Cole was in the shower. So, naturally, I picked up the phone.
“Alyssa. Trainer.”
Underneath was the message that split something inside me.
“Sweetheart, I can’t wait for our next meeting. ❤️ We’re going to the hotel by the lake this weekend, right? 💋”
**
I should have set the phone back down.
Instead, I held it like evidence, like maybe staring at it long enough would somehow fix things.
Footsteps moved down the hallway. I stayed planted in the kitchen.
Cole walked in with damp hair, sweatpants, and a towel over his shoulder. He looked relaxed, completely comfortable, like nothing in the world was wrong.
He noticed the phone in my hand and frowned briefly but simply reached past me for a glass in the cupboard.
“Cole,” I said, watching him.
He didn’t respond. He filled the glass, took a drink, then glanced at me like I was standing in his way.
