“Thank you.” It dawns on me too late when I realize he said Haywoods—plural. Oh, shit. Do I dart to the door and make a run for it? Or stay and hope Cooper finds me first?
I’ve never been much of an eavesdropper, but when I hear voices travel from the living room around the corner and off the marble floors to my ears, and the name Cooper is mentioned, I listen.
“He doesn’t know what he wants . . .” His mom. Her voice trails into a whisper.
“He does.” I’d know that voice anywhere. My blood pressure rises from the sound of Camille’s high octave. Why is she even here? “We’re not allowing him to have it.” I perk up. That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard come from her mouth.
“Camille, dear, Cooper is too different from her. He’s strong-willed and has all the connections in the world to make him successful. You’ll plant the seed, water it, and watch him grow into the man we know he can be.” I hate that she refers to him as a plant. He once made the same comparison because I was the sunlight he needed.
She goes on to say, “He will come around. I promise you.” Those Haywoods love to make promises. They’re just words to them with no meaning.
“In the meantime?” Camille asks.
“In the meantime, we continue to encourage him. It’s been a rough week. For all of us. He needs time to heal, but we’ll get through this as a family.” Get through what? They won.
Oh, his heartbreak?
Is it wrong to hope?
The sound of the heels clicking across the floors has me standing and grasping my hands in front of me nervously. I want to see him, not them. I have nothing to say to either of them ever again.
The topic of their conversation turns into gardening advice as they round the corner. His mother says, “You must plant that double heirloom in your garden, Camille. It has the most fragrant—” Their eyes meet mine at the same time.
Camille gasps, so I feel like I’m one-love at this stage in the match. Stopped and staring at me with mouths gaping open, his mother yanks on the hem of her jacket and stands up straighter. “What are you doing here? Who let you in?”
I look behind them, but I haven’t seen him since he left to supposedly tell them of my arrival. “Some man did. I’m here to see Cooper.”
“Well, you can’t,” she snaps. “He’s resting.”
“I can wait. I drove all this—”
“I don’t care how far you drove. We’re not allowing any visitors.” Camille is smart enough to make an exit.
I ask, “You’re not allowing?”
“You’re not allowed. He doesn’t want to see you.” She raises her chin, her snobbish air infiltrating the foyer and filling it with tension. “I don’t blame him. He now understands the kind of person in which he commingled.” His mom goes quiet, her lips as terse as her words.
“Commingled? Like mingling?” I ask stupidly when I know I shouldn’t have. It just gives her the advantage.
“No, dear,” she says condescendingly. “The legal term used in regard to money.” She leans back and peeks out the window. “Have you been enjoying his car?”
Everything comes down to money with these people. “I’d rather have him.”
“I’m sure you would, but as you’ll not be getting him, maybe we can cut a deal for the vehicle. How about you hold it in exchange for never contacting my son again.”
Stunned that anyone even thinks to make an offer like that . . . she’s pure evil.
I start for the stairs, refusing to sit here and make a deal with the devil herself as she insults me every chance she gets. “Ms. Salenger?” I keep walking. I’ll find his room in this mansion somehow. She says, “If you take one more step, Story, I’ll have you arrested.”
I stop because I believe her. What was I thinking? How did I imagine this playing out? Not going to jail would be a good start.
My head catches up to the moment, and swirls, making me feel light-headed. I’m quick to grab the railing, worried I’ll take a fall if I don’t. I rub my temple in an attempt to assuage the rush that keeps me off-balance and try to make this nightmare go away. But when I open my eyes, I’m still in the middle of it.
I turn back to his mother, and our eyes lock together. For a moment, I believe I see sympathy softening the faint lines beside her eyes and the darkness that hovers in her brow. It disappears just as my better senses return. I reply, “Cooper and I had become one. Commingling is when there’s a breach of trust. That wasn’t the case with us.”
“Are you sure?”
I’m sensing there’s a bigger picture I’m not privy to. I can only imagine the brainwashing they’ve performed this week with me not around. The file . . . I can assume it was provided by them since it was first seen in Camille’s hand. They orchestrated everything. Cooper set it in motion, but they took advantage of the crisis. “Despite what you think you know, Cooper loves me.” I know that. He does. We just aren’t in a place to be like we were once before. “No matter how hard you try to deny it, we will always feel that love inside, even if we’re not together.”
The last thing I want is an arrest record, so feeling steady on my feet again, I carefully walk down the stairs.
When I reach the tiled floor, she’s there to see me out. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed. I imagine it’s a great loss to lose Cooper. But did you really think it would work out?” She raises a finely plucked brow. “What could you possibly have in common? You, the girl from the wrong side of town with no mother to speak of and no clue who your father is. You’ve done better than expected by all standards of society. You’ll continue that journey without my son because he deserves someone with the same pedigree standing by his side.”
I could let her words sting, but they were expected. She’s attacking because she knows there’s truth in my words. I walk to the door. “I’m surprised you gave me the courtesy of stabbing me in the chest when it would’ve been so much easier in the back. But that’s what arrogance does. It makes you feel superior to those you feel you’re above. But it also reveals your weakness.”
“My weakness is my child.”
“Cooper’s not a child, and trust me, he never belonged to you.”
She opens the door and looks me over once more. “If you choose to become a mother one day, you’ll understand why I’m doing this. As a mother, I will do anything to protect my child.”
“One day” is not as far off as she believes, but I’ll give her credit where it’s due. I will do anything to protect my child . . . from her. Even if it means giving up the love of my life.
Six Years Later
Part III
When You Least Expect It
“That’s quite the victory. You should be very pleased, Cooper.”
I’m too busy staring at the settlement in my hands to focus on celebrations or participate in a round of back-patting.
All legal fees are paid.
Trust funds from relatives I never knew are now available to access.
No contact—the condition I added agreed upon.
But it’s the amendment my parents added that I keep rereading. It’s hush money at best. They’ll do anything to save their reputation and re-stabilize their standing in society.
I’ve spent years fighting for what’s rightfully mine, what was taken from me illegally, that I’ll never get back . . . like other things, and people . . .
Specifically, Story.
But like my lawyer said, this is a victory in most ways. I just didn’t expect to have to sacrifice my life to win.
34
Story
New York City
* * *
“It’s an amazing turnout, Story.” Lila one-arm hugs me since her other hand is busy holding Reed’s hand. “You know how I feel about your photography already, but I’m blown away by this exhibit. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you. That means so much to me. Annnnd,” I say, booping Reed on the nose. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without your help.”