Page 51
Story: Only Ever His
“You too!” she said with a wave, disappearing into the evening.
As I locked up the boutique, the weight of the day pressed down on me.
The worry, the memories, the fear—all of it swirled together until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I turned the key and sighed, leaning against the door.
“Tori.”
The sound of his voice made me turn, relief washing over me like a wave.
Cole stood a few feet away, his tall frame bathed in the warm glow of the streetlights.
His smile was soft, his dark eyes warm as they met mine.
He closed the distance between us in a few strides and kissed me, his hands resting gently on my hips.
“Hey,” he murmured against my lips.
I didn’t realize how much I needed that until it happened. The tension in my chest loosened just enough for me to breathe.
“Hey,” I said back, my voice quieter than I intended.
“Ready for dinner?” Cole asked.
I nodded, grateful for the distraction he offered. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
We walked down the quiet street to one of my favorite restaurants, a cozy little place that served the best homemade pasta in town.
Inside, the soft glow of candles lit the tables, and the scent of garlic and fresh herbs filled the air.
We were seated in a corner booth, and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax.
But as the waiter brought our drinks, I noticed something off about Cole. His shoulders were a little too stiff, his jaw a little too tight.
He was trying to mask it, but I knew him well enough by now to see the signs.
“Are you okay?” I asked, leaning forward slightly.
He glanced at me, his expression softening.
“Yeah. Just a lot on my mind,” Cole admitted.
I hesitated, my thoughts circling back to the black roses. I’d been debating all day whether to tell him.
Part of me didn’t want to—Cole could be so protective, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with his reaction.
But another part of me knew I couldn’t keep this to myself.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, my voice quiet.
He set his drink down, his full attention on me now. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath, my fingers twisting in my lap. “Last night, I found something on my doorstep. A bouquet of black roses.”
His entire demeanor shifted. His eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened. “Black roses?”
I nodded. “Marcus’s favorite. There wasn’t a note, but… I know it was him. He wanted me to know he hasn’t let go,” I said.
As I locked up the boutique, the weight of the day pressed down on me.
The worry, the memories, the fear—all of it swirled together until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I turned the key and sighed, leaning against the door.
“Tori.”
The sound of his voice made me turn, relief washing over me like a wave.
Cole stood a few feet away, his tall frame bathed in the warm glow of the streetlights.
His smile was soft, his dark eyes warm as they met mine.
He closed the distance between us in a few strides and kissed me, his hands resting gently on my hips.
“Hey,” he murmured against my lips.
I didn’t realize how much I needed that until it happened. The tension in my chest loosened just enough for me to breathe.
“Hey,” I said back, my voice quieter than I intended.
“Ready for dinner?” Cole asked.
I nodded, grateful for the distraction he offered. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
We walked down the quiet street to one of my favorite restaurants, a cozy little place that served the best homemade pasta in town.
Inside, the soft glow of candles lit the tables, and the scent of garlic and fresh herbs filled the air.
We were seated in a corner booth, and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax.
But as the waiter brought our drinks, I noticed something off about Cole. His shoulders were a little too stiff, his jaw a little too tight.
He was trying to mask it, but I knew him well enough by now to see the signs.
“Are you okay?” I asked, leaning forward slightly.
He glanced at me, his expression softening.
“Yeah. Just a lot on my mind,” Cole admitted.
I hesitated, my thoughts circling back to the black roses. I’d been debating all day whether to tell him.
Part of me didn’t want to—Cole could be so protective, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with his reaction.
But another part of me knew I couldn’t keep this to myself.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, my voice quiet.
He set his drink down, his full attention on me now. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath, my fingers twisting in my lap. “Last night, I found something on my doorstep. A bouquet of black roses.”
His entire demeanor shifted. His eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened. “Black roses?”
I nodded. “Marcus’s favorite. There wasn’t a note, but… I know it was him. He wanted me to know he hasn’t let go,” I said.
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