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I
S I LVER
n the end, life goes on.
Mum was fine, and in her words, she only needed to clear her head
in a place where Papa doesn't exist. Usually, she makes him appear as
the villain every chance 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
