Page 7 of Echoes of Us

T he bedroom was dim, the only light spilling in from the hallway where Cole had lingered after seeing Ezra out.

Ashley sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her thoughts a whirlwind of hurt and unanswered questions.

She’d barely looked at him when he’d walked in, his tall frame casting a long shadow as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Ashley,” he began softly, his voice steady but cautious. “You’re upset.”

Her gaze snapped to him, her hazel eyes sharp. “Upset?” she echoed, her voice trembling. “Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it, Cole. Ezra–your best friend–just implied that I don’t know you well enough to be having your child. And you let him say it.”

Cole closed the door behind him, his movements deliberate, his gray eyes never leaving hers. “He shouldn’t have said that,” he admitted, his voice low. “But he doesn’t know us. Not really.”

She let out a bitter laugh, standing abruptly. “Doesn’t he? Because from where I’m standing, Ezra knows things about you that I don’t even have a clue about. Your brother, Dale. The anniversary of his death–he had to be the one to tell me that. Not you.”

Cole took a step closer, but she raised a hand, stopping him. “What else don’t I know, Cole? How much of you have I married without ever really knowing? How much of you have you kept locked away?”

He stilled, his jaw tightening, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he clenched his fists at his sides. “You do know me, Ashley,” he said finally, his tone firm but measured.

“Do I?” she challenged, her voice breaking slightly. “Because right now, it doesn’t feel like it.”

Cole exhaled, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. This time, she didn’t stop him. “You know me better than anyone ever has,” he said, his voice softening. “Better than Ezra, better than anyone. And I can prove it.”

Ashley crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. “Go ahead.”

“You know I can’t stand silence when I’m working, but I need absolute quiet when I sleep,” Cole began, his voice low, his gray eyes locked on hers.

“You’ve noticed how I drum my fingers against my thigh when I’m about to say something I don’t want to admit.

And you know I won’t drink coffee unless it’s strong enough to paralyze a normal human. ”

Ashley blinked, the sharpness in her gaze faltering as he stepped closer.

“You know when I need space before I even realize it myself. When my mind gets loud, and I retreat, you never push. You just leave the deadly strong coffee on the counter and wait for me to come back to you.” His voice dropped, rough with emotion. “You always wait.”

She swallowed, her lips parting to argue, but the words slipped away as his hand found her waist, pulling her just close enough to feel his warmth.

“You know that when I kiss the inside of your wrist, it’s not because I’m trying to be sweet–it’s because I know it drives you mad.

” His voice dipped lower, brushing over her skin like a touch.

“And you know when I run my hands down your back, just so it’s not an accident.

It’s because I know the sound you’ll make when I reach your hips. ”

Her breath hitched, her knees weakening as he leaned closer, his lips brushing just above her ear. “Don’t tell me you don’t know me, Ashley. You know everything that matters. Everything.”

Her breath caught, her chest tightening with an ache she couldn’t name. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

Cole took her silence as permission and lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “And I know you too,” he murmured, his voice softening, “more than you realize.”

Her eyes lifted to his, captivated by the determination she found in them.

“You love the smell of rain but hate getting caught in it. You keep a book by your bed, even if you’re too tired to read it because you like knowing it’s there.

And when you’re happy, really happy, you have this tiny crinkle at the corner of your eyes that no one else seems to notice. But I do.”

Her lips parted slightly as he continued. “You know where to touch me when I’m restless, what to say when I’m lost in my own head. And you know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I thought I could.”

Her breath hitched as his thumb traced the line of her jaw, his voice turning lower, rougher. “And I know you, Ashley. I know what you need, what you want, even when you don’t. I know where to kiss you to make you melt. How to touch you to make you forget everything but this–us.”

His lips found hers then, soft but insistent, pulling her into a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs.

His hands slid down her sides, finding the hem of her dress and tugging it upward with practiced ease.

The cool air hit her skin as he peeled the fabric away, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, as though mapping every inch of her.

