“Just like the woman who raised him.”
Hooking arms with her, I pull her close. “I appreciate that.” Jake takes Reed’s hand. “No more than five feet ahead, guys,” I remind them of our rule. “I trust him, Lila. I may be wrong, and if I am, I’ll pay the ultimate price. But he told me things that give me faith that he’s being honest.”
“Like what?”
We round the corner, and the boys take off running. They know once there are no streets between us and the park, they’re good to go.
Navigating between what’s in the NDA and what else he told me is more difficult when put on the spot. That’s what sold me. He put his heart and fortune on the line for me, entrusting me with that information. He might be the greatest liar who ever lived, but I don’t think so. I think he’s being truthful.
I reply, “He’s no longer in contact with his parents.”
“For how long?”
“It sounded like years, and he made it clear that there would never be a reunion.”
Releasing each other, we cross the park, walking in the grass to the playscape. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
Reed knows he’s not allowed on the big climbing structure until I get here but leave it to him to want to impress Jake. I hurry to spot him, but like any five-year-old, he feels invincible. “No, Mommy. I got it.”
“Okay, but hold on with both hands.” Standing off to the side, like barely off, I pretend not to be guarding this kid with my life. When I see Jake walking across the top, I already know what’s coming next.
Lila stands a few feet away with her phone in her hand. “So does the dude still have money or what?”
This is when it gets tricky. From what it sounds like, he has a fortune from the lawsuit, but I have no idea what he has otherwise. I hate lying, but that is not information I feel I can share, even with my best friend. “I’m not sure.”
“He’s late,” she says, holding up her phone as if this proves he’s a terrible human.
“A minute late is okay, Lila.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“I don’t know,” I blurt. “I don’t know much of anything other than, yes, it was a damn good brunch, but not because of the food.”
“Why then?”
“Because when I lowered my walls and really listened to him, I heard the man I fell in love with. I saw the man I thought I’d be with forever sitting across from me.” I cover my eyes to hide the tears threatening to fall, but they do anyway. “And more than one time during that meal, I imagined what it would be like if we were there as a couple instead of whatever we were now.”
“What was it like?” This time, it’s not Lila asking the question.
My lids fly open to see Cooper standing nearby. I could hide in shame, but what’s the point. “You’re really the last person I wanted to hear me say that.”
“I understand, but now that it’s out there, what was it like?”
Already exasperated by my out-of-control emotions around him, I ask, “What was what like?”
“What was it like being together again? Being in love like we never had an end?”
Lila says, “I think I’ll go find a park bench and raise some hell in a mom’s group online chat.” Rolling her eyes, she laughs. “They’re so easy to rile up.” She starts walking toward a bench but stops and turns back. “It’s good to see you again, Cooper.”
“You too, Lila. Hey, is that Jake up there?”
“Sure is. A twenty-year-old trapped in an eleven-year-old’s body.”
He says, “Funny how that never changes. Kids always want to grow up too fast, and parents want to keep them little forever.”
“Sounds like you’ve been doing your research.”
Seeing how easy it is for them to fall back into the rhyme of a friendship has me jealous. And if she thinks I’m not going to give her a hard time after she got mad at me for inviting him back into my life . . . well, it shall be entertaining.
“Something like that,” he replies, looking over my shoulder.
I already know what he’s staring at, or whom, but I follow his gaze anyway. For a few seconds, we stand there in silence, watching Reed, who’s showing off for Jake and always wanting my attention—good or bad. He just likes me to watch him play. I’m tired from work some days, and others, I’ve not had a decent night’s sleep. I have what my mom used to call “adult problems” from bills to not enough hours in the day. But Sundays are always Reed’s and my play day.
As for the only other man in my life that has ever mattered, guilt settles in, and I walk over to him. “How are you doing?”
“Trying not to—” An exhale catches him as emotions seem to build. He runs his hand through his hair and then squats down, trying to breathe through it.
An overwhelming wave of regret for keeping them apart rips through me, crashing into my heart. It doesn’t matter what he said at brunch because there’s no way he can’t hate me. But I can’t make this about me. Not now. I will fight for my son always, but right now, this is about Cooper and Reed, not me. I move closer, unsure if he even wants me to. I do it anyway and then reach over to gently rub his back.
It’s been so long since we’ve touched this way other than an accident or habit like at brunch. The muscles are still hard through the cotton of the shirt, but it’s not that making my heart kick up a beat. It’s the connection between us, the bond that never left.
His eyes close, and his mouth opens. I pull my hand back, not sure if I’m making him feel better or worse, but when he stands, he looks at me. “Please don’t stop.”
Now my breath is taken, but I nod my head and reach behind him to rub his shoulder blades and higher. Cooper’s hand covers mine, and he says, “Reed’s amazing.”
I smile, filled with pride, my eyes meeting Cooper’s, and say, “He is, like his parents.”
And then the sound of my son’s scream pulls me away just before he hits the ground.
38
Story
“You’re a doctor?”
“Yes,” Cooper replies, then adds,“in residency,” as if that changes the fact that Cooper Haywood is a doctor. Not an attorney like his father.
That probably shouldn’t make me as happy as it does, but I’m only human, and I love that he broke the mold to follow his own goals. No parent would ever be disappointed with their kid becoming a doctor, yet knowing the Haywoods, they probably were.
Since my butt is going numb from these uncomfortable chairs, I tuck my leg under me, which has me angling more his way. “Nothing against lawyers, but I’m glad you’re a doctor. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It didn’t come up.” He glances toward me out of the corner of his eyes. The hospital waiting room is sterile and the ugliest shade of green, the opposite of Cooper’s eyes.
Swerving his hand in front of him, he says, “We always take the scenic route in a conversation. Figured we’d get there eventually.”
“That’s a valid point, but now you’re the father of my child, so I should probably know these things.” I smile at him and raise an eyebrow playfully. “Don’t you think?”
“I do think, Story.” I receive his full attention, but I don’t get a smile in return. “But I’ve always been the father of your child. Not only now, like I’m stepping in when it’s convenient for me. I would have been there all along if I’d had the choice.”
Taken aback by how upset he is, I realize I didn’t even catch that I had said the word now. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that other than you’re here right now, literally right here, and you weren’t before.”
I keep checking for any sign of the doctor or a nurse who can tell us how it’s going. Worrying about my baby breaking his arm has me on edge, but now I have Cooper to worry about. It’s a lot to manage when I’m only used to the two of us.