“I walked,” he says with a smile. My mind fills in the ba dum bump. I roll my eyes and grin, but he’s already busy checking the equipment and reading vital signs. He ducks back out and grabs the chart from outside the door. Apparently, everything looks as it should because he appears satisfied when he returns it to the hook.
I find relief seeing the same on his face. It’s nice to have a doctor in the family. . . Reed’s family. I mentally make a note feeling a little sad that a separation between my family and Reed’s can be made.
“I also used my doctor privileges.” Seeing his smirk is a welcome reprieve from the heavy strain of today. When he moves to sit beside the bed, his smirk falls into a gentle smile.
I remember that look, the one that made me feel cherished and loved. I move to the opposite side of the bed, and before the moment gets too heavy, I whisper, “I knew you had superpowers.”
I’m given a glimpse of a smile when Cooper glances up at me. His eyes return to Reed, and he sweeps his hair to the side. I’d never noticed that my son had the same cowlick as Cooper until I see them together now.
He’s my son through and through, but I feel like an intruder, so I step back and give Cooper time alone with him. Sitting on the loveseat, I’m sure the emotional drain is from the day, but for some reason, my chest feels heavier, the heart clench stronger watching Cooper with his son.
He stays, taking everything in about him that he can. I’m sure he’s spotted the little wave of freckles across his nose that he gets from me. And the minutest bumps on the bridge of his nose that he gets from Cooper. He has my hazel eyes, but those enviable lashes aren’t mine. Reed’s hand is small compared to Cooper’s, but one day, it will be the same or larger than his dad’s.
When Cooper comes to sit next to me, he’s smiling—small but genuine. “I can’t believe I have a child. He’s just . . . everything. So perfect.”
“He is.” I clasp my hands together on my lap.
A shyness comes over him, and he tilts his head down, but he doesn’t look away. “So are you. You’re amazing, Story.”
“He’s the best and brings out the best in me.” Tilting my head to tap his shoulder, I laugh. “And sometimes the worst. I’m not perfect. But for him, I try to be everything he needs.”
His arm comes around me suddenly, and he pulls me into an embrace. It’s shocking, and my emotions go crazy, unsure how to react. But the longer I’m here, the more I let the heavy emotional load I’ve been carrying for years emerge.
Tucked into his arms, I feel safe again. The tears come fast and unexpectedly, but it feels good to set myself free. Reed’s going to be okay. I can finally release some of the worries I’ve been holding so tightly to today and maybe others I’ve held on to for too long.
When I tilt my head to find his eyes, they’re already set on me. My breathing shallows as little things I loved so much with him come back. Forehead kisses and strong arms wrapped around me. Spending hours in bed after the sun set talking about everything and nothing. I still can’t eat strawberry yogurt without remembering how he cared for me when I was sick. My smile grows through the tears, thinking about when we met and the day turning into night and how we were forever for a short time.
The bigger things like the hotel on Christmas and that the camera he gave me was the one I relied on to help to get me through life once he was gone. And although I have a different camera now, that one sits on the same desk I kept like his first note to me once did. I have files upon files of my photography from back then, all because he saw more in my talent than I did.
And for someone who never thought himself worthy, he makes it so hard not to fall in love with him. I rest my head against him, savoring this moment I’ve been gifted once more. Just in case it’s the last time.
“Although you felt you had to protect Reed by leaving me, you saved him. They would have dug their claws in, so I don’t blame you for not telling me or wanting better for him than what I received.”
Sitting back, I’m in awe of him. “I appreciate that you recognize the position I was in and that you’re not holding that grudge between us. I also need you to know that it was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. But your mother . . .” I shudder, remembering how inferior she made me feel. “She treated me so horribly.”
“I know I can’t make it better, but know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ever putting you in their path.”
“Once she threatened to have me arrested . . .” I wrap my arms around my belly. “She didn’t know I was pregnant, but I couldn’t risk the baby to see you. She made me choose. I was so close to you, but I couldn’t take the risk.”
His brow twists and pinches together in the middle. “What are you talking about?”
“When I came to tell you I was pregnant.” Judging by his expression, he doesn’t register what I’m saying. “I drove to the Haywood house. You didn’t come see me, so I went searching for you instead.”
The vinyl squeaks under him when he sits back and scratches the back of his neck. “When was that exactly?”
“I don’t know the date. I think Saturday or Sunday. After our big fight. When I found out about your involvement—”
“The fight in the rain?” He deflates, his expression falling with his shoulders. “You drove from Atterton to tell me you were pregnant?”
“I did, but your mother wouldn’t let me see you.”
Leaning forward, he takes my hand. It’s a bold move, but the dormant butterflies in my stomach are awakened as he holds it again. “I need you to listen to me, Story.”
“Okay, but you’re scaring me.”
His hold on me tightens. “I don’t mean to. I just . . . Wow. I . . .” He looks up at the ceiling and then takes a deep breath. When he turns back to me, he says, “I was never told you came by.”
“I’m not surprised.” I can’t help but inject my own commentary when it involves his parents.
“My phone was stolen, and I didn’t get a replacement for a while. You were going to tell me about the baby?”
“Of course. I never said goodbye.” I caress his cheek, trying to calm the frenzy in his eyes. “I knew that no matter what was said or happened prior, you deserved to know about our child.”
Water glistens in his eyes. “You tried to tell me.”
He’s not asking the question, but it lies in the greens of his eyes. “Yes. I drove to Haywood and made it halfway up the stairs before she told me I had to leave or I’d be arrested. I wouldn’t have put it past her to call the police on me.”
A mixture of sadness and anger weaves through his striking features. “Neither would I.” When he turns to me again, joy is populating his irises. “But you tried. You fucking tried for me.”
I nod as his joy catches fire inside me.
A darkness rolls in, tamping the joy he’d found. He says, “The fight outside your apartment . . . when you left, I went looking for your ex.”
It takes me a moment to piece together that time. “Troy?”
“We had a long-standing feud way before he met you.” Directing his gaze to our clasped hands, he continues, “I didn’t want to die. I just no longer wanted to feel.”
Fear unnerves me as I try to riddle through what that means. “Cooper, what did you do?”
“I didn’t have you, and I didn’t care about anything else, much less myself. I didn’t fight back because I didn’t matter.”
I find his eyes, returning him from the distant memory he was losing himself in. “You always matter to me.” The words come easy and flow from my tongue. Not past but present tense.
Reed stirs, and I’m on my feet. It’s a false alarm as his breathing evens again, and he stays asleep. With my little guy sleeping comfortably, I stand at the window and stare out again. Cooper looks up from the loveseat. “Until today, I never knew you tried to tell me.”
Leaning against the wall, using it to hold me up from the life that’s brought me down, I ask, “You threw yourself to the wolves because you didn’t think I cared.”
“I spent months bitter that I had survived while recuperating. Bitter I didn’t have you in my life.”