Cole
I didn’t go home.
I rode.
Didn’t have a destination.
Didn’t need one.
When you’ve been in this life long enough, you learn something early.
Men like me don’t stay.
We don’t build houses.
We don’t get attached to kitchens with chipped mugs and little girls who trust too easily.
We move.
We leave things before they leave us.
That’s the rule.
I broke it.
I parked two streets away from Mara’s place and killed the engine. Sat there in the dark with the helmet still on like I needed to run
She asked for distance.
Not fully.
But enough.
And I gave it.
Because loving her openly right now could cost her everything.
That’s the part people don’t romanticise.
Protection isn’t always standing in the doorway.
Sometimes it’s stepping back so the bullets don’t land on her name.
