Silver
In the end, life goes on.
Mum was fine, and in her words, she only needed to clear her head in a place where Papa doesn’t exist. Usually, she makes him appear as the villain every chance she gets, but not this time. Maybe she’s finally moving on? I hope so, at least. I feel so sorry for Lucien.
After that weekend we spent in Nice, Cole and I evolved. I can’t find the words to describe it properly, but we just took it to the next level.
Could be because we shared a loss, or because we became more careful.
Or I did.
The anxiety and stress I felt when I thought I was pregnant was torture. It’s Papa’s election year – the dream he’s worked his entire life for. The one he divorced Mum for because he wanted to focus on his political career.
I can’t be self-immersed and ruin that for him.
Or Mum’s social popularity. Or Helen’s success.
So the only time Cole gets to touch or even be near me is when he sneaks into my room at night. When both our doors are closed and the outside world ceases to exist.
I still pretend I don’t want him there and he fucks me harder each time I do. It’s like he’s punishing me for our screwed-up situation.
Cole likes punishments. The control and the fact that I fall completely at his mercy is his driving force.
Whenever I act like a brat at school, or when he tells me to do something and I don’t, he sends me texts like:
Cole: I’m going to spank your arse so hard, you will remember me every time you sit tomorrow.
Cole:You better be naked and splayed out on the bed when I come in or there will be no orgasms for you tonight.
Cole: What did I say about talking to Aiden? Do you want to be punished, Butterfly? Is that it?
Let’s just say, I did most of those things on purpose so he’d unleash his intensity on me. There’s something so mesmerising about Cole shedding the cool mask and going all out when he’s with me.
I’m the only one who gets to provoke that side of him. The only one who gets him on more than one level.
And he gets me.
He knows when the doubts creep in, when my heart shrinks whenever I see a kid on the streets and recall the loss of what we couldn’t have.
Every time I run to the park, he follows with a Snickers bar and kisses me on the nose.
Last week, I won a piano competition. Well, Cole let me win. I know he could’ve beaten me, but that day, he barely played. When I shoved him, demanding he not take pity on me, he said, “That wasn’t pity. I’ve always wanted to see that spark you get in your eyes when you win.”
“But you’ve made it your job to crush me in everything.”
“That’s because you were with Aiden. Now, you’re not.”
To say Cole gets jealous would be an understatement. He doesn’t like any male in my vicinity, but he’s so subtle about it. Like kicking Aiden down every chance he gets, or plotting Ronan’s demise just because he put an arm around my shoulder.
Aiden calls him petty and he is in some ways. Cole doesn’t stop when he’s on a mission — everything in his environment becomes a means to reach a goal. He doesn’t sleep a wink until he achieves it.
Not that I’m any better in the jealousy department. I make it my job to make sure no other girl hangs around him or in his immediate surroundings.
The other week, Teal, Elsa’s foster sister, was sitting with Cole in the school’s garden and reading from a book he specifically ordered from overseas.
My relationship with Teal — if you could call it a relationship — is better than the one I have with Elsa. Partly because we crossed paths in La Débauche and we’re both into voyeurism. And okay, I might have pushed Cole away when I recognised her because I didn’t want to be associated with him anywhere in public.
That fantasy of us being together for the world to see started and ended in that small town in France.
Seeing her with him, and knowing that they got along on some level when Cole never actually showed any interest in the opposite sex in the past, made me rage like a volcano.
I’m the only one he’s supposed to read to. The only one who falls asleep listening to his voice, dreaming about a parallel world where he can read to me in the park while my head lies on his lap.
So I flirted with Ronan as double payback. Teal is Ronan’s fiancée; he wasn’t amused to see her with Cole either.
That evening, Cole tied me to the bedpost and fucked me the entire night. No kidding. He only let me sleep around dawn.
Well, he didn’t let me. I fell asleep on him when he went to run a bath for me.
I’m still not talking to him because of the whole Teal thing. She almost kissed him back there. He didn’t stop her, Ronan did. If he hadn’t, Cole would’ve let her fucking kiss him.
Now I’m the one who’s being petty, but whatever. It’s enough torture that I don’t get to kiss him in public, that I don’t even get to hold his hand or flirt with him, that I don’t get to shout it to the world that he’s mine. I don’t need to see other girls’ claws on him on top of everything else.
“Have fun, kids.” Helen waves at us from the front door.
Her face looks worn out, which is understandable considering she’s about ready to submit the final manuscript for her next release to her agent. He read the first half and was thrilled, calling it her best work yet.
She kind of died a little in the process of meeting her deadline. I feel sorry for her since Papa isn’t around much anymore.
Most of his nights and days are spent at the party. Although he barely shows up at home, Helen’s been nothing but supportive. Now that I think about it, most of my parents’ fights were because they didn’t find time for each other in the midst of chasing their careers.
Helen is kinder and less outspoken than Mum. It’s been several months, but she’s never called Papa out or blamed him. She’s simply left him to his devices and taken care of the house and us as if she’s lived here her entire life.
I love Helen, but sometimes, I miss having Mum around. It’s crazy given that she moved out ages ago, but before the marriage, she always dropped in unannounced just to fight with Papa.
Now, it doesn’t happen anymore. And to an extent, I’m grateful to Helen for that.
I snap the seatbelt over my simple soft pink dress that falls to above my knees as Cole drives his Jeep away from the house. Ronan is throwing a party in the Meet Up. Since his parents returned from their overseas trip, he doesn’t have full access to his mansion, so the Meet Up is his next best option.
Parties have never been my thing, so I considered skipping and lounging around to watch the latest political debate. However, the brute, Cole, barged into my room and told me we’re going.
I know for a fact he doesn’t like parties and that the only reason he attends them is to observe everyone, to tuck in their habits and weaknesses for later use — especially his friends.
He feels like they could be the most threatening to him considering they’ve known him the longest, so he needs to be prepared for them.
When I told him he’s too distrustful, he said he’s only prepared because they’re fuckers. His words, not mine.
He’s wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and his Elites royal blue jacket. They won tonight, so this is some sort of a celebration.
I try not to focus on how the colour blue suits him so well, or how strands of his chestnut hair fall across his forehead, or how good he smells straight out of a shower.
Considering the tingles between my thighs, I’d say I’m failing.
“Why did you drag me out again?” I fold my arms over my chest.
He keeps his attention on the road, driving with one strong hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. God. I’ve always loved how he drives — it’s so effortless and masculine. And he does it with so much confidence, like he could do it with his eyes closed.