That night, Cole holds me as I cry myself to sleep.
I cry for something that was never there. But just because the test was negative doesn’t mean I don’t feel the loss.
It doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m missing a part of me. A chance of an alternative future, of a different life, another…possibility.
Because I know, I just know that if it were real, Cole and I would’ve fought for it. He would’ve taken me somewhere none of the reporters or the people from back home could find us.
Now, I have to return to the reality that I’m fucking my stepbrother and that while there isn’t a baby this time, life as we know it will be over if anyone catches us.
My head’s been in the clouds and now I have to drop back to the ground.
The next morning, Cole tries to drag me into town. He ambushes me after I’m out of my shower, standing in front of the bathroom in his stylish jeans and T-shirt with his hair combed.
No matter how much I love his appearance, I’m in no mood to leave my bed today. “I want to stay in my room until it’s time to go home.”
“Huh.” He stares down at me with his signature blank expression.
“What?”
“I didn’t know you were a bore aside from being a coward.”
“Hey!” I punch him in the shoulder.
The faintest smile grazes his lips. “Forget it. I’ll go without you. I don’t need cowards on my tours.”
I hear him greet the butler good morning and tell him he’ll have breakfast outside.
That wanker.
I throw on a cute peach-coloured mini-dress with a strappy back and gather my hair into a ponytail. After I shove my feet into the first pair of shoes I find, I storm out behind him.
It’s when I’m by the entrance that I realise I haven’t put on any makeup. Whatever. I’m in no mood for that.
I catch up to Cole by the hill of the house, walking slowly.
“I’m not a coward.” I pant as I keep up with his pace.
He smiles but says nothing. Instead, he threads his fingers with mine. The softness of his touch nearly breaks my heart all over again.
Your pain is my pain, Butterfly.
That was the first time I’d been able to breathe since the doctor said it was a false positive. Knowing that Cole, of all people, understood that pain made it less sharp. It’s still there, but I feel a certain type of peace knowing I have him with me.
Wait. He’s holding my hand. He shouldn’t.
I stare over my shoulder and try to wiggle away, but he doesn’t let me go. “Cole! We’re in public.”
“We’re not in England. No one knows us here.” He drags me closer into his side. “Stay still.”
No one knows us here.
The only one who does is probably Lucien’s butler, and he’s out of the picture now.
A surreal sense of levitation takes hold of me as I let Cole lead me in the direction of the nearest town.
Renewed energy engulfs me. I soak in my surroundings, the bright blue sky and the warm sun. In the confines of the tight streets and vintage feel of the roads, it’s like a scene from a novel.
“There was a destructive battle here during the world war,” Cole says as we pass old buildings. “Our troops fought for the French on these same streets.”
I grin, watching him study the old pavement with that curious glint in his eyes. It’s so rare to see him unleash his inner nerd. “Well, it wasn’t our battle, and yet, we lost so many soldiers for it.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” He gives me a curious look.
“Yes, the French got themselves into that mess. We didn’t have to act like knights in shining armour.”
“We were anything but. That’s called a precedent fight, Butterfly. We were going to get involved anyway, so we made the first move and fought the enemy on foreign soil. Those types of battles happened many times over the course of history, like in the Ottoman Empire’s colonisation wars, or the Persians against the Romans.”
“You’re such a nerd.”
He releases my hand and tugs me to the crook of his body by the waist. It’s the first time he’s touched me so possessively in public. It’s almost as if he’s announcing his ownership. “Who are you calling a nerd, Butterfly?”
“You.” I hide my smile. “I bet you can give accurate retellings and even recite what those generals said before every battle.”
“Of course I can. The pre-battle part is the most important. That’s the moment before death. Before chaos.”
Cole called me his chaos before, and I still don’t know whether that’s a good or a bad thing. Since he associates it with death, it’s clear on which side it falls. My heart shrinks as I try to fight off the feeling.
“It’s beautiful,” he says.
“Beautiful?”
“Yes. It’s the unknown, and the unknown can be the most beautiful thing.”
“Or the most horrible one.”
“You never know at that moment. When troops stand there listening to their generals, they don’t know whether they’ll die, be injured, or stay alive. They don’t know if they’ll see their families again or if it’s all over. It’s human nature at its truest form.”
“It’s called survival.”
