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We’re back in our reindeer pj’s, curled up together on the bed after finishing our noodles earlier. It’s not a tradition I particularly love, but watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s has carried on from watching it with my mom. And Cooper was patient enough to sit through it with me.
Pushing up on my hand, I twist toward him. “It’s glamorous in some ways and quirky in others, but ultimately, I’ve always felt the characters are so sad on the inside.”
With his back against the wall, he says, “Maybe we’re all a little sad, but some of us are better at hiding it than others.” He looks at the laptop as the credits roll across the screen. “Moon River” adds to the somberness as it plays in the background. “I think there’s this inflated view of the storyline because of Audrey Hepburn. A girl I once dated was obsessed with little black dresses instead of how the only joy the characters find is in the little moments in each other’s company.”
Listening to him talk, I didn’t realize that my heart had crawled into my throat. Cooper’s eyes were once so bright that I thought emeralds would pale in comparison, but as I’ve gotten to know him, I’ve started to realize that it’s not the light in them that’s mesmerizing. It’s the dark. You just have to look a little harder.
He has so many layers to him that most will never have the privilege of knowing. I crawl onto his lap and don’t find comfort until his hand rests on my hip and the other arm wraps around my middle. “I love you,” I say, just us with no big fanfare.
“I love you, too, babe.” He kisses my head, and then I rest it on his shoulder. I lose track of time lying in his arms, but that’s the nice thing about holidays when everything is closed. Instead of days off when you have to run errands and finish to-do lists, we get to do what we want on Christmas.
Eventually, the silence is broken when he says, “I’m sorry about your mom and what you had to go through.”
I lift to see if maybe the movie's sadness has carried over, or maybe my loss fits the mood we’re in. Either way, my heart squeezes like he just gave it a kiss. “I know, Cooper. I feel the same.”
I curl around him again, never feeling closer to anyone than him. I’m not sure words will be enough, so I kiss him. When it deepens, I know we’re not going to get much sleep tonight, and I’m okay with that. Sad is the last thing I want to be with him.
Morning comes too soon. I yawn, my body becoming a traitor and forcing me to wake. I’d much rather stay tucked in Cooper’s arms all day than work. Alas, his arms won’t pay the bills.
I get out of bed and sneak around to get dressed. He’s sleeping so heavily that he doesn’t even move by the time I’m ready to leave. I decide to leave him a note like he left instead of waking him. I move to the desk where his phone is charging and shift it off the pad of paper. I write just a sweet nothing: Went to work. I love you, Story.
When his phone lights, I can’t help but read the text on the screen.
Mom: What time will you be here?
Caught up in my own feelings yesterday, I hadn’t thought about how his parents didn’t contact him, not even to wish him a happy holiday. My chest tightens as I swivel to look at him. He’s sleeping so peacefully, his expression and mind at rest.
Is it because he’s here?
I’m not sure what made him leave Haywood to come spend the past two days with me, but I also won’t question his motives. Whether he had a good reason or just wanted to see me, he came to be with me. For that alone, I just fell even harder for this man.
“We already said I love you.”
“You’re kidding me,” Lila says, mimicking the kid from Home Alone. “You guys didn’t waste time.” Emotion fills her eyes and causes her lip to wobble. I’m worried tears will follow. “Story?” Pulling me into a hug, she strokes me like a mom and her baby. “My little girl is all grown up.”
I laugh and push her off me. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yes, and you’re ridiculously in love.” She moves to the display case to restock the cookies. “He’s handsome, seems smart.” She glances at me as I lean against the counter. “Rich.”
“What makes you say that?”
“First of all, the bill and the tip were dead giveaways. But also, look at how he dresses. Designer clothes for a college kid? He’s from money, and you just struck oil, friend.”
