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Clouds roll in midafternoon, and by the time I reach the town, I’m stuck in a downpour. Though it’s only been a week since I’ve been here, my wounds are still fresh from Camille’s attack. I need to get a hold of myself, use my mental strength and keep a clear head because I don’t know what I’m going to encounter next, and it would be stupid not to prepare for the unexpected.
The rain ceases at the entrance as if the Haywoods have paid for their own personal sunshine. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit. Everything in their world can be bought.
The driveway feels longer than before, but I’m assuming it’s the same and just the dread that keeps me from going. I start to second-guess myself. What am I doing? What is my goal?
To tell Cooper goodbye or to see if he’s even alive? Is the baby an excuse to see him again, or am I doing the right thing by opening this door?
I have no clue anymore. The only one who’s ever disappeared without warning was my mother. Her murder taught me that we don’t always get the goodbye we deserve. Sometimes, there’s no closure and only pain left behind.
Somehow, I’ve managed to give Cooper the benefit of the doubt most of the week. Sure, it ebbed and flowed with my emotions, but it never sank in that he did this willingly. As I park the car in front of the house, his will or purpose becomes my prevailing thought. What if he just couldn’t say the words to break up, he’s too weak to talk to me, or worse, I tell him that I’m pregnant, and he still wants nothing to do with me or my baby?
I rub my stomach once more like Buddha, hoping it will bring me luck. All I can do is play it by ear. I raise my head, mustering my strength. If he wants nothing to do with us, he’s going to have to say it, to taste those words and swallow them down. That way, I’ll have something to remember him by.
Looking around gives me no clue whether Cooper is here or if his family has gone back to the city. I don’t see any signifiers, not even other cars. But I didn’t drive all this way to ask for him to take me back or to give my forgiveness for him running away. One goal. I’m having his baby.
Opening the door, I step out and shove the keys in the front pocket of my jeans.
Five steps up and I’m standing in front of the door. I can ring the bell, or I can knock, but it shouldn’t be this big of a decision. Why am I hesitating?
I look back over my shoulder at the long walk just to leave the property. I need to prepare for that if they take the car away from me. I can’t afford a ride app to get me back to Atterton. Suddenly, I’m not feeling so good about this plan. The door swings open, though, and I’m caught in it.
I was hoping for Patrice, though the buildup was so great that I almost expected Camille to be there flashing an engagement ring. So many different scenarios played out in my head that I’m thrown by this guy in ordinary clothes. He asks, “How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Cooper.”
His eyes volley between mine, and then a gentle smile appears. “I’m sorry. He’s not available right now.”
The door starts to close, so I shove my hand out to block it. “I’ve driven a long way. Can I please wait?”
He checks behind him, and uncertainty reaches his eyes. “I guess. Would you like to wait in the foyer?”
If that means I’m about to see Cooper, hell yes, I want to wait in the foyer. “Yes, thank you,” I reply, thinking that’s a more appropriate response.
He leads me inside and then directs me to sit on a bench. “I’ll let the Haywoods know we have company.”
“Thank you.” It dawns on me too late when I realize he said Haywoods—plural. Oh, shit. Do I dart to the door and make a run for it? Or stay and hope Cooper finds me first?
I’ve never been much of an eavesdropper, but when I hear voices travel from the living room around the corner and off the marble floors to my ears, and the name Cooper is mentioned, I listen.
“He doesn’t know what he wants . . .” His mom. Her voice trails into a whisper.
“He does.” I’d know that voice anywhere. My blood pressure rises from the sound of Camille’s high octave. Why is she even here? “We’re not allowing him to have it.” I perk up. That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard come from her mouth.
“Camille, dear, Cooper is too different from her. He’s strong-willed and has all the connections in the world to make him successful. You’ll plant the seed, water it, and watch him grow into the man we know he can be.” I hate that she refers to him as a plant. He once made the same comparison because I was the sunlight he needed.
