Perfectly Undone: A Novel

by Jamie Raintree

  “It’s a good nose,” I agree.

  Cooper comes to stand next to me and brushes my hair behind my shoulder. He places his cheek against mine, and my heart melts. In spite of myself, I lean into him to ease the mutual ache for the future we could have had.

  Ten minutes later, Cooper and I wave to Megan and Stephen as the paramedics close the ambulance doors. We stand with our hands shielding our eyes from the drizzle still coming down and watch them disappear around the corner. It’s eerily quiet.

  Cooper looks at me, a tilted grin on his face. It’s the last expression I expected from him after what he witnessed at his office, but it’s so Cooper.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Just, tonight...watching you work. You’re amazing at what you do.”

  I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps across my face. “You’ve seen me work before.”

  “Yeah, but it’s been a while. I forgot. And you’ve gotten better. A lot better. It was like you didn’t believe in yourself before.” He takes a step closer. “But once you relaxed and gave in to the situation, you were completely in control in there. It’s incredible what you do. You don’t just deliver a baby—you’re, like, the Pregnant Woman Whisperer.”

  “Pregnant Woman Whisperer, huh?”

  He chuckles. “I don’t know. It was the first thing that came to mind.”

  Cooper steps closer and reaches for my hands. I hesitate, then take them and lean my head back to let the rain kiss my face. When I look to Cooper, he appears awestruck. When I ask him what he’s thinking this time, he shakes his head, looking at me with something that looks like adoration. His tired smile makes my heart skip a beat.

  “I have to tell you something,” I say.

  “Okay.”

  I’m not sure why it’s important to tell Cooper about my sister—it means nothing to him now—or why it feels like the right time to finally get it off my chest. Maybe because it’s important he understands I’m not any kind of whisperer. I’m just a woman and a doctor with the best intentions. Or maybe because I need him to know that I understand how I used it to distance myself from him, and I accept my part for what went wrong between us. Either way, he’s been there for me all these years. He deserves to know.

  “You were right. I have been keeping a secret from you.”

  “What is it?” he asks. He doesn’t look nervous, no sense of foreboding, like he once had whenever I tried to open up to him about my past. At first I think it’s something in him that has changed, but then I realize it’s me. There’s no fear in my heart when I begin to speak the words. There’s no urge to flee for him to pick up on. There’s just me, and the truth.

  “There’s more to my sister’s death than I’ve told you.”

  And then I tell him everything. About how she confided in me. About how I kept her secret when I felt like I shouldn’t. About our hospital trip the night she died.

  “And then my sister asked you to keep her secret, too,” he says.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m okay. She’s worth it. Besides, it all worked out perfectly.”

  I go on to tell him about how my guilt put a rift in my relationship with my mom, and how we’ve begun to repair it. I confess my father’s adultery, how it ruined my parents, and what I’ve learned from it. I tell him all the dark parts of my life that I was once ashamed to tell anyone, especially the man I am—still, inexplicably and completely—in love with.

  When he’s heard it all, he frowns as he tries to process it. Finally, he says, “Oh, babe,” and pulls me into his arms. He holds me so close we could melt into one, and I revel in his embrace. I need it. “I can’t believe you never told me this. I can’t believe you’ve been living with it all this time, thinking it was your fault.” He takes me by the arms and holds me in front of him so he can pointedly say, “You do know it wasn’t your fault, right? It wasn’t your fault, Dylan.”

  I nod, my lips pursed. “It took me a long time to realize it, but I think I finally believe it.”

  He fills his cheeks with air and blows it out, like it hurt him to hear the story more than it hurt me to tell it.

  “I wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me before,” he says. “It could have changed so much.”

  “I know,” I say. “Believe me, I know. But sometimes it takes going through something big to finally face what we’re afraid of.”

  Cooper frowns. Something big. The end of us.

  “It wasn’t only losing you,” I say. “There are a lot of things I’ve been too afraid to deal with. But I couldn’t have done that last one without you.” I nod toward the house.

  He puts his thumb to my cheek and grazes his skin over mine. “You can do anything without me. The question is whether or not you want to.”

  “I don’t think I want to,” I whisper.

  His gaze flickers over my face, from my eyes to my lips and back again, as if he doesn’t dare believe the words. I don’t know if this counts as an adventure—trusting a man who could break my heart again—but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Looking into his eyes and knowing his heart, it doesn’t seem like a very big risk to me.

  “Can I take you home?” he asks me, reminding me of the night we met, when we fell in love, whether I wanted to admit it or not. I bite my lip and bite back the overwhelming happiness that fills my chest.

  I nod.

  * * *

  When we walk into the house, the energy is different with Cooper here again. I take Spencer out while he gets a drink in the kitchen. I take my time outside, letting it all sink in.

