I’ll take him. I’ll take him somewhere far away if I’m threatened.
I need to protect my son. If Cooper knows, he could try to take him from me. He’ll win because I withheld the information. No judge will believe the girl from the wrong side of the tracks versus a name synonymous with prestige in this city. Cooper has more money than the devil. I can’t fight against that. My good intentions will never win against the evil of Haywood money.
Panicking again, I feel my hands begin to shake. Before I have time to tuck them under the table, he reaches over and covers one. “I meant what I said. I don’t blame you for what you did.” I hadn’t noticed how the panic had subsided or how my hands calmed under his. I didn’t notice until he sat back again. “I’m not mad. I’m . . .” Now he struggles to find the words like I do.
He dips his gaze to the napkin in his lap. If I were to take a photo of him, I’d name it Defeated Man.
The past doesn’t weigh me down so much when I realize how much of the burden he’s been carrying. Two minutes ago, I almost went to the bathroom and left, ready to disappear until my son . . . our son turned eighteen. But when Cooper looks up, he has tears in his eyes, muting the brighter green into a soothing sage, though I find no comfort in the downfall of Cooper Haywood. He is a victim of his circumstances.
The same as I am.
He says, “You saved him, which is something no one did for me.”
My heart pangs in my chest, every heartstring that once connected me to this man reattaches. I can’t let my guard down.
“Story . . .” The reverence in his voice is heard as if it’s the lifeline he’s clinging to. Is that what he thinks I can do? Save him by sacrificing my son to the Haywood family tree? “Tell me the truth, Story.”
There’s no anger in his words, nothing but pain defacing his features. I hate how weak I feel. My mom buried us in her lies. I would never want to encumber Reed the same way. I’m not sure what to say, so I stick to silence and try to navigate through the conversation.
Cooper turns his attention to his coffee and takes a drink. When he lowers it again, he says, “I have no contact with my family.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.” I twist the cloth napkin in my lap. “I’m sorry or good for you?”
An easy chuckle breaks through the heaviness, freeing his lips to smile. “The latter probably works best. I sued them.”
Oh. “I didn’t expect you to say that. That must have been very difficult to go through.”
“To go through, yes. To do,” he says, shaking his head. “Not at all. I should have done it sooner. It might have saved us.” His gaze drops with his chin. When he peeks back up, I can see he’s embarrassed—something I never saw on him when we were dating. A light pink even appearing on the apples of his cheeks.
If he ever wanted to charm a woman, that would do it. Humble sincerity is very attractive on him.
“I meant . . .” He laughs again, knowing there’s not really a way to row this boat backward. With a smile still in place, he sighs. “I meant what I said. If I’d done it sooner, we might still be together. I say this knowing that doesn’t change what happened to your mother.”
Shifting in my discomfort, I say, “I’m not in a place to revisit that part of our past. Not yet.”
Yet? Dammit. Why’d I say that like there will be more opportunities? I can’t put my life or Reed’s in jeopardy by allowing a man who could potentially steal my heart again back in. No, I can’t have that because I don’t know where this is going, but it’s not ending with us back together or becoming besties. “We’re having brunch, Cooper. That’s all.”
He nods once. “I understand.”
Then I start to think that maybe this was all planned. Hiding in plain sight under my real name wasn’t hiding at all. I could have always been easily found if someone was looking. This could be a ruse to break me down and get me to trust him again. “If forgiveness is what you’re seeking or you’re in a program where you contact—”
“I’m not. I know forgiveness isn’t possible.” There’s no life in his eyes, but I’ve seen a glimmer of it a few times, always when he smiles.
He’s made no move to threaten me, said nothing to set off alarms. Neither my own safety nor Reed’s has felt like it’s on the line. I’m sensitive to certain topics, but that’s to be expected. I’m not sure that he’s as awful as I’ve imagined him to be for the past six years. I need to suss out the situation before giving him the potential ammo he needs to use against me.
The facts are right in front of us.
* * *
He knows Reed is his son.
He knows how to find me.
The universe is definitely conspiring against me.
* * *
I ask, “Why did you sue your parents?”
“Because I was seventeen when they forced me to sign everything over to them as guardians. I had no representation, and I was a minor. There was nothing legal about the proceeding. But as an attorney, my father knew that,” he answers without hesitation. “I had trust funds that were rightfully mine that they illegally changed the age in which I could access. They even buried them in a Swiss bank account that gave them the oversight to use the money how they saw fit. It was a fucking nightmare.”
“You sued them for money?” Even I hear the judgment in the flatness of my voice.
“I did. Maybe you would have done things differently, taken a higher road. You were always more noble than me. I used the only tool I had to hurt them and to end the manipulations. Money.”
Raising my hands, I swing them across an imaginary marquee. “I would have thought this would be headline news. Your family is so well-known.”
He takes another sip of coffee. Each minute that passes seems to put us both more at ease. And with that ease, I see him again, the man I loved so fiercely that I would have forgiven him for what happened if he’d only fought for me. “The last thing my parents want is a scandal. I got what’s rightfully mine, but they still retain their fortune.”
I grow more in awe of him with each addition to the story. Not because he went to their level, but because he didn’t. He just beat them at their own game. They can afford the best lawyers in the world, but he won. “And you won? Amazing.”
“I won everything I fought for if I signed an NDA and didn’t tell anyone.”
I tilt my head and lean forward, relishing this news. I take a bite of my food and then take a sip of my watered-down Bloody Mary. “Can I ask you something personal?”
He picks up his fork and knife and starts in on the scrambled eggs I know are cold. “Of course.”
Leaning in again, I check our surroundings for spies and eavesdroppers. Since the coast is clear, I whisper, “How good did that revenge taste?”
He swallows his food and then leans in, mimicking me. “Delicious.”
Grinning, I sit back. “God, I wish I could have been there. And when I say there, I mean a fly on the wall when they’d lost it all, including you. They thought money and love were the same thing.”
“Still do.”
Because the tension has mellowed, I start eating again. “I’m not usually supportive of hurting others, but your parents . . .” I bite my tongue. He may have sued them, but does anyone really want to hear that their parents are monsters? That brings me back to what he said earlier.
“I don’t blame you . . . I’m not mad . . . You saved him, something no one did for me.”
Maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe I can trust him.
I didn’t have a father in my life, so I never knew what I was missing, but Calliope kept my hands full anyway. I have the hindsight to look back and pick the moments I love to remember. I’m still shuffling through the ones I want to forget. But my Reed, my sweet son, deserves the world . . . And his dad.