pull myself together, and I owe it to her to make sure they never forget how remarkable their mother was.”
“Jules loved you more than anything.” Cole clapped a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder, realizing in that moment that what Charlotte had done had been a huge lapse in judgment, but it hadn’t ruined his sister’s life, not the way Marcia wanted him to believe it had.
He owed it to Charlotte to hear her out.
Lie or no lie, he wouldn’t run away just because life was messy.
Charlotte left the theatre and went straight to Cole’s house, but his truck wasn’t there and all the lights were off. She called him twice, but it went straight to voicemail, so she sent him a short text:
Let me explain.
But what was she going to say that would possibly justify not only her actions but her misrepresentation of herself?
Her stomach roiled. She’d brought this on herself. She should’ve been straightforward right from the start.
Knowing how Cole felt about honesty, she had a better chance of being eaten by a pack of wolves than she did of convincing him to forgive her, no matter what Hildy said. Maybe if she’d been the one to tell him it would be different, but Marcia had swooped in and ruined everything.
It would be easier on everyone if she left—but where would she go? Connor had agreed to sell her the studio. It was the whole reason she’d come. She didn’t want to throw that away.
Marcia’s words rushed back—“I’ll tell Martin to expect you on Monday morning.”
Did she dare?
How could she return to the ballet after all she’d been through? How could she pretend it was enough for her, that she’d happily marry her career, that she didn’t want anything else out of this life?
She’d gone searching for more—for something she didn’t deserve—and she’d found it in spades. She would never be able to pretend she hadn’t.
And she’d never be able to pretend she didn’t need Cole in her life.
But as much as she didn’t deserve his goodness, he didn’t deserve the pain she’d likely caused him by withholding the truth.
She had to at least try and explain.
She drove around town in a Honda Civic—her replacement rental car she’d picked up two weeks ago, looking for Cole’s truck, praying for some clue of where he might’ve gone, and praying that he’d give her a chance to tell the truth.
Too little, too late.
The words turned to fear as they raced through her mind.
The night was dark, and it started to rain. She rounded a corner and stopped in front of the cemetery. Cole’s truck was parked at the entrance.
She parked next to him, and the rain kicked up. She fished around in her back seat until she found her umbrella, a city-living staple.
Outside, the sky flashed like a strobe light and a low rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.