I had been home for less than three hours when Mom handed me a box of string lights.

“Take these outside,” she said. “Your brother needs help.”

“I drove four hours to get here,” I said.

Mom smiled. “And now you can stretch your legs.”

Outside, tables covered the grass, chairs were stacked by the shed, and Dad was already arguing about the weather.

Jake’s wedding was four days away.

I found my brother near a pickup truck.

Then I noticed the man beside him.

Cole Bennett.

I had not spent real time around Cole in years, but at nineteen, he had been almost impossible for me to ignore.

He teased me constantly. We caught each other looking across rooms. Once, at a bonfire, his knee rested against mine for nearly an hour and neither of us moved.

I never knew if it meant anything.

Then Jake told me Cole had started seeing someone.

After that, the tension disappeared. Over the years, I heard bits of Cole’s life through Jake, and somewhere along the way I came to believe he had married her.

Whenever Cole and I crossed paths after that, he was polite but distant.

So I eventually decided I had imagined most of it.

Cole looked up from the truck.

“Hannah,” he called.

“Hi, Cole.”

He walked over.

“You actually came early,” he said.

“I was threatened by the bride.”

“That sounds like Sophie.”

“And Mom.”

Cole nodded. “More serious.”

I laughed.

Talking to him still felt familiar.

He nodded toward the lights. “Where are those going?”

“Somewhere over there,” I said, pointing toward the posts.

“I am heading that way,” Cole said. “I can take them.”

“I can carry a box.”

“I know,” he said. “I am already going there.”

I looked at him.

Cole waited.

Finally, I handed it over.

“There,” he said. “Painless.”

“Do not make me regret it.”

Cole smiled. “There she is.”

Before I could ask what that meant, Jake shouted across the grass.

“Cole, I need you.”

Cole turned toward him. “Coming.”

Then he looked back at me.

“Good to see you, Hannah,” he said.

His voice had lost the teasing edge.

“You too,” I said.

He walked away.

I watched him rejoin Jake for a second.

Cole was older. Quieter. More settled.

But I did not feel nineteen again.

Not exactly.

I went back to work.

Later, while I was tying ribbon around a chair, Cole reached past me for a roll of tape.

That was when I noticed his left hand.

No wedding ring.

I looked away.

Maybe he did not wear it while working.

That made sense.

Except twenty minutes later, he handed Dad a drill.

Still no ring.

Then he carried a table past me.

No ring.

I became annoyed with myself for noticing.

By late afternoon, I was fighting with a strand of lights when Cole stopped beside me.

“You have that backwards,” he said.

“I do not.”

Cole pointed at the cord. “The plug is on the wrong end.”

I looked down.

He was right.

I sighed. “You could have kept walking.”

“I could have,” he said. “But then I would miss this.”

“Miss what?” I asked.

“The part where you realize I am right.”

Cole smiled.

“Go away,” I said.

“I am helping.”

“You are enjoying this.”

“That too,” he said.

He walked off.

Again, my eyes landed on his bare left hand.

That evening, Jake went inside for a beer.

I followed him.

He opened the refrigerator and glanced at me.

“What?” he asked.

“I did not say anything.”

“You followed me into the kitchen.”

“I wanted water.”

“The water is outside,” Jake said.

Being twins meant Jake knew exactly when I was pretending to be casual.

“What do you want to ask me?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“Hannah.”

I grabbed a bottle of water.

Then I gave up.

“How is Cole?” I asked.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Cole?”

“Yes. Generally.”

“He is fine.”

“Okay.”

Jake kept staring at me.

I twisted the cap off my water.

Then I asked, “When did he get divorced?”

Jake froze.

His beer stopped halfway to his mouth.

I frowned. “What?”

Jake lowered the bottle.

“Why are you asking me that?” he said.

“Because he is not wearing a ring.”

Jake stared at me.

“What ring?” he asked.

“His wedding ring.”

The look on Jake’s face changed.

My stomach tightened.

“What?” I asked.

Jake glanced toward the kitchen door.

“I thought Cole was married,” I said. “So when did he get divorced?”

Jake was silent.

“Jake?”

He looked back at me.

Then he asked, very carefully, “What divorce?”

…Wait, why did Jake react like that? Hannah clearly missed something years ago, and now I need answers. Like this episode and share it with someone who loves a slow burn.