Hell Sweet, Kayla

14

The ride to his father's villa was silence and awkward. Neither of us uttered a word to each other basking in the tranquility of feigned silence, well, mostly on my part.

Screaming in my head at the voices deafening me to speak out choosing to refrain my next choice of words that may trigger the beast in Cole.

Sighing, I leaned back on the leather seat fiddling with my thumb not sure how to cut through the thick tension dancing in the air suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

My phone vibrates seeing Zimra’s smiling face appear on the screen. I end it. Not now, Zim.

She wants to hear the freaky-freaky details. If I got my big ‘O’ at last. Did I have a chance at convincing Cole about New York she talked me into?

Everything, everything I planned for our best day went down the drain. Poof.

I felt drained mentally, physically and emotionally.

Having both our fight and his father in a hospital boggling my thoughts, not aware of which weighed me down more.

I wish I can read his thoughts to check if he thinks the same, maybe this time he does mean those heartfelt words he said to me in the shower.

Yet, the silence mocks me. Why?

I hate it. Whatever it is, I hate it so much.

Was it because we just came out of a fight trying to recover or we had no words to say to each other looking straight ahead on the road like zombies in a horror movie aside the cosplay.

Or we had so much to say; but we rather not.

My head turns to Cole, to see if he volunteers being the one with big boy pants and strike a conversation; no, he rather stares ahead, still and void of emotion building an even bigger barrier between us.

Not once looking at me, I bite my lip willing my body to face away with the expectation that watching the trees might create a calm I direly desire.

Soon enough, I feel his strong hand wrap mine into his, I breath, popping out a very moist lip. My eyes flutter close clutching his tightly in fear of the unknown.

This is our last chance and I can’t lose him. We have come this far to let go.

Tears gathers in my eyes but I dare not open up, else it spills away my fear, regret and pains.

Getting to the manor much to our surprise, his father had blatantly refuse to stay back in the hospital, something about the anesthetics makes him icky. 

Swallowing back the bubbling laugh hearing as he grumbles the word to his wife. Didn’t know older men use the word ‘icky’ when expressing themselves.

Preferred to have a stay home doctor to carry on his routine checkups.

I caught a glimpse of him just outside the door of his room not wanting to disrupt the family reunion after long as he lay on the bed given that Cole made it an aim to exempt himself from such gathering.

Seated to his right is his wife caressing his hand soothingly, Cole’s stepmom.

My eyes linger on the affectionate duo slowly shifting my gaze towards Zayn by the window commuting with the doctor, and Cole standing in front of the bed hands deep in his black pant having emote talk with his dad.

You can easily mistake both male for brothers or twin. The resemblance uncanny, yet settling.

Smiling, I quietly make myself scarce leaving the family to it secluding to the one of the balconies out looking the pool. The same pool I ran to when...