by Kendall Ryan
With another jagged breath, I realized I was the one who’d done this to him.
Blinking back hot tears I didn’t deserve to shed, I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, then took the seat across from him before folding my hands on the table between us.
He sipped his coffee, his gaze never wavering from mine, though he made no motion to greet me. A waitress appeared and I ordered quickly, watching her retreat before finally clearing my throat to speak.
“I’m sure you have questions.” I’d practiced my opening statement a million times in my mind, but hearing the words made them hollower than I’d ever imagined. Still, I pressed on as he raised his eyebrows. “Before I answer them, though, I want to tell you things as they are from my perspective.”
He made no motion to argue. In fact, as far as I could tell, he was barely breathing. So, without a lifeline, I forced myself to continue.
“I met Aaron when I was young. We grew up in the same shelter, and once, we were even placed in the same foster home for a little while.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’ve thought about how to explain this for days, and I still can’t seem to find the words to express what the constancy of his presence meant for me. When I was placed in a new home, I always had someone I could call who would console me about the new people or share in my small and infrequent triumphs. He was my best friend—my only friend, really—and as we got older, it was natural that our relationship changed too.”
Cooper gripped his coffee mug and brought it to his lips, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle.
I swallowed hard. “Anyway, he was my first kiss. My best friend. My family. I couldn’t imagine my life without him, and we promised each other we’d always be together, in one way or another.”
Cooper let the cup clatter back onto its saucer, his jaw tightening. “This is what you just had to tell me? How you and your husband are fucking soulmates?” He let out a low snort, his eyes flat with fury. “Do you want to make it easier and just shove a knife in my back or what?”
I drew back, both stung and sick with guilt. “Please, hear me out.” I rushed on, desperate to make him understand. “I know this part is hard to hear, but it’s important, okay?”
He let out a sigh but didn’t get up and leave, which was all the permission I needed.
“Anyway, we aged out of the system at eighteen, and so decided to get an apartment together. Aaron woke up late for work that particular morning. He tore out of the apartment, hopped on his bike, and tried to race his way there. In the suburbs, though, there aren’t many bike lanes, and one blind turn changed both our lives forever. A car plowed directly into him.”
Cooper flinched but his expression stayed icy. I pushed on, refusing to let myself get sidetracked from telling the whole truth.
“He’d been saving up for a ring. I knew that, and although I cared about him, things between us were already changing. I was realizing what I felt was love and friendship, but I also knew he wanted more. I planned to talk to him. Break things off. We’d never been intimate, never were lovers in that way.” I thumbed the bare space on my ring finger. “Anyway, when the accident happened and I learned the full extent of his injuries, I knew what I had to do.”
“What were the full extent of his injuries?”
Cooper’s voice startled me for a moment, but I nodded.
“He had a severe head injury. Since he was late for work, he hadn’t taken the time to grab his helmet. There was some spinal damage that restricts him to a wheelchair, but the primary issue was the brain damage. He has the mentality of an eight-year-old, and he will for the rest of his life.”
Tears burned in the back of my throat, but I pushed past them for Cooper’s sake. Today, this story wasn’t about Aaron and me. I’d grieved for Aaron for years and always would. Right now, it was about Cooper.
“So, as I was saying, when I knew all that, I understood what I had to do. He was my best friend, and I was all he had in the world, just like he was all I had. Things didn’t turn out the way we’d hoped, but I couldn’t just give up on him.”
The waitress reappeared with my coffee and I took it, grateful to have something to distract me, if only for a moment. Silently, I waited as Cooper processed everything I’d said, sipping my latte, and then he looked up at me with tense, firm lips.
“That must have been devastating for you,” he said, his voice low and tight.
“It was a long time ago now. But yes, it was a hard time. I made the decision that we marry. He never asked, but I knew it was what he wanted. Being married . . . well, it meant I would be his caregiver, his legal guardian, and that he’d be covered under my health insurance.” I paused, drawing a deep breath.
“Corinne . . .”
Cooper reached a hand toward me, but I didn’t take it. Instead, I focused on my coffee, getting out the last of what I’d planned to say.
“Look, I know you must think I’m a horrible person. I am a horrible person. I mean, I’ve been sleeping with you, a man who isn’t my husband, for the past month.”
“You’re not a bad person.” Cooper’s voice was soft now, understanding. “You have needs just like anyone else.”
“Even though I’m not with Aaron romantically, I still tried to be faithful. About five years ago, I got drunk at a bar and had a one-night stand, but before you . . . before you, I hadn’t been touched in many years. I’d slept with two men for a grand total of twice, so all this, with you? It’s all still very new to me, and I know now that it was wrong.”
Cooper shook his head, his expression softening. “No, Corinne. You’re amazing for caring for Aaron this way for so long. I never knew him, but I can’t imagine he would want you to lay down your entire life like this. Do you think he would want you to sacrifice everything for him?”
“You sound like Mauve,” I said and let out a humorless laugh.