  When I go back inside, Cooper is leaning against the couch, waiting for me. I stop a few feet from him, watching him, watching me. I’ve never wanted so badly to know what he was thinking. He takes one long, deep breath as if preparing for what we both know will come, then he rushes over to me and takes me in his arms. And I want more. I want all of him. My lips search for his, and when they find them, he hesitates for only a moment before he kisses me back—the soft, loving, familiar kiss that is all I’ve ever wanted. He pushes my hair back from my face, kisses away the tears on my cheeks. My lips wait for his to return, and when they do, I convey everything I’ve been feeling, everything I’ve been wanting, everything I’ve been needing for months and years. I show him how I feel with every touch until we’re grasping at each other with a hunger I’ve never felt before—love, with no barriers between us.

  “I love you, Dylan,” Cooper gasps, and I realize he’s crying, too. “I can’t live without you.” I cry harder.

  Cooper carefully sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the bed. The early morning light brightens the room just enough to see him in shadows. He sets me down in front of the bed and looks into my eyes. Everything I’ve needed to know is there. It always was.

  Cooper peels off my clothes. I take his off in a rush. I crave the feel of his skin on mine. I wrap myself around him, and we fall together.

  Cooper and I lose track of time and space as we make love for hours, caressing one another, reintroducing each other to how our desires have changed over the years—changes we’ve missed in our old routine that fulfilled only physical needs. The only time we speak is to say “I love you” over and over again. Eventually we reach a point somewhere between exhaustion and an altered state of consciousness, and we curl up next to each other as easily as everything else has come today.

  “God, I missed you,” Cooper says. He pulls me closer and kisses my hair. I smile and nod, trace lazy circles on his chest. I could stay like this forever. But there’s still so much to figure out. If Cooper and I are going to make it this time, we have to learn to talk to each other again.

  “Why did you fall in love with me, Cooper?” I ask as a place to start.

  He turns to face me. He’s wearing a reminiscent smile, and his eyes are brigh
t with happiness. I’m sure mine are, too.

  “Well, you came home with me that first night.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “No, I’m not talking about that. I mean, that sure didn’t hurt—”

  I cut him off with a playful smack on the arm. He laughs and kisses me. He won’t stop kissing me.

  “Do you remember what you told me when I asked you why you wanted to be a doctor?”

  I shake my head. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure I would give you the same answer.”

  He traces his thumb across my chin. “You said it was because people are afraid and lonely...especially when they’re hurt or sick or about to do the scariest thing they can imagine. You told me all they want is someone who will tell them it’s going to be okay and mean it. And you wanted to be that person.”

  A coy grin creeps across my face. “Boy, I sure was naive back then, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes, you were.”

  But the answer still holds true. I still feel that way. I still love to help people.

  “And when I told you that you wouldn’t be able to do that for everyone,” he says, “you said you could try. Right then I knew no one else would make me happier or more proud than you. And I was right.”

  I swallow hard, and tears leak from my eyes. I can’t believe he remembers so much from that night when I assumed, while it was happening, it would be a night I’d want to forget. He knew all along our conversations would mean something some day, and he memorized them. What I would give for that kind of faith.

  “Do you remember what you told me when I asked you why you wanted to be a doctor?” I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  “Because you wanted people to have to call you Dr. Caldwell.”

  We laugh and kiss and fall into silence again. Cooper combs my hair away from my face with his fingers.

  “I do love delivering babies,” I say. “But I still can’t help but feel I’m meant to do more.”

  “You are, Dylan. I should never have forgotten that.”

  “And I should never have forgotten that being able to live a long life with the ones you love is why doctors exist. Or that you’re the one I want to live mine with.”

  He’s smiling from ear to ear.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I just can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you so happy. You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

  My cheeks warm, and I bury my face in his shoulder.

  He leans down, and I come out from hiding for a kiss. When he pulls back, I look away. There’s one more thing to discuss, and I hope it won’t ruin the progress we’ve made in the last few hours. I feel no shame for what happened with Reese. Maybe it’s wrong of me to forgive myself so easily when it was nearly impossible for me to forgive Cooper, but when the foundation of a relationship is shattered, sometimes it takes time away from the wreckage to see if it’s worth rebuilding. Still, the omission would hang over my head forever. Cooper and I can’t start a future based on lies. It’s what almost broke us the first time.

  “There’s one other thing I feel like I should tell you,” I say in a whisper. His body tenses, and I know he knows what I’m about to say. He takes a deep breath and runs his finger across my collarbone.

  “Is it going to affect us from this day forward?” he asks me.

  “No,” I say. A month ago, I might not have had the same answer, but now I know, without a doubt, where my home is.

  “Then don’t tell me,” he says.

  “Are you sure?” I ask. It would be easy to tell him. Nothing happened. But the fact that he trusts me without having to say it means so much more.

  “I’m sure.”

  18

  The day is cool, but the sun is bright with no clouds to hide behind. Autumn is here. I sit at my mother’s vanity in her room, inserting one of her pearl earrings into my ear. White, to match everything else. I look up when I hear the door open behind me, and Megan comes into the room. She stops just inside the door. Her hair is twisted into an elegant knot, revealing the warm glow of motherhood on her face.

  “You look breathtaking,” she says.

  “I should. You picked the dress.”

  “I always wanted a sister to dress up. Cooper wouldn’t let me.”

