“He knew.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” A year was a long time. He’d been in school for two semesters, and I hadn’t noticed. How had I not noticed?
“I thought about it,” he said. “But I wanted to make sure I could do it, you know? I didn’t want to get you all worked up, and then drop out or something, and then have to tell you.”
“I would never think of you as a failure.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s not how you are. At least, not when it comes to other people.”
“Meaning?”
“Coop, forgive yourself.”
James looked at me sadly, and I had the feeling he kind of thought he was talking to a little kid. He wasn’t entirely wrong, though. I’d been carrying a huge burden. I’d been carrying so much guilt that sometimes, it overwhelmed me. There was plenty of guilt in the world, and I’d taken a lot for myself. It was easy to tell other people to forgive themselves. It was so much harder when it was you.
“I don’t know if I can,” I told him.
“If you don’t, it’ll eat you up alive. You’re getting a second chance, brother. Close your eyes and take the leap.”
7.
Cordelia
MY DAY SEEMED TO DRAG on, but soon it was time to meet Cooper for dinner. When I arrived at the restaurant he’d chosen, I was delightfully surprised to see that he was already there and waiting outside by the doors. I’d driven instead of walking – a rare choice for me – because I didn’t want to be sweaty when I arrived, and I was already wildly nervous.
As soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up, and that was the best damn feeling in the world. He’d noticed me. Cooper Clark had finally noticed me, and he’d invited me out, and more than that, he seemed happy to see me.
No, no, he seemed delighted to see me.
That was its own reward, I thought. Having someone wonderful and wild and sexy notice you and feel excited to see you felt like floating.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
He hugged me by way of greeting, and I hugged him right on back. He smelled good, and the scent made me feel even more like I was dreaming.
“Shall we go inside?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing nervously.
We went into the restaurant and were taken to our seats. It was a small, locally owned Italian restaurant that served the best lasagna you’d ever had in your life.
“I know everyone says not to eat pasta on a first date,” Cooper said.
“But they haven’t eaten here,” I said, agreeing with him. “This place is the best.”
We gorged ourselves on breadsticks and pasta and we each had a glass of wine. Somehow, talking to Cooper felt natural and easy. It seemed normal, and I realized about halfway through dinner that this was something I’d never felt with Jake. Cooper seemed to notice my change in attitude right away.
“Is everything okay?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Cordelia?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you better than that.”
“Okay,” I said, spinning my fork in my pasta. I twirled it, and then I looked up at him. “I’m thinking about my ex.”
It was honest, but I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Hadn’t Cooper and I gotten into this predicament because we hadn’t been truthful enough with each other? We hadn’t been honest. We hadn’t done anything like that. The two of us had made the mistake of believing what other people said was happening instead of just going to the source and talking to each other.
Communication could save a lot of trouble. At least, I thought it could. That was my theory.
I waited, looking at Cooper. Was he going to freak out? Jake always had. If I ever tried to bring up high school or people I’d thought about, people I’d wanted to date, or Cooper in particular, Jake would shake his head and hold up a hand and snap at me about it.
Cooper didn’t, though.
Instead, he set his fork down, laced his fingers together, and propped his chin on his hands.
“What about your ex?” He asked.
“You aren’t mad?”
“That you’ve dated other people?”
I nodded.
He only laughed.
“Cordelia, we’re in our thirties. I hardly think you’re a virgin.” Then he cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t a virgin, are you? Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he quickly added.
“No, I’m not a virgin.”
“Then what were you thinking about?”
“I was in a long-term relationship,” I said. “And when I say long-term, I mean a really long time. I mean, Jake and I were together for ages. We worked together. We lived together. We did everything together. When you’re with someone that long, it kind of feels like the relationship is never going to end.”
“But something happened, and it did end. We talked about that a little bit,” Cooper pointed out gently.
He didn’t say, “but Jake cheated on you.” I appreciated that. It had been a big problem that reflected on the healthiness of our relationship, but that wasn’t the problem I was thinking about as I ate with Cooper.
“A lot of things happened,” I sighed. “But what I was thinking about in particular is that I never felt comfortable with him.”
“What made you think of that?”
“I feel comfortable with you,” I said.
“I feel comfortable with you, too,” he said. “Probably more comfy than I should, if I’m being honest.”
“Is that true?”
“It’s true.”
The feeling that followed his statement made me feel wildly happy. Content. It made me feel so damn happy that I thought I might throw up again, but I’d made a promise to myself not to let Cooper see me puke again unless it was because we got really, really drunk. I needed to figure out a way to get my stomach under control. Having a crush on Cooper wasn’t good for my digestive system.
“When I was with Jake, I always felt like I was walking on eggshells.”
“I had a few girlfriends who made me feel that way, too,” Cooper confessed.
“Really?”
“Truly. It’s a horrible feeling, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“It’s like, the one person you’re supposed to be yourself with is the one person who’s holding you back from being who you want to be.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I dated one girl who hated that I worked with teachers and female students. She was constantly worried I was going to cheat on her with one of the teachers or that I’d somehow make a pass at a student.”
Cooper shook his head as though it was the grossest thing he could think of.
“Our last principal was fired for sexual indecency,” he said.
“You told me.”
“It made her question all principals, though, as if being in that job position is what turned someone into a snake.”
“She made you feel like you weren’t good enough,” I commented.
“Pretty much. I felt like I was constantly forced to defend myself,” he said.