By midnight, the wedding was over.

Jake and Sophie had left under a tunnel of sparklers, half the guests had gone home, and my parents’ house had finally gone quiet.

Cole and I were still in the kitchen.

He was stacking glasses while I shoved leftover food into containers.

“You missed one,” I said.

Cole looked behind him. “Where?”

I pointed to the counter.

“That is your glass.”

He picked it up. “Then technically I did not miss it.”

“You have always been exhausting.”

“And yet you stayed.”

I looked at him.

Cole paused.

Neither of us said anything for a second.

Then I opened the refrigerator.

“I stayed because my mother would kill me if I left this food out.”

“Right,” he said.

We both knew that was not entirely true.

An hour later, the kitchen was clean, but neither of us had gone upstairs.

Instead, we sat across from each other eating leftover wedding cake straight from the box.

Cole pointed his fork at me.

“So you really lived in Chicago?”

“For three years,” I said.

“You hated winter when you were nineteen.”

“I still hate winter.”

“Then why Chicago?”

“A man.”

Cole nodded slowly. “Of course.”

I laughed. “Do not sound so disappointed.”

“I am not disappointed.”

“You made a face.”

“I made no face.”

“You absolutely made a face.”

Cole smiled and took another bite of cake.

I told him about Chicago, the relationship that had taken me there, and how relieved I had been when both ended.

Cole told me about moving twice for work and the woman he almost bought a house with.

It was strange hearing about all the versions of him I had missed.

The twenty-four-year-old Cole.

The twenty-seven-year-old Cole.

The man sitting across from me now.

At nineteen, I had liked the way he looked at me.

I had liked the teasing and the uncertainty and the stupid thrill of wondering whether he might kiss me.

This was different.

I liked hearing him talk about his life.

I liked that he called his mother every Sunday.

I liked that he had stayed late to clean my parents’ kitchen when nobody asked him to.

That realization scared me more than the old crush ever had.

I put down my fork.

“We lost ten years.”

Cole shook his head.

“No, we did not.”

I frowned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he said. “But we lived those years. You went places. I went places. We became different people.”

“That is very mature of you.”

“I have had ten years to improve.”

I smiled.

Then Cole looked down at the cake.

“I have wondered, though.”

“About what?”

He hesitated.

“What would have happened if Jake had stayed out of it.”

My chest tightened.

I watched him for a moment.

“Do you still wonder?”

Cole looked up.

“Yes.”

That was all he said.

Then he stood.

I barely had time to realize what was happening before he came around the table.

He stopped in front of me.

Close enough that I could have moved away.

I did not.

Cole lifted a hand to my face.

Then he kissed me.

For one second, it was careful.

Then it was not.

I grabbed the front of his shirt, and Cole pulled me closer.

Ten years disappeared far too easily.

His hand moved to my waist.

I kissed him harder.

Then my phone started screaming.

Cole pulled back.

I stared at him, breathing too quickly.

The alarm kept ringing.

“What is that?” he asked.

“My flight.”

His eyebrows pulled together.

I reached for my phone.

“I have to leave for the airport in three hours.”

Cole stepped back.

Reality returned all at once.

The wedding.

Jake.

The lie.

Ten years of wondering what should have happened.

And one kiss that had felt much too easy.

Cole watched me.

“What?” he asked.

“I do not know what this is.”

His expression changed.

“Hannah.”

“I mean it,” I said. “I cannot tell if we are doing this because we want each other now, or because we are angry about what we did not get back then.”

Cole was quiet.

I hated how disappointed he looked.

“I need to go home,” I said.

He nodded.

“Okay.”

He did not argue.

That somehow made leaving worse.

At four in the morning, I came downstairs with my suitcase.

The house was dark.

Cole was sitting alone on the front steps.

He stood when he saw me.

“You are still awake?” I asked.

“I was not tired.”

I stopped beside him.

Neither of us mentioned the kitchen.

My ride was already waiting at the end of the driveway.

Cole looked at me.

“Get home,” he said. “Get away from all of this for a minute.”

I tightened my hand around the suitcase handle.

“And then?”

Cole held my eyes.

“If you still think this was a mistake when you are there, tell me.”

He paused.

“I will not bother you again.”

Oh, that goodbye HURT. Now she has to decide whether that kiss belonged to the past or to them now. Like this episode and share it with someone who needs the ending.