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His jaw dropped, incredulous. “I hated him,” he clarified. Mere dislike had nothing to do with it.
Jo Ellen shook her head. “No. You don’t hate anyone. I can’t see you hating...” The hard look he sent her made her gulp. “Goodness. I know he was incredibly rude to you in high school but—”
“Jo Ellen,” he bit out. “I hated him. And it had nothing to do with the way he treated me. I hated him because he had you. Then he misused you and hurt you, and I hated him because killing him for it wasn’t an option. Did you know he had another girlfriend within a month after you left Tommy Creek?”
Pain flashed across her features. Cooper clenched his fist, despising how Untermeyer still had the ability to hurt her.
Feeling vindictive, he curled his lip into a sneer. “He dated at least three different girls his senior year. And I hated him because he could get over you so easily, while I was counting down the days until Christmas break, thinking surely you’d come home to see your parents and I’d be able to catch just a glimpse of you in town somewhere.”
Pity filled her face. Not love, not affection. Pity! “Cooper,” she whispered, her voice strangled and apologetic.
When she reached for him, he veered back. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she cried. “I don’t understand this.”
Because this was what unrequited love did to him. Made him crazy, insane jealous and moody. The only way to bring back the real Cooper was to cut all loose ends with her. Get his own closure.
He closed his eyes and sighed. Defeat crushed his ribcage, making his insides feel claustrophobic and panicked. “We were always working toward our expiration date, Jo Ellen. You have a life and a wonderful career in Dallas. I have this farm to run for my dad. I never made you any promises, and from what you told me in the barn before we ever started anything, you were going to leave on Sunday no matter what.”
Once more, he had to look away. Waiting for her to correct him, to tell him they didn’t have to end anything, that a little distance meant nothing to her—that Untermeyer meant nothing to her.
He gnashed his teeth when she said nothing.
“Cooper,” she whispered. The light touch of her hand on his leg made him shudder. He waited again for her to tell him what she really wanted. He suddenly felt a kinship with her brother, Grady. He hated having no control over his own destiny because he’d given it all to the woman beside him. She controlled everything.
Go. Stay. Love him, hate him. He would respect whatever decision she made.
But she must’ve already made it in the hayloft the night they were first together. Because she certainly didn’t alter any of what she’d said that night now.
After a moment, she nodded and whispered, “I understand.” She pushed the passenger side door open.
Hand fisting against his thigh, he panicked. Not like this, something inside him begged. Yet if they didn’t end like this then how were they supposed to end?
He certainly wasn’t going to beg her or guilt trip her into staying and force her into a loveless marriage where he’d slowly lose his mind and end up a miserable, useless old man, withering away alone in a nursing home.
After she slid out, she turned back as if waiting for him to say something. His jaw bunched and eyes went as hard as flint. He sure as hell wasn’t going to confess his soul if she didn’t return the sentiment.
“Good bye, Jo Ellen,” he said. “Have a nice life.”
Her eyes flared and chin wobbled, but her features cleared so fast, he convinced himself he’d imagined it and just wanted to see her resist their farewell. But she nodded, sent him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and cleared her throat.
“Good bye, Cooper.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cooper ate a late supper with his mother that night. The nightly news played from the living room where Loren liked to let the television run to keep her company. Lulled by the muted voice of the reporter filtering through the arched opening and into the kitchen, Coop picked at his chicken, poking it a few times with the sharp tines of his fork.
“It’s dead, dear,” his mother confirmed.
He lifted his face and blinked. “Pardon?”
Eyes twinkling with mischief, Loren motioned toward his plate. “I swear, I lobbed off its head and even plucked the feathers before serving it. The bird is most definitely deceased. You don’t have to stab it repeatedly to make sure.”
“Oh.” He set the fork to the side of his plate and picked up his glass of tea. After taking a sip, he set the cup down only to run his finger along the condensation dripping down the side. “I guess I’m just not hungry tonight.”
“Mmm. I noticed.”
Unable to bear the idea of even idle chitchat, he slid his chair back and pushed to his feet. “I think I’ll eat this later.”
