Chapter 47 Untitled Chapter

Chapter 47 Untitled Chapter

Cole’s POV

Tyler didn’t even bother pretending anymore.
It wasn’t subtle the way it used to be. It was direct now. It was no longer the quiet jabs and the Snickers.
We were outside the gym after practice.

“You’re getting distracted.” He turned towards me.
I didn’t stop walking. “From what?”

Tyler adjusted the strap of his bag like he had all the time in the world. “From what matters.”
A few of the guys slowed behind us. Not enough to look obvious. Enough to listen.
I knew that kind of silence. The kind where people pretend they’re not watching a fracture form.
I turned slightly. “Say it.”

His eyes flicked over my shoulder briefly like he already knew what I’d see there.
Wren was near the parking lot. Head down. Bag tight on her shoulder. Waiting.
Not for me.

Tyler followed my gaze and smiled faintly.
“That,” he said, “is exactly the problem.”

Something in my chest tightened, sharp and immediate.
I stepped closer to him. Not aggressive. Not loud.
Just enough.

“Don’t talk about her like that.”
Tyler blinked once, like I’d said something mildly inconvenient.

“Like what?”
“Like she’s a distraction.”

A couple of guys shifted behind us. Someone cleared their throat. Nobody left.
Tyler leaned in slightly now, voice quieter. Controlled.

“You’re letting her get into your head,” he said. “That’s not you.”
“That’s enough.” I held his gaze. Looking at him so firmly that we paused for a moment.
There was silence.

It was the kind that stretches.
Tyler’s expression didn’t change, but something behind his eyes cooled.
“You’re choosing wrong,” he said quietly.

Then he walked past me like the conversation had already ended.
But it hadn’t because when I turned back, Wren was already gone.
And I didn’t remember seeing her leave.

Wren’s POV

By the time I got home, I had already rewritten the last hour in my head three different ways.
All of them ended the same.
With me not being there.
That was becoming a pattern.

I dropped my bag by the stairs and could hear Mia and Jake before I saw them.
“Mia says I can’t be trusted with snacks,” Jake complained.
“You ate an entire pack of cookies and blamed the dog,” Mia shot back.
“There is no dog.”
“Exactly.”

I walked past them, and for a second, it was almost normal.
Almost.

Then I saw Cole on the couch.
Still in his practice hoodie. One arm over the backrest. Phone in his hand, though he wasn’t really looking at it.
He looked up when I entered the room.
Just once.

And then away again.
Like we had practiced distance.
“Homework at six,” I said automatically, because routines were easier than everything else.
Mia groaned. “Why do you always attack us emotionally the moment you walk in?”
“I don’t,” I said.

Jake pointed at me. “You do.”
Cole let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but not quite.
It made Mia stop mid-argument.

She looked between us. “Okay. You two are weird again.”
“We’re not,” I said too quickly.
Cole didn’t respond.

That was worse.
Because silence from him always meant he was thinking too much.
And I didn’t want to know what about.

Later, the house shifted into its usual nighttime rhythm.
Mia’s homework chaos. Jake arguing with his math. The sound of drawers opening and closing. The soft clatter of life pretending it was simple.

I stayed in my room longer than necessary.
Not because I was busy.

Because I didn’t want to pass him again in the hallway.
Eventually I had to go downstairs.
Kitchen. Water. Something normal.
He was already there.

Leaning against the counter like he’d been waiting for nothing in particular.
He didn’t look up immediately.
“I saw you today,” he said.

My fingers paused on the cabinet handle.
“Where?”
“Outside the gym.”
Of course.
Of course he did.

I pulled a glass down slowly. “That’s not unusual.”
“It wasn’t what I meant.”
There it was again.
That tone.

Like there was always something unsaid between us, and I was the only one pretending not to hear it.
I filled the glass. “Then say what you mean.”
A beat.

When I finally looked at him, his eyes were already on me.
“I don’t like how people look at you,” he said.
My grip tightened slightly.
“That’s not something you control.”

“I know.”
“But?”
He hesitated.

And that hesitation did something to the air between us.
“It’s getting worse,” he said finally.

I let out a short breath. Not quite a laugh.
“You think I don’t know that?”
His jaw flexed slightly.

“I think,” he said carefully, “you’re handling it by disappearing.”
That landed more precisely than I wanted it to.
I set the glass down. “I’m not disappearing.” I replied.

“You left the table today.” He pointed out.
“I left a conversation I didn't want to be in.” I snapped.
The words came out before I could stop them and the moment they did, I regretted how honest they sounded.
The kitchen went still.

Cole didn’t respond immediately.
When he did, his voice was quieter. “I see.”
I looked away first.
“I have things to do,” I said as I walked towards the door.
“Wren.” He called out to me.

I stopped at the doorway but didn’t turn.
His voice softened slightly. Not forceful.
Not demanding but just seemingly honest in a way I wasn’t ready for.
“I’m not the problem you think I am.”
My hand tightened on the doorframe.

“I didn’t say you were.” I paused as I turned to look at him.
“You’re acting like I am.” He continued but I left before he could say anything else.
I didn't want to hear any of it anymore and if I stayed, I might’ve admitted I didn’t know what I was doing anymore and that was dangerous.

Back upstairs, I didn’t open my notebook, I just sat there.
Thinking about the way Cole looked at me. It was different and it felt strange at the same time.
No one had looked at me in that way before.
That was the problem. He felt he understood me but understanding meant nothing.