Page 36 of Echoes of Us

The room swayed. Or maybe Ashley did. She watched through blurring vision as Cole explained a theory, his hands moving in perfect synchronization with Dale's across the room. Every gesture is a practice in becoming. Every pause was an echo of what he would lose.

"Ashley?" Dale appeared beside her, concerned about drawing his brows together. "Are you alright?"

She couldn't answer. All she could see was how Cole's head snapped up at his brother's voice, his body automatically adjusting to match Dale's stance.

And Margaret - Margaret watched it all with desperate satisfaction like she was already rehearsing for a future where one son would have to become both.

Ashley's wine glass slipped from numb fingers. Crystal shattered against hardwood, spraying red like secrets finally spilled. Like blood. Like destiny.

The sound seemed to echo forever.

Ashley didn't remember leaving the dinner. One moment, she was watching red wine spread across the floor. The next, she was stumbling down empty hallways, fluorescent lights humming overhead. Her heels clicked against the tile, the sound echoing after her.

The physics lab appeared like a refuge, dark and familiar. She fumbled for the light switch but stopped, preferring the shadows. She pressed her back against a cold wall, sliding down until she hit the floor.

Her professional mind kicked in, detached and clinical: Hyperventilation. Acute stress response. But knowing the terms didn't help when her chest felt too tight when every breath caught on the reality of what she'd realized.

All those little changes in her Cole after Dale died. The way he'd grown quieter, more measured. How he'd taken over Dale's research and adopted his teaching style. She'd thought it was grief, thought it was growing up, though-

"Ashley?"

Dale's voice in the doorway made her flinch. He stood silhouetted against the hallway light, one hand on the door frame. The gesture was so familiar it hurt - she'd seen her Cole stand exactly like that countless times.

"Don't," she managed, the word coming out strangled. "Please."

But he was already moving toward her, concerned about drawing his brows together in that way that made her stomach turn. How many times had she seen that same expression on her husband's face? Which brother had it belonged to first?

"What happened back there?" Dale crouched beside her, careful to give her space. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

A laugh bubbled up, sharp and hysterical. A ghost. That's exactly what she'd seen - the ghost of the man beside her, wearing his brother's skin.

"I can't-" she pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to block out his presence. "I can't look at you right now."

"Ashley." His voice gentled, and goodness, she could hear how Cole had learned to modulate his tone just like that. "Tell me what's wrong."

Every word, every gesture, was like another piece falling into place. A puzzle she'd never wanted to solve.

"Please go," she whispered.

She felt him hesitate, felt him shift as if to reach for her. Then he stood, his movement precise and controlled. Just like Cole's had become.

"I'll get Sarah."

The door closed softly behind him. In the dark, empty lab, Ashley let herself shatter.

Her sobs echoed against glass beakers and metal equipment, harsh and raw in a way that she hadn’t allowed herself before. She couldn't stop shaking, couldn't catch her breath between waves of grief that felt like they might tear her apart.

The door opened, spilling hallway light across the floor. Through her tears, she didn't need to look up to know it was Cole - his presence had always filled rooms differently than his brother's.

Moonlight caught his silhouette as he stood in the doorway, the perfect posture from dinner gone. His tie hung loose, and shirt sleeves rolled up - little cracks in the evening's careful performance. The sound of her crying filled the space between them.

"I saw you run."

His words were almost lost in her ragged breathing. She pressed her back harder against the cold wall, focusing on the familiar hum of lab equipment through her tears. Anything but the way he stood there, so perfectly Cole in this moment that it physically hurt.

He moved into the room, moonlight sliding over his features.

No measured steps now, just that restless energy she remembered from their first meeting in this timeline.

He stopped a few feet away, and through her tear-blurred vision, she could see his fingers drumming against his thigh - not Dale's stillness, but his own nervous tell.

Her sobs had quieted to shuddering breaths when he crouched in front of her. The moonlight caught his features, sharp and beautiful in a way that was entirely his own.

"I watch you," she whispered, the words spilling out raw and honest. "Always trying so hard to be what everyone needs.

The perfect son, the brilliant student, even the careless player - whatever role keeps people from seeing how much you feel everything.

" Her voice broke. "But I see you, Cole.

I see how you burn too bright and feel too much. How terrifying that must be."

He went completely still, the kind of stillness that came before storms. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. "Stop."

"You think if you move fast enough, love carelessly enough, no one will notice that you're the one who feels every single thing too deeply." She met his eyes, tear-blurred but steady. "That's why you run. Why do you push everyone away? Because you don't know how to burn any less bright."

Something cracked in his expression - that perfect mask he wore shattering completely. His breathing turned ragged, matching hers.

"Ashley." Her name came out like a prayer, like a curse.

Then his mouth was on hers.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful. His fingers tangled in her hair, sending pins scattering across the lab floor. She gasped as he pulled her closer, closer like he could erase any space between them. Her tears mixed with the taste of wine on his lips.

"Cole." His name broke on a sob against his mouth. His hands trembled as they framed her face, thumbs brushing tears from her cheeks even as his kiss turned desperate.

The wall was cold against her back, but he was fire, pressing against her until she couldn't tell where she ended, and he began. Buttons scattered as she pulled at his shirt. When her fingers found bare skin, his whole body shuddered.

A sound escaped him - something raw and broken that she swallowed with another kiss. His hands gripped her waist, lifting her against the wall as her legs wrapped around him. She could feel his heart hammering against hers, matching rhythms like they were trying to break together.

"Please." The word fell from her lips like a prayer. He answered by burying his face in her neck, breathing her in like he was drowning. When she pulled his mouth back to hers, she tasted salt - his tears or hers, she couldn't tell anymore.

He kissed her like he was coming apart, and she let herself break with him.