“You’re everything, Ashley,” he murmured against her collarbone, his voice thick with emotion. “You and this baby–you’re my everything.”

Her hands found his shirt, tugging it free from his waistband, her fingers brushing against the hard planes of his stomach. He groaned softly, his touch growing bolder as he lifted her onto the bed.

Cole’s kisses grew deeper, more fervent, his hands exploring her body with a reverence that made her feel worshipped. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Ashley gasped as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, her fingers threading through his hair. Whatever anger or doubt she’d felt before melted away, replaced by the unshakable certainty of him .

* * *

Ashley woke to the faint hum of the air conditioner, the golden light of early morning spilling across the bedroom floor.

For a moment, her mind felt soft, cushioned by the warmth of Cole’s presence from the night before–the way he had held her, kissed her, made her feel known in ways no one else ever could.

But when she turned over, the bed beside her was empty, the covers pulled taut as if he’d never been there. Her heart sank, the reassurance she’d gained evaporating like a wisp of smoke.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, her stomach twisting as she read the message:

Went to my mother’s. Pancakes on the counter. Say hi to your parents from me.

Cole. Always trying to smooth over the cracks, pretending nothing had happened. She stared at the words, anger simmering beneath her skin. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about last night, about Ezra’s cutting words, about Dale, was okay.

Still, she forced herself out of bed, padding into the kitchen where the smell of pancakes lingered.

A neatly folded napkin rested beside the plate, a small sign of his careful thoughtfulness that made her want to scream.

She sat at the counter, tearing into the pancakes with more force than necessary.

Halfway through, she stopped, her fork hovering mid-air. Her gaze drifted to the keys sitting on the counter.

She wasn’t going to let this go. Not this time.

Ashley didn’t remember making the decision; she only remembered the rush of cool air as she opened the car door. She called Sarah on the way, the tears she’d held back all morning spilling freely now.

By the time she pulled up outside Sarah’s apartment, her face was blotchy, her nose red, and her chest heaving. Sarah opened the passenger door, her brow furrowing as she took in Ashley’s appearance.

“Poor baby,” Sarah cooed, sliding into the seat. “These pregnancy hormones are killing you.”

“It’s not the hormones,” Ashley snapped, though her voice wavered.

“Sure, it’s not.”

Ashley glared at her, but Sarah only shrugged, motioning for her to keep driving.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Sarah glanced at her through the rearview mirror, her green eyes glinting with curiosity. Her hair, still slightly damp from a quick shower, curled into uneven waves, brushing the edges of her collarbone.

“To Greenwich," Ashley replied, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “You’ve completely lost it.”

“Cole went to the cemetery. For Dale.”

Sarah blinked, her surprise softening into something quieter. “Oh.”

“I need to go,” Ashley said, her voice breaking. “I need to see him.”

“Okay,” Sarah said simply, settling back into her seat. “I don’t question the whims of a pregnant woman.”

Ashley laughed through her tears, though it came out more like a hiccup.

They arrived four hours later, and Ashley managed to locate Cole’s car in the parking lot.

The cemetery itself was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt alive, where every whisper of wind and rustle of leaves seemed to carry meaning. The gravel crunched softly under the tires as Ashley parked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Sarah stepped out of the car with her, but Ashley stopped her with a hand on her arm as soon as she spotted him.

Cole stood by a grave near the edge of the lot, a bouquet of white flowers in his hand.

His tall frame was tense, his shoulders stiff as though bracing against a storm.

For a moment, he didn’t move, then he shook his head sharply and turned, his fist colliding with a nearby tree.

The sound echoed in the still air, and Ashley flinched at the sight of blood streaking his knuckles.

Without thinking, she ran to him.

Cole didn’t look surprised when she threw her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could.

“Mom didn’t want to come.”

Ashley’s heart clenched at the pain in his voice. “You know how she is,” she murmured, trying to soothe him.

“I’m sorry,” Cole said suddenly, his voice breaking. He buried his face in her shoulder, his breath hitching as he whispered, “I’ll never be as good as him.”