Page 29 of Echoes of Us

A shley found Margaret Westwood in the physics building's coffee shop on a muggy August morning.

She almost missed her at first - the elegant woman seemed out of place among the scattered graduate students hunched over laptops, her cream blazer and perfectly styled hair a stark contrast to their rumpled summer wear.

But there was no mistaking those sharp features, the same ones Cole and Dale had inherited in slightly different ways.

Ashley's steps faltered. She hadn't seen Cole and Dale's mother since graduation, and even then, only from a distance. The woman sat alone, stirring her coffee with precise movements, her attention fixed on some papers spread across the small table.

Making a quick decision, Ashley turned to leave. But Margaret's voice, cool and certain, cut through the quiet murmur of the cafe.

"Miss Carter."

Ashley's heart stuttered. She hadn't realized Margaret even knew her name.

"Mrs. Westwood," she managed, turning back.

Margaret gestured to the empty chair across from her. It wasn't quite a request, but neither was it quite a command. "Join me. I've been meaning to speak with you."

Margaret's perfume - something expensive and floral - wrapped around them as Ashley sank into the chair, her iced coffee sweating condensation onto the table.

Up close, the older woman's resemblance to her sons was even more striking: Dale's thoughtful eyes and Cole's sharp jawline, both tempered by a feminine grace that made them somehow more severe.

"Dale tells me you're doing well in the research program.

" Margaret's voice carried that particular tone of old money and Ivy League education - precise consonants, measured vowels.

She moved a paper aside with manicured fingers, her wedding ring catching the morning light.

"Though I admit, I was surprised when he mentioned your background was in behavioral science. "

The unspoken question hung in the air between them. Ashley fought the urge to touch her stomach - a tell she couldn't afford right now. "I've always been interested in physics."

"Have you?" Margaret's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Or are you interested in physicists?"

Heat crept up Ashley's neck. "Mrs. Westwood-"

"Please." Margaret held up a hand, and the gesture was so similar to Dale's that it made Ashley's chest ache. "I'm not here to interrogate you about your relationship with my sons. Though I must say, you've managed to complicate things rather spectacularly."

Ashley's fingers tightened around her cup. "That wasn't my intention."

"Intentions rarely matter as much as results, dear.

" Margaret took a deliberate sip of her coffee.

"Cole's summer internship in Geneva - he's talking about extending it.

Permanently. Turning down his master's admission here.

" She set her cup down with careful precision.

"He didn't even tell us he was considering it.

Just sent an email to the department about deferring. "

Geneva . In her timeline, Cole had done the internship locally and came straight back to start his master's program. It was what had kept him close when Dale... How had she changed things so dramatically?

"I didn't know," she managed.

"No?" Margaret's eyes narrowed slightly. "Interesting. He seems to tell you more than he tells us."

Ashley frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come now, Miss Carter. Let's not pretend.

" Margaret's voice sharpened. "I've seen how he looks at you.

Even at graduation, when he should have been focused on his future, his eyes kept finding you.

It's the same way he used to look at those ridiculous physics problems Dale would give him - like you're something he needs to solve. "

The comparison startled a laugh from Ashley. "I don't think Cole sees me as a problem to solve."

"No?" Margaret leaned back, studying her with unnervingly familiar gray eyes. "Then what exactly are you to my son? Because whatever happened between you two has him ready to throw away everything he's worked for."

"I'm no one," Ashley said quietly. "Not anymore."

"On the contrary." Margaret's perfectly manicured nails tapped against her coffee cup. "My son doesn't run away from anything. And Geneva?" She laughed softly. "That's running.”

Ashley stared into her melting ice coffee, watching the cream create patterns in the darkness. The weight of everything - her mission, Cole's departure, Dale's hurt - pressed against her chest until she could barely breathe.

"Did you know," Margaret continued, her voice taking on the edge of steel, "that this is the first time since he was six that Cole's made a major decision without consulting his brother?

" She paused, letting that sink in. "Even when he refused to skip a grade, he talked it through with Dale first. But this?

" She shook her head. "He didn't tell him anything. "

The revelation made Ashley's stomach twist. She'd done more than push Cole away - she'd driven a wedge between the brothers at the exact time they needed to be closest.

"The master's program starts in September," Margaret said, gathering her things with elegant efficiency. "Whatever you did to my son, fix it. Because Dale..." She stopped, something flickering across her face too quickly to read. "Dale needs his brother here. More than either of them realize."

She stood, smoothing her cream blazer with practiced movements. "I trust you understand what I'm saying, Miss Carter?"

Ashley's voice caught in her throat. "Yes."

Margaret nodded once, decisive. "Good. Because while I don't particularly care for the drama you've brought into my sons' lives, I do care about their futures." She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, adding almost casually, "Both of their futures."

The emphasis wasn't lost on Ashley. As Margaret's heels clicked across the cafe floor, Ashley sat frozen, her mind racing. She had a little over a month until September. A month to fix what she'd broken, to get Cole back where he needed to be.

A month to fix the disaster she’d created.

* * *

Ashley found Ezra at a coffee shop twenty minutes off campus, the kind of overpriced artisanal place that stayed empty even during term time.

The summer afternoon had chased everyone else to beaches or air-conditioned apartments, leaving only the quiet hum of espresso machines and soft indie music drifting through the space.