“There’s something I still don’t understand, though,” Cooper said.
“What’s that?”
“You said you guys were married. How did you . . . Was there a ceremony?”
I nodded. “Aaron didn’t have health insurance at the time, so there was a rush to get it done. I had the ceremony performed in his hospital bed. His care is still incredibly expensive, but back then, it was just insane. I didn’t buy us rings or anything; it wasn’t a romantic gesture. I just needed to be sure that I could take care of him like I needed to.”
Cooper nodded. “I understand.”
A beat of silence passed between us, and though I wanted to study his face, to try to understand how he was processing all this, I remained transfixed by the mug in front of me. After pouring out my heart to him, I didn’t have any energy left to see the hurt or confusion on his face.
“So, what now?” Cooper’s voice was deep and thoughtful.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We can’t really be together, not in any real way. We can never be more than this.”
“Corinne—”
I shook my head, cutting him short. “This is why I tried to find the right words before. See, before Aaron, I had nobody and nothing. Without me, he has nobody and nothing. After everything we went through together, I can never leave him. And I won’t divorce him.” A tear slid down my cheek, and I swiped it away with the back of my hand. “You have to believe me when I tell you how sorry I am for not being honest with you from the beginning. You should have known everything, even if this was never meant to be serious. It was wrong of me to lie to you.”
Cooper shook his head. “I forgive you. Really, I do. I just . . . I don’t want to say good-bye.”
“We have to.” I choked out the words. “This—you and me—we can’t be casual lovers. You wouldn’t be happy, and I would always want more. I can’t spend my time neglecting Aaron when I’m with you, and wishing I was with you when I’m with Aaron. We just can’t work.”
“So that’s it?” Cooper asked dully, and for the first time, I truly knew the answer.
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“Yes. I’m so, so sorry.”
He leaned across the table and kissed my cheek, his face pale and stark with grief. “Then good-bye, little dove.”
Another hot tear rolled down my cheek, and I swiped it away before jumping from my chair and dashing from the café.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cooper
I blinked my eyes open to find the sun already halfway in the sky, its rays streaming through my sliding glass terrace door to taunt me.
“Shit.” I groaned and then rolled over until I fell off the edge of my leather couch and landed ass first on the floor. My head bumped against the side table, and I rubbed it before sitting up and glancing at the clock.
It was almost noon, making this the third day in a row I had not only opted not to work, but had also chosen not to bother calling my brothers to let them know as much.
No doubt they were near murderous about it by now, but I still couldn’t summon the energy to care. Instead, I lay back on the carpet and surveyed the mass of beer bottles on my coffee table, counting the little brown circles from beneath the glass table’s surface.
Twelve. Which, admittedly, wasn’t so bad considering they’d spanned three days of nonstop drinking. The empty bottle of whiskey was somewhat less encouraging, though.
Rolling on my side, I found my phone where I’d left it nearly three days ago.
After all, even without checking, I knew there would be no messages from Corinne. And if there were? It would only be details about when her last day on the job would be.
When my life without her would truly begin.
Fuck.
I couldn’t understand how I’d done this again—fallen in love with a woman who would never choose me, no matter the circumstance.
And when I wasn’t lying on my couch trying to imagine a world when my every waking thought wasn’t about the one woman who made me realize what love really was, I was drifting off to sleep, dreaming of having her in my arms again.
They were simple dreams, so close to reality that they shook me to my core. Made me wake up full of hope and happiness until I realized that they were only dreams.
We were sitting on the terrace, snuggling by the fire, or she was lying spent and sated in my arms after a round of passionate lovemaking. Our conversations were nothing deep or spectacular, but in my mind, they were so real. Like I could wake up and text her to continue the conversation, and she would know exactly what I meant.
But it was all in my head, and I would wake up back in a world where she’d been ripped away from me again. Where I had to remember all over again that I would never have her here with me. That she could never truly be mine.
I pushed a hand through my hair, then scrubbed my hand over my beard just as my phone lit up. I turned to look at it, watching as it vibrated its way across the floor, the ringtone blaring its overly cheery melody. Not that I would bother to see who was calling.
Instead, just like I had the million other times this had happened, I got to my feet and ignored it, grabbing a blanket from my bedroom before returning to the couch for another round of much-needed sleep.
Eventually, I would be able to wake up and look at all my messages. I’d have to.
But that day wasn’t today. For now, I was going to wallow until the hole in my chest felt a little bit smaller.
Snuggling onto the leather cushions, I pulled my knees close to my chest and wrapped the blanket around me before closing my eyes and trying desperately to focus on something, anything, that didn’t remind me of Corinne.
Still, as I drifted off, her face appeared again, smiling at something I couldn’t remember saying, and she was laughing. Then I was laughing too and—
My heart stopped as something pounded hard and loud against my front door. I blinked, jumping to my feet.
“Cooper!” Gavin’s yell was muffled by the door, but I would know his voice anywhere.
“Go away,” I shouted back.
