Chapter 158

Chapter 158
Linnet's POV


"It took me almost two years to say yes when he asked me out again," she continued. "Two years of watching him be consistently kind, consistently respectful, consistently patient. Two years of slowly learning to trust again, slowly understanding that not all men were like Cole, that intimacy didn't have to come with violence, that love didn't have to hurt." She looked at me directly. "And even then, even after I said yes, it took time. David never rushed me, never made me feel like I owed him anything for his patience. He let me set the pace, let me decide when I was ready for more, and when I finally told him what Cole had done to me—" Her voice broke. "He cried, Linnet. Cried because he was heartbroken that someone had hurt me like that, and then he promised me he would spend the rest of his life making sure I knew what real love felt like."

"He kept that promise," I said fiercely, remembering my father, remembering the gentle way he'd always treated Mom, the respect and tenderness that had been the foundation of their relationship.

"He did," Mom agreed quietly. "Every single day until he died. And you—" Her voice caught. "You are the best thing that ever came from that choice, from taking the risk to trust again, from choosing real love over the fear Cole had left me with. The proof that I made the right decision."

I hugged her again, and this time when we held each other it felt different—felt like we were both acknowledging the weight of what she'd told me while also celebrating her survival, her escape, her triumph over the man who'd tried to break her. When we finally pulled apart, I looked at her seriously, needing to say something that had been building in my chest throughout her entire story.

"Thank you for telling me," I said. "I know that was incredibly hard, and I—I'm so grateful that you trusted me with the truth. And Mom—" I paused, making sure she was really hearing me. "You survived something terrible and you still managed to be an amazing mother, to raise me with love and kindness even after experiencing that kind of violence. I'm so proud of you."

"I had to tell you," Mom said quietly. "Because now that you're involved with Bryson, now that Cole knows about the two of you—" She took a deep breath. "You need to understand what kind of man he really is. What he's capable of. Not just the violence, but the manipulation, the way he uses intimacy and tenderness to make you doubt your own perceptions, to make you think that the abuse is somehow your fault or that you're overreacting when you try to protect yourself."

I nodded slowly, understanding sinking in as I thought about everything she'd described—the cycle of violence and apology, the way Cole had used sex to confuse her sense of what was real, the gradual erosion of her boundaries and her sense of self-worth. And I thought about Bryson, about the way his father had controlled him through shame and manipulation, through invoking his dead mother's memory to guilt him into compliance, through the constant threat of withdrawing love and approval if Bryson didn't perform perfectly.

"Bryson isn't like him," I said firmly, needing Mom to understand that distinction. "I know they're father and son, but Bryson is nothing like Cole. He's gentle and respectful and he's never—" I broke off, remembering the way Bryson had stopped when I'd hesitated in the shelter, had checked in with me constantly to make sure I wanted what was happening, had made it clear that my consent and comfort mattered more than his own desire. "He's never pressured me or made me feel unsafe. If anything, he's been the opposite—he's let me set all the boundaries, make all the choices about how far and how fast things go between us."

"I believe you," Mom said, and I could hear the sincerity in her voice even as I saw the worry still lingering in her eyes. "And I'm glad Bryson treats you well. But Linnet, you need to understand—Cole is going to try to destroy this relationship. He's going to use every tool at his disposal to drive a wedge between you and Bryson, to hurt both of you in whatever way will cause the most damage. Because in his mind, the two of you being together is history repeating itself—it's me choosing David over him all over again, except this time it's his son choosing my daughter. And Cole can't stand to lose. Can't stand to be rejected. It triggers something in him that makes him absolutely vicious."

I thought about what had happened at the mansion, the way Cole had looked at me with that mixture of contempt and something darker, the way he'd reduced my relationship with Bryson to a transaction, had offered me money to terminate a pregnancy I didn't even have just to humiliate me, had called me and Mom opportunists and gold-diggers and implied that we were using the Doyle men for financial gain. And I realized that Mom was right—this wasn't just about Cole being a controlling father who didn't approve of his son's girlfriend. This was personal. This was revenge.

"What do we do?" I asked quietly, feeling the weight of the situation settling over me like a lead blanket. "How do we protect ourselves from him?"

Mom was quiet for a long moment, and I could see her thinking, weighing options, trying to figure out how to navigate a situation that had no good solutions. "We stick together," she said finally. "You and me, and Bryson too if he's willing to stand against his father."

She paused, and I saw something like regret flash across her face. "I wish I could tell you to end it with Bryson," she admitted. "Wish I could say that the safest thing would be to walk away and avoid Cole's wrath entirely. But I know you love him, and I know that telling you to give him up would just drive a wedge between us and make you more vulnerable because you'd be dealing with Cole's attacks without my support."

"I do love him," I said quietly, and saying it out loud to my mother felt both terrifying and liberating.