Sarah had given her the address with obvious reluctance. "He's not going to help you, Ash. He's Cole's friend, not yours."

But Ashley had driven here anyway, desperation making her brave. Or stupid. She wasn't sure which anymore.

Ezra sat alone by the window, managing to look both perfectly casual and expertly styled in designer jeans and a cream sweater that probably cost more than her monthly wage. His smirk deepened as she approached, all predatory grace.

"Well," he drawled, "if it isn't the girl who broke Cole Westwood’s nonexistent heart."

Ashley slid into the chair opposite him, refusing to let his tone unsettle her. "Thank you for meeting me."

"Couldn't resist." His smile was all edges. "It's not every day the good girl comes begging for my help."

"I'm not begging."

"No?" He leaned forward, elbows on knees, studying her with those unsettling blue-green eyes.

A thin scar above his lip caught the afternoon light when he smiled - the kind of imperfection that somehow made him more attractive rather than less.

"Then why exactly did you track me down, Ashley?

Because last I checked, you weren't on Cole's list of favorite people. Or mine."

Heat crept up her neck. Her fingers found the condensation on her iced coffee, drawing absent patterns on the glass. "He's making a mistake. Staying in Geneva-"

"Is exactly what I'd do if I were him." Ezra's laugh held no humor.

He lounged deeper into his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, the picture of casual superiority.

"Though I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be the one to finally make him snap.

All those girls throwing themselves at him, and the one that breaks him is the wannabe physicist with a savior complex. "

Ashley's fingers stilled on her glass. Through the window behind him, clouds drifted across the summer sky, casting shifting shadows across the empty street. The cafe's air conditioning hummed quietly, barely masking the low jazz playing through hidden speakers.

"I don't have a savior complex."

His smile sharpened. "No? Then what would you call this?" He gestured between them. "Driving out here, cornering me in my favorite coffee shop, trying to manipulate Cole's best friend into bringing him home?"

"That's not-" She stopped, caught by the knowing look in his eyes. Her sundress suddenly felt too thin, too casual under his calculated stare. "I just want him to make the right choice for his future."

"His future." Ezra rolled the words, mocking her. "Right." He sat forward, all pretense of casual grace dropping away. "Tell me something, Ashley. Did you ever actually see Cole? Or were you too busy looking for whoever you wanted him to be? His brother, for example?"

The question hit too close for comfort. Ashley stared into her watered-down coffee, watching the last ice cube slowly disappear.

Everything she'd done - coming back, trying to save Dale, getting close to Cole - it had all seemed so clear.

So necessary. But sitting here, under Ezra's scrutiny, she couldn't ignore the chaos she'd created.

"I messed up," she said quietly. The admission felt raw in her throat. "I thought I knew what was best for him. For everyone. But I just..." She swallowed hard. "I made everything worse."

Something shifted in Ezra's expression - not quite softening, but reassessing. He leaned back, studying her with those unnerving blue-green eyes. "Keep talking."

"I need him to come back." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "Not for me. I know that's over. But he belongs here, Ezra. His research, his future... he can't throw it all away because I hurt him."

"And what makes you think you have any right to decide what he throws away?"

"I don't." She met his gaze steadily. "That's why I'm here. Asking you. Because you're his friend, and he trusts you, and..." Her voice cracked slightly. "And I'm terrified that by trying to fix everything, I've broken something that can't be repaired."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the quiet hum of the cafe's air conditioning and the clink of cups from the distant counter. Ezra's fingers drummed once against his armrest, then stilled.

"Broken things can be fixed," he said finally. "But not always into what they were before."

How many ripples had she created? How many changes had she set in motion that she couldn't see yet?

"I know." She stood, gathering her bag. "Just... tell him the department needs him. Tell him whatever you think will work. Please."

"That won't work." Ezra stirred his coffee, the silver spoon clinking against fine china. "Cole doesn't respond to should. Never has."

"Then what does he respond to?"

"Challenge." A hint of his earlier smirk returned. "Tell him he can't do something, he'll move heaven and earth to prove you wrong. Tell him he should do something..." He shrugged. "Well, you've seen how that goes."

Ashley sank back into her chair, processing this. "So what are you suggesting?"

"You really want him back here?" When she nodded, Ezra leaned forward. "Then we tell the department he's not ready. That maybe a year or two more experience would better prepare him for the rigor of the program."

"But that's not true-"

"Exactly." His eyes glinted. "Within a week, he'll have a proposal drafted proving why he's not only ready but overqualified. In two weeks, he'll be arguing with the department head. Three weeks..." He spread his hands. "Welcome back to Yale, Mr. Westwood."

Ashley stared at him. "You really think that would work?"

"I know Cole." He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim. "He's brilliant, yes. But he's also the most stubborn bastard I've ever met."

"Thank you," she replied quietly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” He said. "Let me make some calls first.”

"Why are you helping me?"

“Consider it my contribution to science."

“No, seriously,” her eyes searched his, “why?”

"I'm not." He stood, adjusting his cream sweater with practiced ease. "I'm helping him. Because contrary to what you might think, some of us actually see Cole for who he is, and we like it."

The barb stung, but Ashley forced herself to nod. "Thank you, Ezra."

He paused, looking down at her with that unnervingly perceptive gaze. "Just remember, Ashley. The thing about butterflies is once they start flapping their wings..." He shrugged, elegant and devastating. "Well, you never know what kind of storm they'll create."