“Open this fucking door, you dick,” Quinn commanded, and I held my breath as they began to pound again.
“We’re not leaving until you let us inside,” Gavin added, and I knew he’d be true to his word.
Seeing no other option, I padded toward the door and opened it, turning my back on my brothers before making my way back to my couch and flopping back onto the cushions.
“Jesus,” Gavin said as he surveyed the rows of empty bottles while Quinn scooped my phone from the floor and sat it in front of me. “You’re a real fucking mess, yeah?”
“What do you need?” I asked none too politely.
Quinn took a seat on the sofa opposite me and crossed his arms over his barrel of a chest. “I want to know what’s going on. I haven’t seen you this bad, even when—” He stopped short as Gavin winced.
“You can say it. I don’t care,” I said.
“Fine, then. Since Emma.” Quinn nodded. “The last we heard from you, you were going to talk to Corinne, then you just don’t show up for work and don’t answer anyone’s calls? Do you know how that made us feel? We were half expecting to find you dead.”
Gavin nodded, then took a seat beside our older brother. “Look, we know this is hard for you. We just want to know what happened so we can help. Corinne resigned.”
I nodded. “I thought she might. So she’s already gone, then?”
Quinn didn’t bother answering, but his mouth flattened into a thin line.
“Today’s her last day,” Gavin said. “Just tell us what happened. We only want to help.”
So I did. I told them about how I’d gone to the coffee shop and listened as the woman I loved described her deep and unmovable love for another man. About my devastation and heartbreak over her loss and tragedy. And about what she’d said when her story was over—about how she could never share her heart with both Aaron and me.
Both my brothers were quiet for a long moment after I’d finished, but Quinn clasped his hands together, staring at them as he spoke slowly and carefully. “I’m sorry about all of that, Cooper. I really am.”
Gavin nodded. “It’s a raw deal.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “At this point, I think I should just learn to expect this kind of thing. As soon as I have feelings for someone, I should just assume they can never be with me.”
Quinn tilted his head to the side. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“Can you blame me?” I demanded. “I’ve had a pretty fucked year, bro.”
Quinn let out a breath. “I guess not. Still, there’s one thing about Corinne’s story I can’t puzzle out.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He spread his hands wide. “If Aaron was as brain damaged and injured as she says, how could he have been in the right frame of mind to consent to a marriage? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have recited the vows or signed the marriage license.”
Gavin’s face lit up. “Yeah, that makes sense. How could that be legal?”
I sighed. “You’re not getting it. Legal or not, this guy is her husband. She won’t leave him.”
Quinn fished out his phone and started typing furiously while Gavin surveyed me from the couch.
“So, she loves this guy like a brother, though, right? She doesn’t have romantic feelings for him?”
“Right.” I nodded. “But that doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Gavin shrugged, but before he could continue, Quinn looked back up at both of us.
“Coop, there’s no way her marriage is legally binding. I’ll do some more intensive research, but everything I’m seeing so far says that it can’t possibly be.”
“And ten minutes of research gave you the ultimate answer?” I scoffed.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I’m going to keep looking, but there’s hope here.”
“I don’t know about that.” Hope was the worst thing, the thing that would truly be the nail in my coffin. And still . . . I wante
d to believe him with every ounce of my being.
Gavin pursed his lips. “I think you’re giving up on this too easily. Don’t you think there could be room for all three of you in this relationship? In some fashion, at least?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Just think about it, okay?” Quinn said. “I’ll send you all the information I can find, but you need to do some soul searching too.”
“Preferably without these.” Gavin motioned to the empty bottles littering the coffee table.
“Right,” I said. “I’ll work on that.”
Together, Gavin and Quinn got up from the couch and made their way back to the door.
“Call us if you’re going to miss work again,” Quinn said, and then they were gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Sitting back on the couch, I glanced down at my baggy hoodie and sweatpants. They were right. I had to do some soul searching, and there was no chance of me making any progress with that here.
I was going to take a shower, and then I’d hunt down the one person who knew Corinne best.
Mauve.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cooper
“My goodness, aren’t you handsome?” Mauve said, looking me up and down.
“Thank you.” I smirked. She wouldn’t have thought so an hour ago. The shower and shave I’d made time for had been essential.
“This is about Corinne, yes?” The old woman staring at me was smiling so hard, I thought her dentures might fall out.
“I was hoping to get your . . .” What? Blessing? “Insight,” I finally settled on.
With her eyes still crinkling in the corners, she pointed to the chair next to her bed. “Sit. Let’s figure it out.”
I followed her instructions, already amused by her. Some part of my brain recognized that she’d been waiting for this moment and was glad it was finally here.
I took a deep breath. “Yes, this is about Corinne. I’m in love with her.”
There was something about talking to an elderly person that removed your need for a filter. I didn’t know if I felt freer to speak because I sensed deep down that she didn’t have much time left, or because I knew that none of the pleasantries were needed. Life was too short not to go after what you wanted. And I definitely wanted Corinne.