Page 11 of Echoes of Us

T hree days. It had been three days since Ashley had woken up in the surreal reality of her past, and she still felt like she was teetering on the edge of madness.

The clock ticked loudly on the wall, a reminder of how little time she had to figure out this mess. But studying was a necessary evil. Even in this bizarre alternate timeline, her career mattered. She couldn’t let it all fall apart just because she’d somehow landed back in college.

Her pen hovered over her notes as her thoughts wandered. She’d been looking for Cole everywhere. Three days of roaming the campus, scanning every face in the crowd, hoping for the faintest glimpse of him. Nothing. Not even a whisper.

Dale, on the other hand, was everywhere.

She’d run into him twice–once in the dining hall, where he’d politely asked if she needed help finding anything, and once on the quad, where he’d waved at her like they were old friends.

Each encounter made her chest tighten and her heart ache with longing and confusion.

She tapped her pen against the notebook, her frustration building to a breaking point. Finally, she snapped.

“Where the hell is Cole?” she burst out, her voice louder than she’d intended.

Sarah jumped, nearly knocking over her stack of books. She glared at Ashley, her green eyes narrowing. “What is this weird sudden obsession with the Westwoods? Aren’t you still moping over Charlie?”

Ashley closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. She missed her husband, her life, and her baby. She missed everything. And the last thing she wanted to deal with was Sarah bringing up Charlie again.

“I didn’t remember you being so annoying,” Ashley muttered, her tone sharp.

Sarah gaped at her, her freckled face scrunching into an expression of mock offense. “And I don’t remember you being so mean. Seriously, what’s gotten into you?”

Ashley rubbed her temples, her head pounding. “I just… need to find him.”

“Find who? Cole?” Sarah scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If you’re so desperate to throw yourself at him, you know exactly what to do. Just don’t come back crying when he dumps your ass.”

Ashley stiffened, the words cutting sharper than Sarah could have intended. That was an… interesting way to describe Cole. Her Cole.

“Enlighten me,” Ashley said, her voice low. “What should I do if I want to… fuck Cole?” The word felt foreign and wrong on her tongue. What she and Cole shared wasn’t casual. It wasn’t just… that. It was love. It was a connection. It was everything. And she missed it.

Sarah snorted, tossing her notebook into her bag. “Go to practically any party. He’ll be there.”

“Cole goes to parties?” Ashley asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Sarah paused, her brow arching. “Where have you been? The guy practically lives for them. Beer pong, hookups, general douchebaggery–you name it.”

Ashley’s chest tightened, a wave of nausea rolling through her. This didn’t sound like her husband. This sounded like someone she didn’t know at all, and she didn’t buy into it one bit.

“Lunchtime,” Sarah announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Care to join?”

Ashley shook her head, staring down at her open notebook. “I’ll catch up later.”

* * *

Ashley wandered through the campus aimlessly, the spring breeze carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers.

The trees overhead were bursting with fresh green leaves, their branches swaying gently under the clear blue sky.

Students lounged on the grassy lawns, their laughter mixing with the distant hum of a lawnmower.

It was idyllic, almost painfully so.

Ashley’s thoughts churned as she walked, her hands stuffed into her pockets.

The Yale campus was stunning, but it wasn’t hers.

She turned a corner and stepped into the main quad, the sunlight casting golden patches over the stone paths.

Laughter drew her attention to a group of guys tossing a football near the center of the courtyard.

Her steps faltered, her breath catching in her throat.

Cole.

He stood at the heart of the group, his dark hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He was lean and athletic, his broad shoulders framed by a fitted T-shirt that clung to his chest. His movements were effortless as he caught the football in midair, his gray eyes alight with laughter.

Ashley’s heart stuttered, her stomach flipping at the sight of him. She drank in every detail–his quick smile, the way his muscles shifted under his shirt, the way he carried himself with a confidence that felt both familiar and foreign.

This was, and wasn’t her Cole.

Her gaze drifted to the sidelines, where a group of girls watched with unabashed admiration.

They were beautiful–long legs, flawless hair, and lean figure.

One of them, a blonde with perfect waves and a figure that made Ashley’s own insecurities flare, leaned toward Cole, her laughter ringing out as she brushed her hand against his arm.

Ashley’s chest tightened, jealousy stabbing through her like a knife.

This was wrong.

Her fists clenched as she took an involuntary step forward, her body moving before her mind caught up. She wanted to rip the blonde’s hand away, to remind her–and Cole–that he wasn’t hers to touch.

But before she could act, the football smacked into Cole’s face with a loud thud.

Ashley froze as Cole stumbled back, his hand flying to his face.

“Westwood, you good?” one of the guys called, laughter bubbling in his voice.

Cole straightened, grinning despite the red mark blooming across his cheek. He ran a finger over his bloody lower lip, the motion slow and deliberate.

Ashley’s breath caught, her heart stuttering in her chest as her gaze locked onto his. The world seemed to be still, the bustling campus fading into nothing but the wild, unrelenting pull of his eyes.

Cole.

The name whispered through her mind like a prayer, like a plea.

His gray eyes, so achingly familiar, burned with a freedom she’d never seen before, a recklessness that sent a jolt through her core.