  I laugh and she comes over to adjust my veil, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world, almost as if she really is my sister. Within the hour she will be, and though she’ll never replace Abby, she’ll be a part of a new family that starts today.

  “Is that dirt under your fingernails?” I ask.

  She looks at her hand and smirks. “Stephen and I took Benjamin for a hike this morning.”

  “A hike?”

  “Well, you know, compromise and all that. You’ll learn soon.” She winks.

  I stand, pulling the train of my dress behind me, and I wrap my arms around her. She laughs and extends her neck to avoid smudging her pink lipstick on the face my mother spent all afternoon putting together.

  “Maybe we’ll all go next time,” I say.

  “That would be great. Stephen would love that.”

  We’re interrupted by another creak of the door. Mom sticks her head in, and her smile is so vibrant my breath hitches. There’s my mom, I think. The pizzeria owner’s wife.

  “Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” she says. “It’s time.”

  I smile at the familiar words.

  Yes. It is.

  When I asked my mom to plan the wedding, I assured her I wanted something simple—just close friends and family. And soon. We’d put it off long enough, and at this point it’s more for them than it is for us. I pledged my commitment to Cooper the night he moved back in, when I finally said yes.

  Giving Mom something to do helped her through the roughest days after Dad left, and it gave us something to bond over. After I sent in my grant application, Vanessa cut my new patient appointments in half. I thought I would feel lost, unsure of what to do with myself, but since I no longer carry the burden of trying to save everyone, I’ve been able to relax and enjoy the patients I have, knowing I can’t protect them from everything, but that I can give them my best. Finding more balance in my life has made that easier to do. I should hear an answer about the grant in the next few weeks, and I’m hopeful.

  In the meantime, I used my free time to come over a few afternoons each week and let Mom tell me about the progress she’d made on my wedding over iced teas. She was so happy to have something productive to put her focus into, I didn’t make a fuss when she suggested making cookies and cakes that were entirely too fancy for the occasion, or when she ordered even more flowers to decorate the backyard. In fact, she loved it all so much, she got a job at the local florist.

  Together, we pruned her garden in preparation for winter.

  With Megan on one side and my mom on the other, I make my way down the staircase to the main floor, where pastries and food platters line the kitchen counters. In the dining room, my dad waits for me, wearing a sharp black suit and a smile. At the sight of him, Mom gracefully disappears into the backyard, taking Megan with her. It’s still hard for my parents to be in the same room with each other, but I have faith that over time, we will be a family again—a different kind of family. Maybe one that works better.

  “I’ve dreamed of this day since you were a little girl,” Dad says with a tear in his eye. He runs a hand lightly over my hair. His face can hardly contain his smile. I lean forward and kiss his cheek.

  There is no string quartet when I step out onto the patio, no doves released into the air, only a still silence of the people I love watching me glide down the steps, and the lapping of the waves at the shore. My brother is here, of course, along with Stephen and Megan, and my godson, Benjamin, already a month old. Cooper’s parents
are huddled together near the front, both of them crying. My aunt made it, as well as a few of the doctors and nurses from the hospital and Cooper’s practice.

  And there, at the end of the aisle created by the people who have seen us at our best and at our worst, stands Cooper in white pants and a loose white button-up, looking out at the water. Once again, I wish I knew what he was thinking, waiting for me with his hands clasped in front of him. I hope he’s thinking of our future, the way I am as I walk toward him. Maybe our honeymoon—a trip to Hawaii. Maybe lazy nights around the house or tending the garden together—our new favorite hobby. I hope he’s thinking about our future children, and watching them grow. Watching each other grow, and the adventure our life will be.

  * * * * *

  For a sneak peek at Jamie Raintree’s next unforgettable novel, keep reading...

  Acknowledgments

  First, I want to thank my agent, Claire Anderson-Wheeler, for seeing in me and my story what I hadn’t yet seen myself. This book would not be what it is without you. This is OUR win.

  Thanks to my editor, Allison Carroll. Your love of my story has “stuck with me in my bones” and will be what I return to whenever I doubt my purpose. Thank you, and everyone in the Graydon House/Harlequin team, for believing in my book and bringing it to life.

  Thanks to those who provided invaluable information on the medical front, namely Peggy and Salena. Any narrative liberties are mine.

  To my Soul Sisters: Shawna, for being my first fan and the best midnight storyteller. Deborah, for being the kind of woman I model heroines after and for being my other half. Bubble, for always asking about the book and checking in to see if I was surviving this whole writer-mom thing. Erika, your awesomeness showed up in my book before I even met you—the Universe must have known. And Victoria, from MySpace to IRL. You all keep me going and believing.

  I have so many writer friends to thank: Selena Laurence, for always keeping my head on straight and for promising we’ll be crazy old ladies at the coffee shop together. Alyson, for reading this book almost as many times as me and loving it every time. Aimie, for being my conference wife and the best road trip copilot. The Badasses, who kept me laughing when it so wasn’t funny anymore—especially Kate Moretti, who provided invaluable feedback on the story and who always inspires me to be more badass. The Motivated Writers, both online and in real life—there are no words for how much you mean to me. You are my people. And the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, where I’ve found my home.