Till Death(62)

“I was planning to. I know that doesn’t mean much at this point, but I was. Do you remember when we had dinner and I said there was stuff we needed to talk about?”

My brain raced back to the dinner, and I did remember that. “Okay. So the dinner got way off track with everything, but we’ve seen each other nearly every day since then. That’s kind of big news not to mention it.”

“You’re right.” He stepped forward. “But a lot of stuff has been going down. Every time there seemed to be a right time, more shit went down. I have no reason to purposely hide that from you.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t know what to think,” I admitted, tipping my head back against the door. I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not like I believed you were single this whole time. There was even a part of me that accepted you had married. I wanted that—wanted you to be happy and in love. I really did.”

“I know.” He was another foot closer. “But I’m taking it you don’t like actually knowing that I was married.”

Hearing him say that made me want to cringe. “I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. I mean, it just really caught me off guard.”

Cole was in front of me, and I didn’t protest when he took my hands, tugging me away from the door. “Maybe you’ll know how to feel about it after I actually tell you.”

He led me to the couch, and when he sat, he pulled me down beside him. “Her name is Irene. I met her two years after you left. She’s not from around here originally.”

I dropped my hands to my lap and stayed quiet, because honestly, what in the world was I supposed to say to any of this?

“She’s a teacher in London County,” he explained, “and we met at the gym.”

Of course she would be someone who went to a gym, while I’d forgotten what those things looked like on the inside.

Cole leaned back as he rubbed a finger over his brow. “We started off as friends, and I knew it was more for her even from the beginning. She even asked me out first, and we dated for about a year and a half before I proposed to her.”

A horrible, completely irrational twisting motion compressed my chest. I left him, I reminded myself. I had no right to be upset or . . . or jealous of the fact he proposed to someone.

“We married six months later. Small ceremony,” he continued, and I worked to keep my expression open. “Irene is a great woman. We still stay in contact. It’s not often, but I always enjoy seeing her. She did nothing wrong in the marriage.”

Genuinely curious, I asked, “Then what happened?”

A wry smile formed on his lips. “I worked a lot, so I was away from home quite often. She tried to be okay with that, really she did. And I kept telling myself the reason why I worked twelve-hour shifts was because I was new at the FBI. I had to put my time in. Then she wanted to start a family, and that . . . that was the last thing I wanted. God’s honest truth, the moment she sat me down and said she wanted a baby, I didn’t even think about it. Told her that wasn’t happening. Felt like a huge dick, but that’s what I did. She said she was okay with that, and I think she really wanted to be. Truth was, she wasn’t, and I should’ve done the right thing then and ended the marriage.”

Cole shifted forward, resting his arms on his bent legs. “Two years ago, she asked me if I loved her or the job more, and that was when we separated, then divorced. I messed up. I really did. I’m not perfect, Sasha. I should’ve been honest with myself and her. As horrible as it is to say this, I should’ve never married her. Doing so made me the kind of man I never wanted to be.”

I sucked in a soft breath.

“She’s moved on since. Met someone. A doctor, actually. They’ll probably be married within a year.”

Okay. I was way too happy to hear that last part, and that probably didn’t say good things about me. “I . . .” I started to say I was sorry to hear that, because that was the natural response when you learned someone had divorced, but that sure as hell wouldn’t be genuine considering he’d already given me one orgasm and how I felt for him. So I decided to be honest. “I don’t know what to say, Cole. I want to say I’m sorry, but I’m . . . I’m not.” Lifting my gaze to his, I ignored the warmth zipping across my face. “If you were still with her, then we wouldn’t be sitting here.”

His eyes softened. “Babe . . .”

“But I’m wondering if . . . if we’re moving way too fast with everything,” I admitted, and my pulse started skyrocketing again. “Everything has been crazy, and it’s only been a week since we’ve laid eyes on each other and—”

“I haven’t told you everything,” he said.

I stiffened even though I imagined there was a lot he hadn’t had a chance to tell me.

Cole smiled. “For the longest time, I’d convinced myself that it was the job that came between us—the job that made me not even consider having kids.”

My brows snapped together. “It wasn’t?”

“No, babe. It wasn’t the job. As much as I love what I do, I never wanted it to be my life. I made it my life though. What came between Irene and me wasn’t the FBI. It was you.”

“What?” I jerked.

“You heard me right.” He took my hand, holding it between his. “It was you. It’s always been you.”