“Um, are you okay?” he asks, and I step back quickly, glancing at his face to find his brows furrowed.
He raises his hands before him to show me he wasn’t going to touch me, and I harrumph before turning away. Fuck him and fuck Sofia. I throw the hoe with all my might, and it sails over the grass before bouncing twice and landing.
“No,” I shout, “I’m not okay!”
He stands before me with an unreadable expression, his hands still in the air, and I step toward him and wave my finger in his face, rasping through my aching throat, “You had something to do with this. I know it.”
“With what?” he asks slowly, his eyes searching mine.
“You know,” I shout, my finger still waving erratically, my voice breaking as I continue, “Manny and . . . Katie.”
“What? That’s . . . No, Lola, no. What do you even mean?” he rasps.
I look up at him, really look, and I see a weird expression cross his features before they harden, and he backs away. “Don’t be ridiculous. We wouldn’t hurt them.”
Silently, I watch him walk away before turning back to my work, only to find Cole standing behind me. My eyes roll in my head. I can’t stop it. I know I should, but I am fucking sure that Cole is judging me right now.
“What?” I grind out between clenched teeth.
His mouth curls into a frown and he sighs, saying softly, “Nothing.”
“Nuh-uh, no,” I say, stepping back and sniping at him, “You don’t get to do this.”
“Do what, Lola?” he asks solemnly.
“This,” I shriek, waving my hands around for emphasis. “This. Stop with the judgy looks.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” he says, rubbing his hand over his face.
“That,” I scream, waving at his face. “That look, that is what I am talking about.”
“Lo,” he says, “this isn’t good for you. You need to stop. I know you’re hurting, but accusing people of killing Manny is not helping matters. You’re too focused on your rage and ridiculous theories, so you don’t have to feel anything else.”
“Ha!” I snort.
He eyes me as if I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have because I lay into him. “Don’t you dare talk to me about grieving, Cole Beckett. You’re shit at it. You don’t talk to anyone. You avoid everyone. You wouldn’t know what a genuine emotion is if it struck you in the face. You suck at grieving.”
I’m so angry that I shove him in the chest, and he steps back with the motion, which is him allowing me to push him because he’s a brick fucking wall. Blankly, he stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head. “Maybe that’s true, Lola. But at least I’m grieving. And forgive me for being devastated about losing my unborn fucking child.”
“Whatever,” I snarl at him, turning my head away from the pain in his eyes. Fuck, my heart is pounding so hard, but I’m so angry at the same time. It’s crawling beneath my skin, and I can’t let it go because if I do, I’m giving in, and Manny deserves more than that. Katie deserves more.
“Stop acting like a bitch, Lola. This isn’t helping,” he fires back.
“Fuck you, Cole!” I shout before walking away. I’m shaking so badly my knees are weak, and as soon as I’m around the corner, I lean against the wall and wipe away the tears streaming down my face. Shit. What the fuck did I just do?
Shame blazes a trail through my stomach, and I lean over, gasping as panic roars through my system. I just threw Cole’s pain in his face like a total dick.
What is wrong with me?
Clutching my tight chest, I fight the surge of anxiety until my lungs clear and I can breathe deeply again. But I’m still here, Manny’s still dead, and I just lashed out at Cole like an ass. Fuck me.
What am I going to do now?
I nurse my wounds on the wraparound porch, the spot where Manny and I used to hang out and discuss our woes. Now it’s just me with no Manny to impart the jewels of wisdom he used to give. I miss him so much, and there’s a hole in my heart where he used to be and I don’t know how to get past it. Fuck.
With a sigh, I harrumph again and cross my arms over my chest like the petulant child I know I’m being.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Michele asks, plopping down beside me.