He was younger, sharper, his smile lazy and untamed.

He looked like a man who owned the world and didn’t care if it crumbled beneath his feet.

Her body betrayed her, a flush rising to her cheeks as a heat pooled low in her abdomen.

It wasn’t fair–the way he could command her entire being with just one look, the way her body remembered him even if he didn’t remember her.

The sparks were instant, a live wire snapping between them, and she felt the weight of his gaze like a touch, brushing against her skin and leaving her raw and wanting.

This was Cole. She knew it with every part of her. No one else could unravel her so effortlessly. No one else could make her body sing with just a single stare.

But then his gaze shifted.

Her breath hitched, the connection snapping as his attention moved to the blonde at his side.

She was stunning–legs for days, perfect waves of hair that caught the sunlight like it belonged to her.

She leaned into him, her manicured hand brushing his jaw, her lips moving as she cooed over the mark blooming on his cheek.

Something inside Ashley shattered.

Hurt and jealousy crashed through her so violently she had to steady herself. It was irrational, and she knew that. This Cole didn’t know her, didn’t owe her anything. But the ache in her chest didn’t care for logic.

He was hers.

Her fists clenched, her nails biting into her palms as she forced herself to stay rooted in place. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

And yet, as her knees threatened to buckle, she couldn’t help but stare. Couldn’t help but feel like the universe had stolen something precious from her, only to flaunt it in front of her like a cruel joke.

Despite herself, she took another step forward, intent on ripping the blonde’s hand away, but a voice called her name from behind.

“Ashley!”

Ashley turned sharply, her pulse still pounding from the whirlwind of emotions Cole had unleashed moments ago. Her heart clenched as she found herself face-to-face with Dale.

His gray eyes, softer than Cole’s but no less captivating, met hers with a warmth that sent a ripple of unease through her chest. He stood there, calm and steady, the complete opposite of the wild recklessness she’d just witnessed.

“We can’t seem to stop running into each other lately,” he said, his tone light, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Ashley swallowed hard, her breath hitching. Her mind was still stuck on Cole–the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d looked away–and now Dale was here, so familiar yet so different. All she could manage was a small nod.

Dale glanced over her shoulder, his gaze landing on the courtyard. “My brother is as helpless as ever, I see.”

His words jolted her. Of course, he’d been watching, seeing the same scene she had. Did he notice the blonde? Did he notice the way Cole had captured her entire being with just one look?

Ashley hummed in agreement, her throat tightening as she struggled to keep her voice even.

“Do you know him?” Dale asked, his curiosity apparent. “Cole, I mean. He’s one year your senior.”

Ashley’s stomach twisted painfully at the question. Did she know him? Yes. She knew him better than anyone, better than Dale ever would. But here, in this strange, impossible version of her life, she didn’t.

“I…” she began, but her words faltered, caught in her throat.

Dale raised a hand quickly, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. You just seemed so upset–I thought maybe he hurt you.”

“Cole? Hurt me? Never,” she said, the words leaving her lips before she could think. They were instinctive, immediate, a truth she knew to her core.

Dale blinked, his brows knitting together for a moment before his features softened into a small, bemused smile. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something Ashley couldn’t quite place.

Her gaze lingered on him longer than she meant to, her mind still tangled in the heat and chaos of Cole’s presence. Dale was different. Gentler, calmer.

She couldn’t deny the pang of recognition when she looked at him–the familiarity of the eyes, the way he carried himself. It wasn’t Dale she wanted; it was Cole. And yet, standing here, the energy of her earlier encounter still buzzing through her veins, she couldn’t quite separate the two.

“Have you chosen your major yet?” Dale asked, his voice breaking through her thoughts, shifting the conversation with ease.

“Behavioral Science,” she replied automatically, her voice steadier now.

“You sound so sure,” he said, tilting his head slightly, studying her. “Think well. You only get this opportunity once in your life.”

His words struck a chord, making her pause. She almost laughed at the irony–she’d already lived this life once. And yet… he made her wonder if she was missing something.

“I’m considering minoring in physics,” she blurted, surprising herself with the words. She didn’t really consider it, but now that she said it, it did make sense. She could possibly even get closer to Cole.

Dale’s brows lifted, his smile brightening. “I can recommend some courses if you’re interested. I’ll be a TA next semester.”

Ashley nodded, her thoughts swirling. This wasn’t about Dale, this was about Cole.

She felt bad even thinking about it–she didn’t want to use Dale to get to Cole. She was interested in getting to know him too. But if getting to know Dale helped her get closer to Cole, then she’d take the opportunity.

As they walked together, Dale’s voice wove effortlessly through the quiet, his words like a steady rhythm against the chaos still storming in her chest. His presence grounded her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

Though her heart belonged to Cole, tethered to him so fiercely that even the thought of him sent a pang through her chest, the warmth she found in Dale’s company seeped into the cracks of her resolve, brushing against the raw edges of her grief and longing.

The ease of talking to Dale unsettled her, calming her in ways she didn’t want to admit. Those familiar gray eyes weren’t Cole’s, but they comforted her all too well.

That comfort pained her even more, and as they walked, the ache for her husband burned brighter, sharper, a reminder of who she was here for–and who she was desperately trying to save.