Chapter 15: The ghost dad reveal
1685 Words
Maya’s POV
I placed my book on the table and took a sip, narrowing my eyes slightly at the warm cup in my hands.
"And you remembered how I take it. Should I be flattered or worried that you’ve memorized my caffeine preferences?"
"I’m a details man, Maya," Cole said, leaning back and draping his arm over the leather seat. "People think I’m just noise, but I’m actually a very good listener. For instance, I know you come here because you like the silence. And I also know you’re a night owl. Y'know, most people with your GPA are tucked in with a highlighter by now."
"The world is quieter at night," I said, taking another sip.
"Tell me about it," he replied, leaning back.
He kept the conversation light, observing me the same way I was observing him. We talked about nothing for twenty minutes-- the absurdity of the intro-psych curriculum, the way the Dean looked like a disgruntled owl. But at one point I brought up the topic about his bad boy personality again.
"Cole, why do you put all your effort into being a king of a kingdom you don't even like? I honestly don't think you love your life," I said, pinning him with my gaze.
He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "I mean it beats the alternative, Maya. Being the guy nobody notices? That’s just a slow death." He looked down at his coffee, swirling the dark liquid.
"Is this where the hollow you shows me his hidden depths? Is there a tragic backstory involving a lost puppy or a misunderstood childhood?" I asked softly with a small smile, a faint trace of irony in my voice.
He let out a dry, humorless laugh. He looked down at the table, tracing a scratch in the wood with his thumb. "No puppies. Just a ghost."
The air between us shifted, taking on a sudden, heavy gravity.
"I don’t know. Maybe I just got the hollow genes. I mean, my old man was a master of the disappearing act, so..." He looked up, meeting my eyes with a heavy smirk. "He’s the guy in the polaroids my mom keeps in a box. Walked out before I was born because he wasn't 'mentally ready' for a kid. I guess he had a genuine connection with the front door."
My face remained neutral, but my grip on the coffee cup tightened.
Why is he telling me this?
"I decided early on that if I was going to be empty, I’d be the loudest empty room in the building," he continued, the words spilling out smoothly. "Because my whole life, I’ve been a reminder of a man who didn't want to stay. And I spent my childhood trying to be enough to make up for a ghost, only to realize that you can’t compete with someone who isn't there to lose."
I leaned back against the booth. My expression didn't soften. If anything, it sharpened.
He didn't look like he just made up the story. But he didn't look like someone who genuinely felt like opening up either.
It's like.. like the emotion is there, but forced.
"So that’s why you do it?" I asked, my voice deliberate.
"Do what?"
"The f**k boy routine," I said. "The hit and leave. You’re so terrified of being the kid that someone didn't want to stay for that you’ve turned yourself into the man who never stays. Every girl you walk away from is just a preemptive strike. You’re leaving them before they can find out you're not worth staying for, just like he did."
His jaw tightened, a hot flash of tension crossing his features.
"You know, that was actually good, Cole," I said quietly.
"What?"
"Your story. The ghost dad reveal. The vulnerability leak. You almost had me," I said, my tone flat. "Is it another layer? Another mask you keep in the back of the closet for the girls who aren't impressed by the tattoos?"
"Maya-- " the name scraped through his gritted teeth.
"You’re his twin, you know," I cut him off smoothly. "You’re just like the man you hate. He left all at once; you leave in small increments every single night. You use your story as an excuse to be a jerk because it’s easier than actually trying to be a person."
The color drained from his face.
"You don't f*****g know me," he snapped, his voice sharp and harsh in the quiet space of the café.
"But I see you, Cole," I countered, keeping my gaze steady. "And that’s what scares you."
He slammed his hand onto the table, the sound echoing loudly off the walls. "That's it, we're done. The debt is f*****g paid, Maya."
He stood up, his chair screeching against the floor, and turned to walk out into the pouring rain.
I stayed in the booth, staring down at my cup.
Was I too harsh?
But I wouldn't have to be if he wasn't such a jerk.
Not even two minutes passed and I saw him walk straight back into the café, drenched.
"Get up," he commanded, his voice tight.
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we were 'done,' Cole."
But deep down I was.. I was actually glad he came back?
"It’s late and it’s pouring," he growled, rain dripping from his hair onto the floor. "I’m taking you home. Just... get in the truck, Maya. Don't make me drag you."
"I have my own car, Cole. I don't need a chauffeur."
Why was I resisting? If I went with him, won't it just show him a crack in my composure? Won't it make him want to see me more?
"I don't care if you have a private jet," he snapped, leaning over the table. "I’m an asshole, but I’m an asshole with a conscience tonight. Get in before I change my mind."
"I said no."
"And I said I’m f*****g taking you home."
I stared at him for a long beat, assessing the sheer frustration vibrating off him. Finally, I gathered my things and stood up.
Cole opened the passenger door for me, waiting until I was inside before walking around to the driver's side.
I found myself smiling to the empty car as I watched him get soaked up by the rain.
Even after I made him so angry, he still came back for me? He'd still take the trouble to take me home?
He got into the car and slammed the door shut, the dark interior instantly filling with the smell of wet leather and rain. I instantly forced the smile off my face.
He turned to me, his breathing heavy as he snapped.
"You want to know what's f*****g real?!" he spat, his voice raw. "Real is me not knowing whether to be f*****g okay or f*****g hurt after losing a f*****g child! Real is me not knowing if my life is even worth living! Real, Maya, is me not knowing if I'd f*****g recognize myself if I lived a f*****g different life!"
He took a sharp moment to catch his breath, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
I stared at him, caught entirely off guard.
Wait, he had a child?
"Where?" His voice was laced with a dying anger, his eyes glaring straight ahead at the rain-streaked windshield.
"The Heights, fifth street, third building on the right," I answered quietly.
He put the car in drive and pulled out into the dark streets. The ride wasn't long, but the air inside the car felt agonizingly thick.
I looked over at him. "You had a child?"
Cole kept his eyes glued to the road, his jaw set in a hard line. He didn't answer.
"Was it a random girl?" I asked softly. "The mother?"
"What? No," Cole said, his voice flat. "She wasn't a random girl. She was... something else."
A heavy moment of silence stretched between us as the wipers scraped against the glass.
"She miscarried," he added quietly.
I gripped the fabric of my jeans, a sudden, cold knot forming in my stomach.
"Your girlfriend?"
He shook his head once. "It's complicated."
Silence settled over the truck again.
"And you... you wanted to keep it? The baby?"
Cole shot me a brief, pained glance. "Of course, Maya. That's my child. Please, enough with your questions."
The rest of the short journey was completely silent.
When he pulled up to the curb of my building, I opened the door and paused.
"You don't have to keep performing, Cole. Not for me."
I stepped out of the truck, closed the door with a solid thud, and walked inside without looking back.
I climbed the stairs to my room, my feet heavy. As I reached the landing, my mother stepped out into the hallway, looking at me with concerned eyes.
"Maya? Are you okay, sweetie?"
"I'm fine," I brushed her off quickly, stepping past her and ducking into my bedroom.
I closed the door behind me and locked it. I slid down until I was kneeling on the floor, my back pressed firmly against the wood.
Guilt washed over me in violent, suffocating waves.
Even someone as flawed, reckless, and broken as Cole had wanted to keep his child. Play boys like him weren't supposed to care. They were supposed to run away. But he had wanted to actually be a present father.
And me?
I couldn't even protect mine.
Tears finally broke through, streaming hot and strolled down my face in the quiet darkness of my room as the agonizing realization crushed me.
I'm never going to forget it, am I? How I destroyed my own child...
- Writer
