Chapter 152 THE WRONG CONCLUSIONS - 35

Chapter 152 THE WRONG CONCLUSIONS - 35
COLE

I was about twenty minutes from the cabin when my phone buzzed in the cupholder.
Normally I'd have ignored it until I arrived, but traffic had already slowed for a red light, so I picked it up while I waited.
Dev: full house this weekend!! maya, priya, marcus, jordan, you, vivienne
For a second I honestly thought I'd misread it.
I looked again, slower this time, partly because I was expecting my brain to rearrange the names into something more reasonable and partly because I was fairly sure Dev had forgotten to mention a fairly significant detail.
He hadn't.
Vivienne.
The light turned green. The car behind me gave a quick, impatient honk and I realised I'd been sitting there staring at my phone like someone who'd just received mildly life-changing news via emoji.
"Right," I muttered, easing the car forward. "Fair enough."
I didn't even think about it before calling Jordan.
He sent me straight to voicemail.
I frowned, hung up and tried again because occasionally technology deserves the benefit of the doubt.
Voicemail.
Of course.
I gave up and sent him a text instead.
you knew
His reply appeared before I'd reached the next junction.
drive safe! 🙂
I actually laughed.
Not because it was funny, although it was a little, but because that stupid smiley face told me everything I needed to know. Jordan had known the entire time. He'd sat in my kitchen demolishing half a bag of salt and vinegar crisps while asking whether I'd spoken to Vivienne recently. He'd listened to me overthink an encounter in a coffee shop, nodded like a concerned friend, and somehow never once thought to mention that we'd apparently both be spending the weekend under the same roof.
The man had looked me directly in the eye while committing what I was increasingly convinced was a criminal misuse of friendship.
I briefly considered ringing him again just so he could hear what disappointment sounded like.
Instead I drove.
It gave me twenty uninterrupted minutes to think, which, in hindsight, was probably too many.
At first I was annoyed.
Not at Vivienne. That would've been ridiculous because she almost certainly hadn't known I was coming either. I was annoyed at Jordan, then Dev by association, then at the suspiciously cheerful wording of Dev's text, because full house this weekend!! suddenly read less like enthusiasm and more like the sort of message a man sends when he's trying very hard to sound casual about something that absolutely isn't.
Somewhere along the way the annoyance gave way to resignation.
It was a weekend away with friends.
Nobody had tricked us into a deserted island or locked us in a room together with a relationship counsellor. We were all adults, we'd managed eleven weeks of working together without setting anything on fire, and one awkward conversation in a coffee shop didn't suddenly erase every normal interaction we'd ever had.
At least, that was the speech I kept giving myself.
Whether I believed it changed every few miles.
The gravel road appeared just as the sat nav announced I was nearly there, winding through trees that were only just beginning to turn for autumn. A few minutes later the house came into view, all timber and stone and enormous windows glowing against the late afternoon light.
People really needed to stop calling places like this cabins.
It looked like the sort of house architects designed after deciding ordinary houses simply weren't ambitious enough.
Jordan was sitting on the porch with a mug balanced comfortably in one hand.
He wasn't reading.
Wasn't looking at his phone.
He was just... sitting there, watching the driveway with the deeply satisfied expression of a man waiting for his own round of applause.
That alone told me everything.
I climbed out of the car, shut the door behind me and pointed a finger at him before he even had the chance to open his mouth.
"Don't."
His smile widened.
"I haven't said anything yet."
"You've got the face."
"What face?"
"The one you get when you've interfered in somebody else's life and you're convinced history is eventually going to thank you for it."
He looked down at his mug as though giving the accusation serious consideration.
"I do have that face occasionally."
"You have it constantly."
"I prefer to think of it as optimism."
"I prefer to think of it as evidence."
He laughed, took another sip of tea and stood up.
"Long drive?"
"Jordan."
"What?"
"You knew she was coming."
"I did."
"And you deliberately didn't tell me."
"I also did."
I stared at him for a second.
He didn't even attempt to look guilty.
"If it helps," he said, "I'm very pleased with how this has unfolded."
"I noticed."
"I was hoping you would."
I shook my head, grabbed my bag from the boot and started towards the house.
"You're impossible."
"So people keep telling me."
"They're right."
"I know."
He held the front door open for me like the perfect host.
