The shoot the next morning feels tense. Cole's out of sorts and silent. I speak for him, and take over the shoot without him asking me to. At one point he hands me the camera. "Time to show off, Lamore. Do your best. I have what I need." Cole moves to the back of the room and presses a button. Regina shows up and he disappears into the back, out of sight.
The client is patient. She knows of Cole and his work, and she trusts him. She doesn't bat an eye at Cole handing the shoot over to me, which makes me even more nervous. Why does everyone think I can do this but me? After a few poses I feel less nervous. I start to see what I want to shoot and I forget that I haven't shot on my own yet. I don't worry about Cole yelling at me for messing up the session. He trusts me, maybe too much. I glance around wondering where he went.
The client and I chat about lots of things until she asks, "Has Cole shot you?"
Her question takes me by surprise. I nod shyly, my cheeks flaming, "As a matter of fact, he has. Although I haven't seen the results yet."
She grins, "I hope you show off his work. There's something about the mind of an artist like Cole. I don't know. It's like he's broken and it just makes me want to fix him. At the same time, if he weren't so messed up, he couldn't create such beautiful work."
She laughs lightly and I stare at her. Is that what draws me to him? Cole's broken. He was abandoned by his parents, leading life totally alone - a life that no one knows about. Cole has been on his own since he was eighteen, since that picture of him in the army uniform. And now something else is happening to him, something that is weighing on him. She is right. I want to fix it. I want to let Cole know he's not alone.
The session continues and I steer the conversation away from Cole. Although I don't know where he's gone, I'm not sure if he can hear us. And a level of protectiveness washes over me when she talks about him like that. I don't know what's tormenting Cole, but I can't make light of it the way she does.
When she leaves, I try to find Cole, but I only see Regina. After the client leaves, Regina moves to the front desk to answer the phone and return calls.
"Where the hell did Cole go?" I ask.
She looks up at me, "I tried to ask, but he took off without a word. He looked pissed, Anna. What happened?"
Wide-eyed, I say, "Nothing. We were shooting, and then he shoved the camera in my hands and walked out. I didn't do anything."
Irritated, I push through the front door and walk outside into the afternoon air. The salty smell of the ocean fills my lungs as I walk down the path behind the studio. My heart falls into my shoes when I see him. He's sitting on a bench between two massive pines with his head in his hands, shoulders hunched toward the ground like he's utterly defeated.
I'm certain he knows I'm there by the time I step next to him, but he doesn't move. To see him like this consumes me with grief. It feels like there are two hands on my throat, pressing away the air. I slip onto the bench next to him. Looking at the scattered pines that stand between us and the ocean, I ask, "How long did it take you to pick this property for the studio? You wanted it for a while, didn't you?"
He doesn't move. After a minute, he turns his face slowly toward me, "How'd you know?"
I shrug, "It just seems like you're familiar with this place in a way that someone who's been here before would be. Maybe more than once." He smiles but it fades too fast. He rubs his hands through his hair and sits up.
"I came here a few times when I was younger. I told myself that if it went up for sale, that I'd get it. Everything about this place reminds me of things I love." He shrugs. "I didn't think I was that transparent."
"You're not," I reply. He arches a brow at me like he doesn't believe me. "That's the only thing that I figured out and I wasn't even sure I was right. "So, do you want to tell me why you walked out of the shoot?" He blinks once at me and returns his gaze to the ground. The expression clearly says NO. "Okay," I say, "Well, at least tell me you're leaving next time."
"There won't be a next time," he says and glances over at me, "I'm going back to the city. You can do this. I don't need me to be here anymore. Besides, there's something that came up and it would be easier to deal with if I were at Le Femme and not here."
My mouth hangs open and I try to snap it shut, but shock washes over me too quickly. After one solo shoot out here, he's leaving? Cole says nothing else. I don't know what to say. It feels like I should be excited, but I'm not. Everything feels wrong.
"So, it's just me and Regina?" He nods and doesn't look up. His gaze is on the ground, on the pebble path beneath his feet. "Cole," he lifts his head and looks at me. I want to take him in my arms and hold him. "You don't have to be alone." He laughs when I say it, but it sounds so tormented that I want to cry. "I'm serious."
"It's not an option for some people, Anna."
"Fine," I say and his dark laughter gets cut short. "Let's accept it. You and I are alone. We rely on no one. We sleep alone, if we sleep at all."
"What are you getting at?" he asks.
"Just that life doesn't have to be so damn lonely." My eyes meet his and I can't look away. Those endless pools of blue pin me in place. Inside my mind I'm pleading with him, begging him to let me in, but I say nothing. There's nothing more to say. Standing, I turn to him and rest my hand on his shoulder, and pause. There are so many things I want to say. I feel the words in my mouth, but I say none of them. My hand slips off his shoulder. I walk away and Cole lets me.