“It’s called life.” He brushes his lips against my nose. “It’s chaos.”
My heart thumps so hard, I’m scared it’ll stop beating or something.
Oh, shit.
I’m not supposed to be so caught up in him like this. I’m not supposed to wish I’m still his chaos and that he’ll never ever find a replacement.
“Do you want to do something chaotic?” I bite my lower lip.
“Like what?”
I motion at a tattoo parlour across the street from which a couple are exiting, appearing half happy, half in pain.
He raises a brow. “You want to get a tattoo?”
“Together. You and I.” It’s a crazy idea, but I want to commemorate this moment. I want to remember the pain, but also the way Cole held me through it.
We’ll eventually go home, and I want to keep the moment where we got to hold hands in public as a permanent reminder of today.
I expect him to refuse since Cole isn’t the type who likes to mark skin — at least not permanently, but then he says, “I get to choose what you put on your skin.”
I jut my chin. “And I get to choose what you put on yours.”
His lips tilt in a charming smile. “Deal.”
In the parlour, we decide to get tattoos on our sides since they can be easily hidden by clothes. Cole demands that the woman take care of me, not the man. Which is fine by me since that means she won’t be touching him.
Two hours later, and after so much pain that almost brought me to tears, we stand in front of each other in the middle of a room with dark walls.
“Show me.” I motion at his T-shirt.
“You first.”
“At the same time?”
He nods and we lift our clothes, baring our skin at the same time. Cole got the tattoo I chose for him and it’s even more beautiful than I imagined. The skin around it is red due to how fresh it is, but the design is clear. It’s an open book with tendrils of smoke coming out and on top of it, written in a neat font is the word ‘CHAOS.’
“It’s so beautiful,” I breathe out, approaching him to get a better view.
Cole holds me at arm’s length. “Stay there, I still haven’t gotten my fill.”
I remain in place, swallowing at the intense way he’s examining my tattoo. It’s a butterfly. And not just any butterfly. Cole sketched something that’s identical to the butterfly pin I wore that day ten years ago in the park.
The tattoo came out perfect with all the small details in the wing. It’s an exact match to the pin and similar to the necklace around my throat.
“So?” I ask. “You like it?”
“I love it.” He plants a kiss on my nose.
My toes curl like they do every time he does that. It’s softness where Cole is usually hard. It’s something he only does with me.
After we leave the tattoo parlour, we roam the streets, hand in hand, as Cole tells me more history.
The smell of baked goods lures me in like a cartoon character when we pass by a small pastry shop.
“Let’s try croissants,” I tell him.
Cole buys us croissants au chocolat and we sit at a small table in front of the shop. There are a few old patrons at the surrounding tables, and they seem relaxed, enjoying the bright weather.
I take a bite of the hot croissant and moan in pleasure. “Now I’m craving a Snickers bar. Let’s find some afterwards…”
I lift my head and stop chewing when I find Cole’s darkened eyes zeroed in on me.
He’s sitting opposite me with the small table separating us. He’s close enough that I smell his cinnamon scent and inhale it into my lungs.
The way he’s looking at me is so sinister, it’s like he’ll grab me and fuck me on the table right here, right now.
I clear my throat, but my voice comes out breathy anyway. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Why did you just moan?”
“I-I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. Don’t lie to me.”
“It was because of the croissant.”
“And here I thought you were seducing me.”
“I-I wasn’t.”
“Well, it worked.”
“C-Cole —”
My words die in my throat when he grips my chin with two fingers and pulls me close before his lips claim mine. It’s an open-mouthed kiss, all tongues and teeth and…freedom.
Neither of us worries that we’re in public or that we shouldn’t be doing this or that someone will see.
Fuck them.
Fuck everyone.
Because this thing that beats between us is way stronger than their words and their judgement.
The loss we felt is way deeper than societal standards and forbidden relationships.
It’s us.
As twisted as it is.
We don’t stop kissing that day. We make out in the streets. In the grocery store. Everywhere. We give the people in town a PDA they never signed up for.
I take pictures with a barely-willing Cole who hardly looks at the camera and refuses to pose unless it involves a kiss or me touching him.
I commemorate every moment and every second. I document the time where I get to kiss him anywhere I want.
Because real life will strike again.
Real life will rip us apart.
And the only place I can have him is behind closed doors.
