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