Cole’s eyes flutter closed for a brief moment.

Tears spring to my eyes again. When Cole opens his and sees my emotion, he pulls me into his chest. I rest my head against him and feel the rhythm of his heartbeat.

We sit like this for a few minutes. Cole strums my back as I nestle against him. I wish I could pause time and keep things just like this—in a place where everything seems manageable. Where there’s hope.

Cole pulls me tighter against him.

“Can I do anything?” he asks, his voice soft.

“Not really.” My voice sounds distant, like it’s not coming from me. “I’m organizing a meal train for them so they don’t have to worry about food. And there’s a church in town that will organize chores—like housecleaning and picking up groceries for families that are going through stuff like this. So I’m going to call them tomorrow too.”

Cole refastens his arms around me.

“That’s the saddest part of all,” I say, my heart aching. “The world is so cold. It just keeps on spinning when tragedy strikes. Kirk and Charlotte are trying to spend their last months together, and the toilet still needs cleaning. The laundry needs washing. Life just goes on in the most unforgiving way.”

“I know my mom would like to help you.” His voice wavers. “If you need help getting this organized, I know she’d be happy to jump in with anything you need.”

I fist his shirt in my hands and smile against him. “Thank you.”

My adrenaline must drop because I shiver. Cole grabs a blanket off the back of the sofa and covers me.

I close my eyes as the exhaustion from the day’s events seeps into my soul. Every muscle in my body hurts as if I’ve just run a marathon. I just want to sleep and deal with this later.

“How are things going to work for you at the office?” he asks.

Oof.

“Kirk might close the doors,” I say, the words hollow.

I can’t believe I just said that.

As much as I want to simply hide in Cole’s arms, I can’t. It’s not how I roll. I don’t operate like that. Besides, I’m sure Cole doesn’t want me sitting here soaking his shirt all night anyway.

“Really?” Cole asks, surprise in his eyes.

I climb off his lap and sit next to him. He pulls my legs over his lap. Then he rearranges my blanket again.

“Yeah,” I say, relaxing as best I can against the sofa. “I’m trying to keep things going. I just . . . I’ll probably need to spend another three or four hours a day there to make sure everything is done. I’ll try to redistribute some things because I can’t be away from the house and Ethan all day and night.”