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“What do you mean you could be good?”
“I’d done everything prior.” He stops in front of the large picture window where a different view of the city is framed from the balcony where we stood earlier. Laughter rumbles under his breath as he runs his hand through his hair. “I was so fucking self-destructive. Classic Psychology 101 case. Doing anything to get Mommy and Daddy’s attention. When I had it, I tried to forget who I was, and then when that didn’t happen, I wanted to disappear again.”
Turning his back to me, he aims his focus out the window and keeps his voice low. “I used to go to bad neighborhoods and pick fights. I wanted to feel good about myself, powerful, to try to control something in my life. My friends were there with me. But it’s a joke that we’re all in college like we weren’t left for dead a few times.”
He looks back at me over his shoulder. “You fought to survive while I was fighting to die.”
It’s hard to swallow as I decipher between the man I know and the guy he speaks of. “I don’t understand.”
“I know, but one day, you’ll see me for who I am. Our souls won’t matter. We’ll have to try again in the next lifetime.”
I stand and go to him. “I’m not a scared little girl. I’ve been through hell. I’ll go back if I can pull you from its bowels.” Wrapping my arms around him, I lean against him, listening to his beating heart. It’s as strong as he is.
The angst calms, and his arm comes around me. He kisses my head. I say, “Good thing I didn’t fall for you because of your money.”
He balks, then starts laughing. When he looks down at me, I say, “Richer or poorer—with lifetimes behind us, I’m sure we’ve said those vows before.”
Taking my hand, he kisses my knuckles. “For better or worse.”
I don’t say the next lines because in this life or the next, death will always divide us. And I’ve never felt this strongly for anyone, so I can’t handle those consequences.
But after seeing the pain of what his family is doing to him, their need for him to be what they want instead of who he is with me, I must be the bigger person in this scenario. Bringing his hand to my mouth, I kiss it, closing my eyes and savoring the feel of him against my lips.
The city comes to life as the countdown ends. He checks his watch and then looks at me like he wants me to decide. “I choose you always, Cooper Haywood.”
We kiss, our mouths coming together on the stroke of midnight. “Happy New Year, Story Salenger.”
It’s then that I believe it. “Us against them.”
We kiss again as fireworks shoot in the distance.
We might not always have explosions to celebrate our time together, but we’ll always have this kiss to launch our future.
Our love will keep us strong, but with so much left for him to reconcile, I make him a promise that I’ll keep forever. “I will never pit you against your parents. An ultimatum of you having to choose between your family or me will never be put into the universe. So you do what you need to feel whole, Cooper, and I’ll be waiting.”
27
Story
Three months later . . .
* * *
“I love silver, but I’m still confused why you got a brand-new car in March.”
“Because it was a Christmas gift, and it takes time to build. It’s customized to my order.” Cooper’s arm is extended across the top of the passenger seat as we talk through the open window. “And how my other one wasn’t just green; this one is not just silver. It’s Indus Silver.”
If I stare at him long enough, I’m hoping this will make sense. “Okay.” I’m still lost how parents who seemingly hate their kid go out and spend whatever this car costs on them. And more importantly, why did he take it?
He revs the engine enough to cause me to look back at the coffee shop in embarrassment. Lila gives me two thumbs-up in approval. I just roll my eyes. Leaning over the passenger’s seat, he pops the door open. “C’mon, get in.”
Guess I need to, or everyone on the block will soon be staring. I slip into the car and buckle up. Inside the luxurious dark interior, I finally let him enjoy his present. “It is a very pretty car.”
Eyeing the front through the windshield, I ask, “No leaping jaguar on the front?”
“I had that installed aftermarket. This time, since it’s the sports car . . .” He beams as he shifts into gear. “The Jaguar F-type luxury sports car, to be exact. I’m going with the sleek design of the hood.”
I laugh. His excitement, the joy that he’s found in this car, is contagious. “Okay. Okay. Let’s just get going.”