"Come on," he said. "Everyone's already inside."
Everyone.
That word suddenly carried a little more weight than it had five minutes ago.
I adjusted the strap on my bag, took one steadying breath that I hoped wasn't as obvious as it felt, and followed him inside.
The first thing I heard when I stepped inside was laughter.
Not the polite sort people produce because somebody's told an acceptable joke, but the loud, overlapping kind that only happens when everyone in the room has stopped worrying about whether they're being funny and is just enjoying themselves.
It made the house feel smaller somehow.
Warmer.
Marcus was in the kitchen unsuccessfully arguing that he'd only bought three bags of crisps, Jordan immediately correcting him from behind me.
"You bought nine."
"They were on offer."
"They were still nine."
"I believe in planning ahead."
"You believe in sodium."
Marcus looked up from unpacking groceries.
"Cole!"
He came over for a quick handshake that somehow turned into a hug halfway through because apparently we'd reached that stage of adulthood without anybody officially announcing it.
"You made it."
"So it would seem."
"Perfect timing. Dinner's running about forty-five minutes late."
"What happened?"
"Jordan happened."
"I object," Jordan called. "Dinner was already running late."
"You still ate half the snacks."
"I was preserving morale."
"By eating the morale?"
"It was very effective morale."
I laughed, dropping my bag near the stairs while Dev appeared from somewhere carrying what looked like enough vegetables to feed a rugby team.
"There he is." He pulled me into one of those handshake-into-hug greetings he'd perfected years ago. "Long drive?"
"Not too bad."
"Good. Beer's in the fridge, wine's on the counter, bedrooms are sorted, and if Jordan offers to help with anything, tell him no."
"I can hear you."
"You're supposed to."
"I've grown."
"You've grown confident. Different issue."
Jordan looked genuinely wounded.
"I've been nothing but useful."
Marcus glanced at the open packet of crisps sitting on the kitchen island.
"Case in point."
The whole conversation washed over me in that familiar way it always did with this group. Nobody waited their turn, half the jokes arrived before the previous one had finished, and somehow everyone still understood everyone else.
It felt easy.
Comfortable.
Normal.
Maya appeared from the hallway carrying a stack of plates.
"Cole."
She smiled, gave me a quick hug and stepped back, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
"I'm glad you came."
"I get the feeling you've said that to everyone."
"I have."
"Hm."
"What?"
"You look suspiciously innocent."
"I usually do."
"You really don't."
She laughed but, notably, didn't deny it.
"I'm setting the table," she announced, already walking away. "Try not to let Jordan eat anything else."
"No promises," Jordan replied.
"I heard that."
"You were supposed to."
I wandered towards the sitting room to grab a glass of water, more because I suddenly needed somewhere to stand than because I was actually thirsty.
That's when I heard her.
Vivienne.
I hadn't seen her yet, but I'd know that laugh anywhere now. It drifted in from the other room, followed by Priya saying something too quiet for me to catch and then another burst of laughter, this one louder because Marcus had apparently decided to contribute whatever wisdom Marcus believed he possessed.
I rounded the corner.
She was sitting cross-legged on one end of the sofa, mug balanced in both hands, listening to Priya with that completely unguarded smile she only seemed to have around people she trusted. Her hair was tied back, she'd changed into an oversized jumper sometime after arriving, and she looked... comfortable.
Not pretending to be.
Actually comfortable.
She noticed me almost immediately.
"Hey."
"Hey."
She smiled, warm and easy in exactly the way she'd smiled at everyone else, as though seeing me here was unexpected but not unwelcome.
"I didn't know you were coming."
"I could say the same thing."
A laugh escaped her.
"I suppose you could."
There wasn't anything awkward about it.
That was almost the problem.
I stood there for another minute, joined the conversation where it made sense, accepted the glass of water Dev handed me from across the room, and found myself laughing along with everyone else before I really thought about it.
It should have put me at ease.
Instead I couldn't stop noticing the small things.
The way she leaned towards whoever was speaking without realising she was doing it.
The way she laughed with her whole face instead of politely smiling.
The way she'd somehow settled into the room before I'd even arrived, like she'd always been part of this particular version of everyone's lives.
She looked happy.
Genuinely happy.
And for reasons I couldn't quite explain, that should have been enough.
It wasn't.