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The invitation has haunted us for months.
I didn’t mention it, and neither did he. Even hidden out of sight in a kitchen drawer at his place, though, its presence was always known. I think that’s why he stopped going to his apartment more than a few times a week. We just needed to get our footing on solid ground and have a better understanding of what we wanted before involving others.
The warmer weather had brought a nice tan to Cooper’s skin from spending more time outdoors. He’d gotten quieter since the invitation’s arrival but also more attentive if that makes any sense. I was surprised with picnics and rides on rented boats down at the lake.
My romantic side loved every minute. But a thought had embedded itself into the back of my mind, whispering that our time was running out.
I wouldn’t blame him for leaving because deep down, I know he’d never leave me if he had another choice. I’m still not sure what’s involved with his inheritance, but how long is he expected to go through life without contact with his family? It’s something I could never require of him, no matter how much they hate me.
With the end of the semester approaching in less than a month, the bell above the shop door rings, causing me to look up from a customer’s order. Standing with his hands in his pockets, Cooper looks every bit the traitor with his somber expression.
I used to be an optimist, but that was before I had so much to lose.
“You can sit anywhere,” I say, trying to hold my emotions in check and pretend he’s not here to break my heart. “I’ll be right over.”
Forcing my attention back to ringing up the customer in front of me, I hand the bagged muffin to them, and say, “Thank you.”
When they walk away, I tread across the floor, checking on the few customers here today. I stop at Cooper’s table and bend to kiss him. His lips are cold instead of the warm embrace I’m used to. Sitting across the table from him, I ask, “How was your day?” and then tug at my bottom lip, waiting for him to answer.
“Story . . .” His voice is more somber than his expression. He runs his hand through his hair—that nervous tic getting the best of him.
“That’s not a great.”
He shifts in his chair, glancing at a couple passing by outside on the sidewalk. “I can’t leave the business with my family unfinished any longer.” I nod once, trying to read every thought crossing his eyes.
“You didn’t leave it unfinished. You chose me. Remember?”
“I did.” He doesn’t reach across the table to hold my hand or bother trying to reassure me. “And I still do.”
Oh, thank God.
I still can’t manage to say anything over the blockage in my throat.
“But I’ve decided to go to the party.”
“Your graduation party that they are hosting whether you show up or not?”
This time, he nods. “I can be mad that they’re assholes, but—”
“But?”
“But I’ve never needed anything or been left to want—”
“Except their love, which they use to blackmail you.”
Shaking his head, he replies, “I don’t need their love because I have you.”
I shouldn’t have an argument against that. We designed our relationship to work that way. Guilt still tinges my heart, though, so I say, “If you can meet them in the middle and come to peace with them, you should.”
He finally reaches across the table and holds his hand palm up for me. When I slide my hand in his, he says, “But I won’t go without you.”
“I’m not going.” Just as I begin to pull back, his grasp on me tightens. Stuck in a deadlocked staring contest, I finally blink. Leaning forward, I whisper, “They hate me, Cooper.”
“They do.” His confirmation smacks me in the chest, but his hand still holds mine like he’s never going to let go. “They hate you because of me, not because of you.”
“How is that different?”
“Because this time we go back with nothing to lose. We know where we stand with our relationship. I need to know where I stand with them.”
I look around at the other customers. No one appears to need anything, so I stay, his reasoning making sense. Before I decide, he adds, “I won’t go unless you go. I can promise you that.”
Am I going to be the one to stand in their way on the path to making up? I promised I would never make him choose between them or me, and I can’t start now.
“You can RSVP for both of us.”
“I will.” I get that golden boy smile that will always work to get his way. Fortunately for me, I received it after I’d already made my decision—what’s best for us and for me personally.
