“She won't be here,” he said. “Guaranteed.” He paused. “Please. I'm not looking to make excuses. I just want to explain. I feel like you deserve at least that.”
I wanted to say no, tell him to take a hike and never see or think about him again. Whatever he had to say really wasn't going to matter and I was leaving in a day, anyway. I didn't need anything from him, no matter what he thought I deserved.
“Please, Jess. Let me do this.”
I sighed. “Two minutes.”
He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. He visibly exhaled and leaned back in the chair, trying to get comfortable. “Thank you.”
I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
“First things first,” he said, pushing the sunglasses up on top of his head. The swelling around his eye was gone, the bruise faded to a pale yellow. “I really am sorry about what happened the other night. If I'd know that was going to happen, I never would've asked you to dinner.”
“But you still would've fucked me?” I asked. “Interesting.”
He frowned, then shook his head. “No. That's not what I meant. I meant that none of this between you and me would've happened if I'd thought Gina was going to show up.”
“So you're just pissed you got caught?” I asked incredulously. “This is going to be a short conversation.”
He sighed and shifted in the chair again. “No. Shit. I'm already screwing this up.”
“Yep.”
He took another deep breath. “I'm just gonna go ahead and say it. Gina and I are married.”
I stared at him cooly. It wasn't like I hadn't considered that possibility.
“But we've been separated for almost two years,” he said. “Separated as in we don't live together, we don't see each other and we don't share a damn thing.” He paused, watching my expression. “And yeah, you're right. You have no reason to believe anything I say, given how it all looks. But I also don't have any reason to come here and apologize and explain. I'm not stupid. I screwed up and I'm not here to try and make it better so we can pick up where we left off. I'm here straight up to apologize.”
He had a point there. If he wasn't looking to mend fences and run back to my room with me, then he didn't have any reason to talk to me.
“Okay,” I said finally. His two minutes were up but I waited for him to finish.
“We were married six years ago. I'd never had a long term relationship. My job isn't conducive to it and to be honest, I'm a bit of recluse any way. Happy by myself. Maybe selfish. I don't know. So I stayed out of relationships.” He set his elbows on the table, squinted into the sun. “I met Gina at a bar. Sign number one that it was gonna be a mistake. What's that saying? Nothing good happens at two in the morning? Think that's about the time I met her.” He shook his head, clearly not pleased at the memory. “But we met and hit it off. She gave me her number, I called her a week later or something and we just sort of ended up together. The dumb part is I can't even tell you why.”
It wasn't really that dumb. I remembered that feeling with Brian, how I'd just ended up with him. There was no real attraction. He'd come into my life at the right time, when I didn't want to be alone, and we just sort of fell into a relationship. When I'd play it back in my head, I could never find a reason or a defining moment when I decided Brian was going to be the guy I was going to be with.
Because there wasn't.
“So we're together for while, then we move in together,” Cooper continued. “Then we get engaged and, a week later, married. Just flew over to Vegas and did it. Which probably should've been another warning sign. But I was just kind of oblivious. And not to make excuses, but I was just letting her call the shots.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He leaned back in the chair and exhaled. “She wanted to move in together. She wanted to get engaged. She wanted to get married. And I just kept saying yes because I didn't have a reason to say no. Or maybe I just didn't want to be the bad guy and say no. I don't know. It was like a ball rolling downhill and it just kept gathering momentum. I didn't stop it.”
I nodded because I remembered some of those same feelings.
“But it was never really good,” he said. “We argued too much. She can't hold a job to save her life. And she won't admit it, but she's got a drinking problem.” He pursed his lips for a moment. “I tried to address all three, but all she ever did was get angry. Like what you saw the other night. It just got worse and worse. So January of last year, I moved out and filed for divorce.”
“But you said you're separated, not divorced,” I said.
He nodded. “Yep. It's been one hurdle after another. She wouldn't accept the divorce papers. Then she told me to wait, that she was going to go through a treatment program for her drinking. That was a six-month stall. Then her dad died and she couldn't handle the stress of dealing with a divorce so she asked me to hold off on filing. And I did. Because I don't want it to be hard for her. But I want out.”
“ She's broken into my car and my apartment. She's showed up at the course, drunk as a skunk. She ran up a credit card under my name. She just won't let go.” He gave me a thin smile. “And trust me. It's not because I'm some great guy. It's because she just doesn't want to be alone.”
“Sounds like you've been patient with her,” I said. “That counts for something.”
