He Said Waiting Is Romantic But Not For Me Chapter 08

He Said Waiting Is Romantic But Not For Me Chapter 08

London winter. Always drizzling. 

Friday after work, I walked out of the office building under 

a black umbrella. 

The coffee shop on the corner glowed warm yellow. 

I was about to go in for a hot latte when my feet stopped. 

Under the streetlamp, a man stood. 

He wore a thin coat. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead. 

Stubble. Sunken eyes. 

Cole. 

He saw me and his eyes went red instantly. His body shook in the cold London rain, uncontrollable. 

“Elise.” 

His voice was so wrecked it barely worked. He dragged 

himself toward me. 

I didn’t move. Didn’t run. 

Just stood under my umbrella, looking at the man who’d taken up all my youth. 

He came close. Wanted to touch me. Didn’t dare. 

His hand hovered in the air. 

“I finally found you.” His smile was worse than crying. 

Tears mixed with rain ran down his face. 

“Move,” I said, flat as if talking to a stranger asking for 

directions. 

“Elise, don’t do this to me.” 

Cole broke down, shaking his head. 

“I know I screwed up. I really do. These past six months, I’ve been replaying everything. I fired Tessa. I cut off all the drama. I kept the house exactly the way it was. Even that pothos you planted–I kept it alive.” 

He babbled on, listing all his “changes,” trying to prove he 

was sincere. 

“Elise, I swear–nothing ever happened between me and Tessa. Not once. I never physically cheated on you.” 

I listened and felt something between absurdity and the 

urge to laugh. 

“Cole.” 

I looked him in the eye and cut him off. 

“Do you think 

I care whether you slept with her?” 

He froze. 

“You didn’t sleep with her,” I said, each word quiet and clear. “But you gave her every ounce of patience, every bit of attention, every privilege–even my emergency lifeline. 

Everything that should’ve been mine.” 

“You ran right over every boundary I had so you could play 

the hero.” 

“Your body might be clean. But your heart? It’s 

disgusting.” 

Cole’s face went gray. Bloodless. 

His lips trembled as he tried to defend himself. “That’s not–I just got used to you handling everything. You were so strong, so capable. I thought you didn’t need me.” 

“Right. I’m strong.” 

I looked at him coldly. “But was I born that way?” 

“Cole, every time I got sick or hurt, I did ask you to be there. You told me I was being dramatic. That I was getting in the way of your work.” 

“I wasn’t born not needing you. I learned to shut up after one too many disappointments.” 

“And now? Now I really don’t need you. So get out of my 

way.” 

I stepped around him and headed for the coffee shop. 

Cole spun around. Dropped to his knees. Hard. Right into the puddle on the London street.