It was a good thing I wasn't a wolf as, by the time Sam opened the door, I was freezing my ass off. Huddled under numerous layers and fidgeting to keep warm, I refrained from giving him a snide comment and instead just said, "Took you long enough."

"Sorry. I… was…" I put a hand up to stop him. He was dishevelled and his wrinkled shirt was hanging open. It didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"Is Cole back yet?" I asked, desperately needing to see him before I left. One phone call was not gonna cut it.

"Cole?" a new voice asked. I recognised it as Grace's and almost didn't want to turn around. Glancing over my shoulder, the sight wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. She'd had time to button up her shirt, but not to brush her hair. It was all stacked on top of her head in a tangle of knots. I tried not to laugh because, as much as I was finding this uncomfortable, I also found it hilarious.

"Yeah. He was coming by." Cole hadn't arrived yet? Of course he hadn't. If he was here, I'd know about it. He'd be cracking jokes about Grace and Sam's indecencies.

Sam's brows furrowed together. "Isabel… When did you speak to Cole?" Holy. Shit. He thought I was seeing ghosts. Or hallucinating. Or hallucinating about seeing ghosts. Cole hadn't even bothered to call them? I should be wondering why, but really, all I could think about was the smugness I felt that he was the only one he'd told of his survival.

"A couple hours ago. He called me, said he was gonna see you next." I was not insane. I was not insane.

Grace's expression mirrored Sam's, and in that moment I was reminded of how perfect they were for each other. They were two halves of the same person. "But Cole's…" Grace began, gulping when she couldn't finish.

But I wasn't letting her off that easy. "Cole's what? Huh? Cole's what? Go ahead, say it. I'm crazy, I'm insane, I'm depressed, whatever. He called me. He survived. He was coming here, soon as. I wanted to see him before… before I leave." Before I choked at the end, Sam was getting ready to jump in as Grace's knight in shining armour and defend her honour. Afterwards, he froze in his tracks, leaving Grace looking guilty and victimised.

"Isabel," Sam insisted, and I knew what was coming without looking at him. "Cole's dead." So he'd succeeded where his girlfriend had fallen.

"Am I?"

A harsh gasp of relief escaped me and I spun on my heal. Cole stood in the doorway. For once in his life, he didn't look perfect. His shirt was in tatters, showing dried blood on his skin, and his face was bruised and bloody. But he was definitely real. Under normal circumstances, I would have looked at Grace and Sam in turn, taking in and savouring their expressions of disbelief as they realised I was right. But today? I launched myself into Cole's arms and felt him immediately welcome my warmth. He crushed me to him so tightly, I was worried that my eyes might pop out of my head. I nuzzled my nose against his neck, happy just to be here, even if Grace and Sam were stood there, watching us. Cole didn't seem to care either as I felt him press his nose into my shoulder.

By the time he let me go, I was sure my back was as bruised as his face, but I didn't register any pain—just blind happiness. With that over, I still had a look of smugness reserved and delivered it to the sceptics. Sam was looking from me, to Cole, and back again. Grace lowered her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

Cole began to tut. "Honestly, you two, such indecencies."

I snorted. Sam gave me a weird look and I blushed. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had found his other half.

"We thought you were…" Sam began, becoming more flustered by the moment.

"Dead," Grace squeaked. She wasn't even trying to hide the amazement from her face, and the sight of her so lost for words made me smile.

"Not our fault you didn't listen." Cole shrugged nonchalantly, and I almost wanted to hug him all over again. But then he turned his attention to me and I waited expectantly for a sarcastic remark that only he thought was smart. Instead, he seemed to contemplate something for a moment before he said, "I thought you were leaving tonight."

"I was. I am," I stammered. What should I tell him? Certainly not the truth; I'd never live it down. "I just came to say goodbye to these two."

"Really? Seems like you could have done that over the phone." Crap. He'd figured me out. He knew that I was here to see him and him only. He wanted me to admit it. Clearly, he didn't know me as well as he thought he did.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see their faces when they broke down crying. I'm what holds them together, you know."

He smirked and nodded along, agreeing. "I don't know how they'll cope without you. They obviously care about you, and it's obviously not going to be easy for them to let you go."

Then it hit me. He wasn't trying to get the truth from me so he could rub it in my face. It was because he wanted to open up as well, and this was his way of doing it. They, in this scenario, were him. He was gonna miss me. He'd just admitted it. I did my best to keep a poker face.

"Well, I'll miss them, too," I conceded, not wanting to give too much away or keep too much hidden from him. This was the last time I'd see Cole St Clair, and it helped a bit to know that I wasn't the only one who'd feel our separation to an extent.

"Well," Sam suddenly declared, "I'm gonna get back to my nap." And he sauntered back to his room. Cole and I gave Grace an expectant look. She waited a moment and then tried to follow him in the subtlest way she knew which, needless to say, was about as stealthy as an elephant in a library. I smirked at the ridiculousness of it all and then turned back to Cole.

"So I guess this is it," I said, just doing my best to end the awkward silence.

"This is what?" he asked. I knew what he was doing—purposefully driving me up the wall. But what I knew was irrelevant. All that mattered was that it was working.

I nodded, accepting that his coded confession was the best I would get, and raised a hand in a wave. "Bye." Before I could drop my hand to my side, he took it in his and traced his thumb over my love line. If this was a deliberate choice or not, I couldn't tell.

His other hand went up to touch my cheek gently as he bent down to kiss me. I was expecting a rough kiss with him shoving his tongue down my throat, but it was sweet and gentle. I put my back against the wall and, as he kissed me so tenderly, I was reminded of something. One other kiss had been like this.

That's how I would kiss you, if I loved you.

The revelation sent shock waves under my skin. He broke the kiss and went on to kiss my nose, my forehead, my neck, all in the same manner—barely brushing his lips against my skin. But it had a much more powerful effect on me than our passionate encounters ever had. I found myself gasping from want as he pulled away to look into my eyes.

"I love you too," I told him in uttermost certainty. I grasped for a hold of his hair and tried to pull him in for another kiss. Using the hand which was still entwined with mine, he pulled me closer to him and kissed me again. Once again, it was the soft sort of kiss, and I found myself pulling away with regret.

"Bye Cole," I said sadly, brushing my lips against his again.

"I'll call you?" he said with a cheeky grin, and I knew he was hoping to get me to smile too. I did so to appease him.

"I'll answer."

"I wish you would."

Voicemail number 20. How could I forget?

"Bye Cole," I repeated, taking one last look before I walked out the door.

After I closed the door, I heard him murmur, "I love you, Isabel," to an empty room. I smiled to myself as I returned to my car.