He turned to the side, squinting again as he looked into the sun. “Does it? I don't know. It's pretty much put my life in neutral. I think I'm going to have to move. Like, from Arizona, if I really want to get out from under her. I had a job offer in Florida last month, just got another feeler from a course in Colorado. I don't really want to move, but I wonder if it might be for the best.” He turned back to me. “And I don't really want to be alone. Going to dinner with you the other night was my first date since she and I split.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded slowly. “Seriously. I mean, Gina's a handful. And not in a good way at all. She's done some really crappy stuff over the last two years and I've probably let her get away with too much, let her have too much control over what I chose to do or not do. And I just...I wanted to be legally divorced before I even thought about getting back into the dating scene. I didn't want to have any baggage, you know?” He rubbed at his chin. “So, I've been a hermit for nearly two years. The other night in your room?” He pulled his hand away from his chin and cast his eyes downward. “First time in nearly three years.”
“You're kidding,” I said.
He smiled and shook his head. “I'm not. We didn't have sex the last year we were together and I haven't been with anyone since I moved out. And to be honest, I nearly stood up and walked out of your room because I was afraid.”
“Afraid? Why?”
“A couple reasons,” he said, staring down at the table. “One, Gina. I knew she'd find out. It's gotten so I always have to look over my shoulder because she follows me around. Not all the time, but she's like a bloodhound – she knows when to stick close to me. It's like she has this sixth sense about her. That's how she found us at the restaurant. I didn't want to put you in that line of fire.” He sighed. “But I did, anyway.”
“It's okay,” I said, and I meant it. “It was a nice night.”
He tried to smile. “Was for me, too. More than you'll know.” He exhaled again and drummed his fingers on the table. “And, two, I wasn't sure I'd remember what to do. I was nervous as hell and didn't want to embarrass myself or you.”
“You didn't.”
“Hope not,” he said, making a face. “When I came and found you in the pool, I honestly just was there to hang out and talk. Felt like forever since I'd done that with anyone. There was no underlying intent.” He stared across the table at me. “I hope you believe that.”
I thought for a moment, then nodded. “I do.”
“I just really liked talking to you and then we were back in your room and you sort of took the lead and I...finally let down my
guard,” he said, his fingers still working on the table. “And I remembered what it was like to be normal again for a bit. So I wanted to have dinner. I should've known better, that she'd show up and screw it up and you'd end up looking at me the way you did. Which I don't blame you for.” He squinted at me, fine lines at the corners of his eyes. “But I just wanted you to know the story. And to tell you I'm sorry. You didn't deserve any of that crap and I'm sorry you had to deal with it.”
It was amazing what context could do. When Cooper had shown up at the table, I was ready to just give him the silent treatment because I thought I knew everything. Listening to his story changed that. I hadn't dealt with the kind of contentiousness he was dealing with, but I understood the loneliness and the confusion and the frustration. It was a rotten spot to be in and I didn't wish it on anyone.
“Apology accepted,” I said. “And thank you for explaining. You didn't have to.”
“Yes, I did,” he said, the thin smile returning. “Because I'm pretty sure you were thinking the worst about me.”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“And I don't blame you,” he said. “I would've thought the same thing. I just wanted to set the record straight. And to say thank you.”
“Thank you? For what?”
“For the other night,” he said rubbing at his chin again. “Like I said. It had been a long time and it was nice to be with someone.” He winced at his own words. “That came out wrong. It was nice to be with you. I'm glad it was you.”
“I'm glad it was me, too,” I said, smiling at him.
He laid his hands flat on the table. “Well, I've taken up enough of your time and I've got to get over to the course.”
“Another lesson?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And hopefully this one won't try and take out my eye.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks. “I'm so sorry about that. Really.”
He laughed and stood. “I'm teasing you. I'm glad it happened. I don't think I would've come looking for you at the pool if it hadn't.”
“So you came looking for me because I clubbed you in the face?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Because you were so damn nice about it. I needed to spend some time with someone nice.” He smiled. “That was you.”
I smiled back. Cooper was a good guy. He was in a bad situation, but I thought he was a good guy. I hoped that he'd get it all figured out for himself.
“I'm not sure what the protocol here is,” he said, then held out his hand across the table. “But thank you, Jess. It's been a pleasure.”
I laughed and shook his hand. “Mine, too, Cooper. I hope things work out.”
“For you, too,” he said. “Arkansas's next on your trip?”
“Arkansas's next.”
He nodded. “Alright then. I hope you have a safe trip and I'll warn the courses you're on your way.”
I smiled. “You do that.”
He held up a hand. “Bye, Jess.”
I watched him walk through the gates and disappear down the path.
I knew I'd never see Cooper again. He was one of those people I'd shared a moment with and while I wouldn't forget it, I doubted our paths would ever cross again. And that was okay. I wasn't sad or angry about it or hung up on the what-ifs. I wasn't obsessing over the fact that we'd slept together and there was no future for us together. For one night, we'd been there for each other and it had been a good night. We'd separated – after an explanation – without hassle or drama or entanglements and I liked that feeling.
Maybe I was growing up.
The blue pool sparkled in the sunlight.
I opened my ipad again and stared at the screen.
And wondered what I'd find in Arkansas.
THE END
Love In Arizona (The Love In 50 States Series Book 3) Page 7