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I wanted to ask who had and what she meant by “all,” but that wasn’t important—for now. She walked over to the sofa, plopped down on it in a way that led me to think she was feeling no pain, and rested her head against the back of it.
“This was a mistake,” she said, staring up at the ceiling through the hair that covered most of her face.
“What exactly?”
“This. You. Especially you.” She sat up and tried to fold her arms, and then evidently remembered one was in a cast. “Buck wasn’t supposed to let you in.”
I smiled and ran my finger down her cheek. “You let me in, Ali.”
She flopped against the back of the couch again and closed her eyes. I moved the hair from her forehead.
“It’s hopeless.”
I shifted closer and put my arm around her. “Nothing’s hopeless.”
“It is. No matter how many times you move it, my hair just goes right back.” She leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder.
“What happened today, Ali?”
She took a deep breath and blew it out, confirming she’d had at least some of the other bottle of wine. “She said you were taken with me, and she told me not to regret it. Wait. That isn’t right. She told me not to make you regret it.”
This was sounding more like my mother, but not quite. Something else must’ve happened. Rather than question Ali further, I’d ask my mom tomorrow.
“You will,” she whispered.
“Not a chance.”
“Why are you so nice to me?” She turned her body more and buried her head in my shoulder. Not five minutes later, when I heard her soft snores, I gathered her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Her bed was already unmade, so I set her down and covered her with the sheet and blanket before toeing off my shoes, removing my tie and shirt, and dropping my pants. Ali’s back was to me, so I curled myself around her body and draped my arm over her waist.
“I really like you, Cope.”
“I really like you too, Ali.”
I don’t know how long it was before she got up and went into the bathroom. When she came back, she had taken off my sweatshirt and sat on the side of the bed. I got out on the other side, came around, and helped her remove her yoga pants.
“What about these?” she asked when I left her panties on. I removed those as carefully as I had her pants.
I was told what a good guy I was countless times in my life, to the point that I hated hearing it. Right now, I hated being it.
By the time I walked around the end of the bed and crawled in beside her, Ali was snoring again. Like before, I curled my body into hers and fell asleep too.
“Cope,” Ali said, shaking me.
I opened my eyes. “What? Are you okay?”
“You have to go.”
It took me a minute to figure out where I was. “What time is it?”
“Five. You have to go, or you’ll be late.”
I rested my head against the pillow. “It’s Sunday, Ali, and even if it weren’t, there’d be no court today.”
“Why not?”
I hadn’t made up my mind whether I’d tell her what happened, and she obviously hadn’t heard. “Get back in bed.” When she did, I drew her close to me. “They found a bomb in the courthouse Friday afternoon.”
