But we didn’t start up again.
I reached up in slo-mo to pull the tie down from my eyes like I was lost in a dream, and I saw Cooper right there, looking right at me like he was waiting for my answer—though any chance of clearing anything up with Cooper from my end was now completely gone.
My brain was fully scrambled.
“The same, right?” he said, searching my eyes, expecting me to agree. “Exactly the same.”
I’m surprised I could even corral enough breath to respond. “Not even close,” I said.
But I guess he didn’t realize I meant thatin a good way.
At my answer, his expression hardened like a slammed door. He remembered he was angry, and I remembered he was, too.
I guess he must have thought I was sticking to my story. I was choosing Finn.
Finn, who, looking back, Cooper thought I’d just spent the night with.
A thought that seemed so laughable now.
But it was like I’d beendrugged.
I just couldn’t break my daze. I stayed slumped against the wall and watched as Cooper turned away. He moved back inside and shoved the sliding door closed behind him.
For a minute or two, all I could do was stay braced and still—just me and the wind, chaotic and alone.
What just happened?
Had Cooper actually, truly just changed the story of my life?
I turned to watch him through the glass door, but the reflectionof the sky blocked my view. I stepped closer and leaned my forehead against the glass, looking through my own shadow. He was moving around the room, opening and closing cabinets and drawers, and it was Cooper, of course… but it was like I’d never seen him before. The way his shoulder muscles flexed under his shirt. The press and release of his calves with each step. And his forearms—good god,his forearms—as he packed up his things.
Wait—as hewhat?
I slid the door open and stepped inside. “What are you doing?” I asked, alarm sobering me up.
“I’m done,” Cooper said. “I’m out.”
“Out? Out of what?”
“I can’t stay here,” Cooper said. “I’m losing my mind.”
“I’m losing my mind, too,” I said. “I’ll come with you.”
“You’re not coming with me,” Cooper said.
“But we still need to talk!” The daze was burning off now.
“I’m done talking,” Cooper said then. “I’m done with everything. I quit.”
“You quit? What is this—a job?”
“Worst job I ever had.”
“Are you—packing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Was he getting off the ship—permanently? “Are you just going to live here? In the Bahamas?”
