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He stumbles backward and braces a hand out to catch himself as he falls back to the corner of the bed. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he refuses to even look back in my direction. It’s not like I can blame him. There are some days that I can’t even stand to look at myself.
Now that he’s got an answer, does he regret asking that question? That answer leads down a rabbit hole that I’m not sure either of us is prepared for.
The silence causes my skin to itch with anxiety. I need to say something—anything.
“Coop,” I croak, the tears fighting so hard to fall. When he looks up and our eyes collide, I’m done for. His tear-filled eyes match those that I awoke to in the hospital. The ones that say there are so many things that he wants to say but just can’t find the strength to say them. “Say something.”
“I—I,” he stammers, and I’m not used to seeing Cooper Graham speechless. He looks up at the ceiling and exhales a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say.” Silence passes over us again. “Why?” The frailness in his voice shatters my heart even more.
Tears are now streaming down my cheeks. I can’t stop them anymore.
“Umm, give me a moment to change out of this towel, okay?”
Cooper nods but remains silent, almost in a daze. Seeing him like this breaks my heart. The truth lingers in the air, attempting to suffocate us. I head toward my closet and slip into the panties that I had grabbed and reach for my robe hanging on the hook on the door. I think Cooper might crawl out of his skin if I make him wait any longer. Honestly, so might I. Part of me wants to wait to have this talk and put it off as long as possible, but I also want to get this over with, too.
After tying the sash around my waist, I sit down next to Cooper and place my hands in my lap.
Cooper’s leg bounces with anticipation as I try to find the words to start. There’s only one person who knows about this, not even my sisters, and that was only because he found me on the bathroom floor, blood streaking down my thighs. The look of terror and confusion on Austin’s face haunts me to this day—the look of fear in his eyes that he was going to lose someone else close to him.
I place my palm over Cooper’s knee, which is bouncing so much I can hear the picture frames rattling on top of the dresser.
I focus on my fingers spread over his jeans, clinging to the fabric that is snug against his thighs. Cooper’s gaze drops to my hand as he places his own over mine, linking our fingers. I channel the strength he’s trying to give me and focus on our joined hands as I open my mouth to speak.
“For the record, I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to feel something.”
He gently squeezes my fingers, so I continue. “Dance had always been my emotional escape. No matter the mood—good or bad—I could express myself through dance. It was the one thing where I could both lose and find myself. Dancing was one of the two most important things in my life. You were the other one. After the accident, it was clear my future had shifted and I wasn’t going to dance again. It hurt like hell, but at least I still had you.” I pause again. At this rate, I’m never going to get through this. “Until I didn’t,” I say just above a whisper.
I release a shuddering breath. “In a matter of months, I lost my two best friends, the love of my life, and the dream I’ve had since I was a little girl. When I thought of my future as a child, I only ever saw dance, and then when I met you, I saw youanddance. Then you were both just gone. It just all became too much—I was drowning.
“People said time would heal, journaling would help, focusing on my physical therapy would alleviate the ache, but none of them worked. A weight was pressing on my chest that made each breath hard work. If something as simple as breathing in and out was difficult, how was I to tackle the harder tasks?”
At some point, our hands flipped over. I’m not sure who made the move, him or me, but neither of us pulls away. We find strength in each other where our palms now kiss.
“With each pinch of the metal against my skin, pressure released from the weight in my chest. Similar to the way a balloon slowly releases air after puncturing a hole in the latex. The soft hiss of air as it deflates matched what my breath became. Each time, a surge of energy rushed through my veins—relief.”
I knew it was wrong, but it was all I could find to feel better, so I did it anyway.
The night Austin found me on the bathroom floor, I had only done it a handful of times. As I close my eyes, trying to steady my labored breathing, Austin’s distraught face is as clear in my mind as if he were standing right in front of me.
“Austin, it hurts. It hurts so much.”
Austin rushed over to my side and took in the dribbling blood between my thighs.
“Let me get these cuts cleaned up,” he breathed out, running his hands through his hair.
I shook my head. “Not that. It hurts in here.” I placed my hand over my heart. “I hate him. I hate him so much.”
Austin crouched down in front of me, cupping my cheek with his palm. His thumb swiped away the fallen tears. “You don’t hate him, but that’s okay.” He brushed his lips gently across my forehead before he scooped me in his arms and carried me to the shower.
“Show me,” Cooper finally speaks, pulling me from my memories.
“What?” I twist my body to face him and pull one leg under me.
“Show me,” he repeats.
It takes a second for the fog in my brain to clear to understand what he’s asking. I pull my hand away and instantly miss the loss of his touch. Rising to my feet, I pace in front of him, needing to put distance between us. To keep my hands from fidgeting, I grip the knot on my robe tightly. “Cooper, I don’t know—”
“Please.” His tortured eyes meet mine, and for once, this isn’t the man who took my heart and smashed it but the innocent boy who promised me the world. The one who I gave and trusted my heart with and who gave me his in return.
