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That's when I realize the door hadn't latched when I trudged into the bathroom.
I toss my pile of clean clothes onto the vanity and cross the small room, intent on closing the door. With my hand on the handle, however, a voice manages to meet my ears, and it immediately sets me on high alert.
Instead of letting the door click shut, I open it another few inches, tilting my head to press my ear against the open space.
“You shouldn't be here,” I hear Cohen state flatly.
Liz.
Liz is standing at the front door, the morning after crashing our engagement party.
It takes every ounce of determination I have to keep my feet planted in place and not go barreling out into the entryway and clawing that woman's eyes out.
Let him handle it, I think to myself. Give him the chance.
“Co, I really think we need to talk.” Liz's voice is high and thick with sweetness that even I can recognize as fake. She’s also nervous as hell.
“I just told you, Liz. This is no place for you. You need to go.” Cohen, however, doesn't sound strained or unsure. On the contrary, his voice is that of a man who knows exactly what he wants, and he is stating it with more conviction than I've heard from him all morning.
I don't hear Liz's response, and I'm pretty sure I probably don't want to.
Cohen's voice can be heard again. “You had no right coming to Vienna’s and my party last night, Liz. I don't know what you were trying to accomplish, but doing that to Vi was completely uncalled for. And frankly, I'm a little disgusted you would feel the need to pull a stunt like that in the first place.”
Again, I can’t hear Liz’s response. But I can just imagine her expression.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to rip a strip off you the way Vienna did? And, Liz, she was just getting started. I have spent my entire morning defending your actions last night, and defending mine, when the truth is I should have damn well followed Vienna’s lead and kicked you out on your ass when I turned around and saw you standing there.”
“And you know exactly why you didn't,” she replies quickly. “Cohen, I think you're making a big mistake now, just like I think you made a huge mistake years ago when we ended things the way we did.”
My heart drops heavily into my stomach, and I feel sick. I was right, but for the first time I wish that wasn't the case. Here she is, Liz, Cohen's ex-wife, standing on his front step telling him that marrying me is a big mistake and that leaving her was just as much of a mistake, too. I have to bite down hard on my bottom lip to suppress the string of curse words I want to scream.
There's a silence from the kitchen, and I strain to hear what, if anything, is being said over the running shower behind me. When Cohen does reply, his tone has completely transformed.
In a matter of seconds, his voice has become almost a growl, low and intimidating. “You have honestly got to be kidding me.” There's another pause, then, “Jesus Christ, she was right. She was absolutely right about you.”
“I'm not sure exactly what that means,” Liz admits, but the sudden shakiness that I hear tells me that she knows very well she’s on dangerous ground. “Co, I don't think you realize yet that sometimes a dream isn't something that can become reality. Sometimes, the true reality is that the dream we’re chasing isn't at all what we wanted once we've got it.”
There's no hesitation in Cohen's answer this time. “So help me God, Liz, you'd better be talking about the life that you have been living since you left me. Because, I swear to God, if you’re referring to the fact that I am finally with Vienna, and you’re telling me she and I are a dream that can never truly become a reality, I will slam this door right now and you can be damn sure that this will be the last conversation you and I ever have.”
My heart is pounding feverishly as I listen to the conversation between them. I know I should close the door and stop eavesdropping, but it's too late. If I let the door click shut now, they will know that I was listening in. Not to mention, I can't bring myself to walk away. The desire to know what Cohen is really thinking is too strong, and if this is the only way for me to find out his thoughts and get past my insecurities about where this woman stands when it comes to Cohen's heart, then I'm going to stand here and take my answers as they come.
“I just think there's still a chance, Cohen—”
“Trust me when I tell you this: There is no chance of me giving up Vienna ever again. I know that's not what you want to hear, and I know it’s blunt and maybe even harsh, but there is no other way for me to say it. What you and I had is the past. What Vienna and I had, and what Vienna and I are now—that's my future. She is my future. I adore her, Liz. You've always known that, even when I was unable to admit it to myself. But I love Vienna just as much as I did a decade ago. Hell, I love her more, and I didn't even think that was possible. So, this—” I can only assume that he's motioning between them as they stand in the doorway. “—This cannot happen again. Because, believe me when I say this, Liz, I will not give up Vienna for anything. And I won't apologize for that.”
Whatever Liz has to say about Cohe
n's declaration, I don't hear it. The hot tears are streaking down my face and wetting my cheeks. I can't hear anything beyond the loud pounding of my pulse in my ears and the muffled sobs that I'm trying desperately to contain by clapping my hand over my mouth and turning away from the door. I don't bother to try to close it.
Mere minutes ago, all I wanted to do was put a little bit of distance between us, and give us time to cool down and sort things out.
Now, all I want to do is close the gap between us and wrap my arms around the man that I love so much. The man who adores me and won't apologize for that level of adoration.
I sit in the bathroom and let the liquid emotion spill from my eyelids. Because that's all it is, my emotions bursting from within me, turning me into a mess and causing me to take out my frustrations on the wrong people, Cohen being the one on the frontlines.
Sometimes, we can take out our frustrations in a negative way, causing waves in the relationships that mean more to us than we know how to communicate. Which is exactly what Cohen and I did to each other this morning in the kitchen.
But sometimes, there are other outlets to take out our frustrations, and those can also include the people we adore so much—other sexy, secret, and downright dirty ways to rid ourselves of the tension we hold within us. Utilizing those ways are much, much more beneficial, and much more enjoyable for all parties involved.
