Seeing Frankie has me all wound up. In all the years I've known her, I've never seen her cry other than the night that she saw Whitney and me. The night that I pushed her away for good. A night I'll regret for the rest of my life. To know that I was the cause of those tears is eating me alive. To know that my lies, from more than ten years ago, still weigh on her so heavily is fucking killing me.

I pace the front porch, a cup of coffee in my hand as I wait for her to appear from the trail down the street. She's been there a long time, and I'm beginning to get worried. I should’ve fucking stayed to make sure she was okay, but feeling her body tremble under my touch—and not because I was pleasuring her—got to me. I bailed. Just like I've always done.

The sun is finally out and the morning air is beginning to get warmer. Leaning against the patio railing, I sip on my coffee…waiting. Waiting until she appears, walking slowly up the road. I watch her, much like I did yesterday, only this time I'm doing nothing to hide it. Her dark hair whips around her face as a gust of wind catches her.

She pauses ever so quickly when she sees me watching her. Tilting her head down, she presses on, walking faster. She damn near jogs up her driveway, bounding up the dilapidated steps on her front porch, letting herself in through the front door. The door closes with a thud, and I finally breathe a little easier knowing she's home safely.

I kick the railing with the toe of my shoe, knocking off a piece of peeling paint and mentally add one more fucking thing to my to-do list, sand and repaint both front porches. It's time.

Hearing the thud of the door once again from across the street, I glance up to see Faith making a beeline in my direction. Her long hair is wild as if she just woke up, which it appears she has since she's still in her pajamas. I see the fire in her eyes as she draws nearer, and I'm doing my best to not openly laugh at her appearance.

"Morning, Faith," I say, my lips twisting into a smirk as she approaches. I take another quick sip of coffee and brace myself for what is about to come. "Run out of coffee grounds? I've got some in the house." I point over my shoulder with my thumb as she marches up my porch steps.

"Goddammit, Cole. What did I tell you yesterday?" she yells at me, stomping her feet on the old wood porch.

"What?" I look at her, amused as she props her hands on her hips.

"Franny—"

"Frankie," I correct her. Godammit, she's Frankie.

She rolls her eyes at me. "—wants nothing to do with you. Leave her alone, Cole."

"I was there first," I snap at her.

"What are you, thirteen?" she huffs at me.

I take a step toward her and lean down closer to her face. "No, Faith. I'm a thirty-two-year-old man, who went to the fault line to think. Frankie showed up, got upset, and I left. End of story. I'm sorry I was there when she arrived. I had no idea she'd go there. I'm sorry that I upset her." I hold one of my hands up in mock surrender. Faith is fucking pissing me off and I'm in no mood right now to deal with her bullshit.

She exhales loudly and her shoulders slump in defeat. "This is a small town, Cole. Franny," she emphasizes her name for me, "is going to be here for a while, at least until we get Mom back on her feet. I have never asked anything of you, but please, please don’t make her being back in Crescent Ridge any harder on her than it already is." Her eyes are tired and she rubs her arms.

My eyes fall to my shoes and I exhale loudly. "That's going to be pretty hard unless I leave town, Faith." I look over across the street at the house where I know she's sitting right now. I set my coffee mug on the railing and lean against it with both hands. Dropping my head, I take in what it is Faith is asking of me. Make myself scarce.

Silence surrounds us as I take a deep breath.

"You destroyed her, Cole," Faith finally speaks, her voice breaking with emotion. "You were her future. She was working so hard to become successful to get you both out of here." Faith stops, clearing her throat to compose herself. "To come home and find out you cheated on her and got another girl pregnant…that destroyed her. That was supposed to be her future, Cole, her baby with you."

I look up from the rotted wood boards on the porch and gaze across the street. As I think about that day that changed everything, I bite at the inside of my lip and swallow my guilt. This is the first time Faith has spoken to me about the past. A past she knows nothing about—other than the lies I created.

Running out of steam, Faith adds, "As I'm sure you can imagine, it wasn't easy for her to come home."

I nod my head in silence, still looking at the little house across the street.

"If you have any respect for her, Cole, leave her alone."

I clear my throat and let Faith's words sink in. Maybe I should make myself scarce. But then the front door opens, and my heart leaps in anticipation of seeing her again, even just a glimpse. Damn, I’m pathetic.

My heart drops almost immediately when I see Maggie stepping out. "Mom!" she hollers from the open doorway.

"I'll be right there," Faith yells back, but makes no attempt to leave.

Changing the subject, I nod toward Maggie. "She reminds me so much of Frankie at that age." I can’t help but say something.

Maggie stands on the porch across the street, her arms folded across her chest as she watches Faith's and my silent showdown.

Faith looks away at Maggie, then back to me. "Maggie told me about the little back and forth thing you two have going on."

I huff out a short laugh. "Is that right?"

"She doesn't know what happened with you and Franny, but Mom said something to her. So I know she's upset with you." Her anger seems to have subsided and she fights back a stiff smile.

"That's three Callaway women who have it out for me." I chuckle. "Seems like your mom is the only one who has, or may have, forgiven me." I turn to look at Faith, who is still watching Maggie across the street.

"Cole, just do what I asked of you, please?"

"She married?" I blurt out, catching Faith off guard.

She stands up straighter and cocks her head. I can see her debating whether to answer me, debating whether I even deserve that answer. "Not yet, but she's engaged. To a really great guy. Ted. He's a lawyer, too." Her mouth quirks up into an almost smug smirk, and I can tell she's happy to stick the knife in my back and twist it.

I feel a fire in my bones knowing she’s engaged. "Ted," I snort. "Nobody great is named Ted."

"Cole…" she starts, getting annoyed with me.

"Was hard to miss that ring on her finger," I remark. "Looks like he treats her well." I grab the coffee mug off the railing and walk to the screen door.

Faith snorts. "If by ‘well’, you mean he doesn't cheat on her and knock up another woman, yep. He treats her really well."

I freeze, momentarily stunned by Faith's words. I deserve another knife in the back—as much as it fucking hurts.

With those parting comments, I let the door slam closed behind me and mutter a quiet, "fuck off," to Faith.