Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
C ooper
I stare at my phone, dead-eyed while trying to read the message from my professor about my midterm.
I fucked it up, and he’s going to let me retake it.
I should be happy, but I don’t feel anything other than numb indifference.
This year has been the worst of my life, and this semester has been hell on earth.
We took a week off in October when Mom died, and then immediately returned to Boston.
It was fucked up, but Dad was adamant we do not wallow.
That was the term he used. Mom made us promise to stick by our father before she passed.
Apparently, we’re only allowed to grieve when it’s not interfering with family plans.
The phone lights with a call from Sybil, and I’m momentarily taken aback.
We’re all products of our generation, texting more often than not, so I rarely get calls without a text first. That said, since things with Ethan went long distance, she’s been video-calling more and more.
Sometimes she calls me because Ethan sucks at answering.
“Sybil. Hi. How are you? Are you okay?” I clock this is a voice call. “Do you want to video?”
“Not today.” She sighs, sounding so defeated I want to reach through the phone and give her a big hug.
Her well-being is front and center in my mind lately. With the drama between our parents over the last month, things have been awful for everybody.
“Are you with Ethan?” she asks, and I hate that her voice sounds so guarded. My hackles instantly rise.
“He’s at the library with our study group. What’s going on?”
I don’t blame Ethan for being at the library every waking moment we’re not in class. That’s how he copes. When he’s upset, he works. It’s a trait he got from our father and one I don’t think anyone will ever break him of, not even Sybil.
Sybil sighs. “I feel so alone.”
Yeah. I know exactly how she feels. “You’re not alone. He’s grieving. And… you have me.”
We’ve talked about this extensively since the funeral. We don’t want everything going on with our parents to ruin our friendship or their engagement.
“He’s too busy with his MBA, yet you’re talking to me and you’re in the same program. How is that okay?”
“Well, he does get better grades than I do,” I joke. She doesn’t take the bait, and I let out a sigh. “He’s stuck in denial. We can’t put a timeline on his grief. You need to keep being patient.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But that doesn’t negate the fact that my fiancé hasn’t been available to me on any level, not physically and not emotionally. I’ve got nothing. I was prepared for a long-distance relationship, but I wasn’t prepared to be iced out.”
I swallow hard. Sybil deserves better—that’s what I should say. But this is Ethan. My twin and built-in best friend for life. His heart is shut off right now, but it’s a result of our mom’s death and the affair, not because of Sybil.
“I’ll talk to him,” I try. “He’ll come around soon.”
She’s quiet on the other end for a long minute, and I lie back in my bed, staring at my ceiling and not wanting her to end the call.
I wish we could talk about normal things again.
Every time we talk, it’s about our parents or my brother.
It’s never about us, and it’s never fun.
Every time I ask her how she’s doing, she tells me she’s okay, which means she’s lying.
I should know, considering I do the same thing.
I’m never okay these days.
“I guess if I’m being completely honest with myself, I know it won’t matter. I already know the truth about what I want,” she says.
My heartbeat speeds. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you should plan to be there for your brother. He’s going to need you.”
Panic slides up my throat, rendering me breathless.
I cried the day Mom died, and I haven’t cried since.
I think those floodgates are threatening to open up.
I wish I could see Sybil’s face. She can’t really mean this.
She loves Ethan more than anyone. And Ethan? He’s in pain. He can’t lose her, too.
I pull the phone away from my ear and immediately click the video-call button.
“I don’t want to see you right now,” she complains. “I’m all blotchy.”
“Too bad. I need to see your face for what you’re about to say, or I swear to God, I won’t believe it.”
Her beautiful face fills my screen. She smiles softly, but there’s deep sadness behind her soulful gaze.
“What are you doing?” I ask slowly. “Please don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing. The timing couldn’t be worse.”
She peers into the distance, unable to meet my eyes. “I’m a shitty person; I know that.” Her voice cracks and tears spring, slipping down the sides of her pale cheeks.
“You’re not a shitty person, no matter what decision you make.” She needs to know I’ll never think that of her. “You’ve been through a lot. We all have. But we don’t need to go through any more big changes right now. I don’t think you want to do what you’re going to do.”
She finally looks at me. “I’ve been going to therapy,” she says. “It’s really helping. Mom got us all going. It was one of the conditions she set for Dad. He wants to stay together, and she’s giving their marriage another shot.”
My stomach clenches, and I sit on the edge of the bed, suddenly filled with the desire to move. Run. Get out of my own damn skin. “Of course he does.” My voice sounds bitter. Angry. “His mistress is dead, so it makes it easy for him to choose his wife. How very convenient.”
“Don’t do that,” she pleads, and I stop myself from saying more. “But… I think you guys should go to therapy, too. Grief is so hard to handle, and it’s been really nice to have an unbiased professional to talk to about everything.”
“My father doesn’t believe in therapists,” I reply bitterly. “He says they mess with your head and get into your business.”
When we returned to school, the college tried to set us up with grief counselors, but Dad forbade it. We could’ve gone anyway, but neither Ethan nor I had any desire to anger our father.
“That’s kind of the point.” She rolls her eyes. “Your head is already messed up, so why not let someone else in there to see if they can help?”
“Sign me up,” I deadpan.
She smiles and for a moment it feels like everything is going to be okay, but I know okay is a very unlikely end to this situation.
“So what are you going to do, Syb?” I question, staring her dead in the eyes through this puny little screen.
“I’ve already made my decision. I know it’s the right thing, as hard as it is to let go sometimes.” She pauses, but only briefly. “I’m breaking up with Ethan.”
I have no words.
Part of me is elated she’ll be single, but that’s the fucked-up, shit-for-brains side to myself I won’t entertain. Most of me is heartbroken for my brother. This is going to wreck him.
“I really think you should hold off. It’s too soon to make a rash decision. Wait until Christmas break, after you’ve had time together again, and Ethan isn’t so focused on classes.”
We’re almost to the holidays. A few more weeks, and she can be with him in person. Mend things. Or end things. At least there will be more time for Ethan to get himself together. I’ll talk to him. Tell him he has to change or else she’s going to leave him. Make sure he does right by her.
She shakes her head. “Christmas is not going to change my mind. If anything, the holidays will make it more painful. I know this is heartbreaking. My heart is shattered too even though I’m the one doing the breaking, but I really feel this is the right decision for both me and Ethan. It’s necessary.”
“Why?” I demand. “Why the fuck would it be necessary?”
“Sometimes you have to break things before you can put them back together.”
I shake my head. “That sounds like some bullshit line your therapist fed you.”
She goes pink, but she also glares at me, and I know I’m right.
“If Ethan and I were strong enough to get through this, do you really believe you and I would’ve kissed?—”
“Stop,” I cut her off. “That was one mistake during your breakup, and we both moved on from it. You can’t count that against your many years of loving Ethan.”
She’s silent, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Did that kiss mean more than she let on? Does she think about it like I think about it?
“But it happened. It meant something. It didn’t mean you and I are meant to be together, but it meant that me and Ethan aren’t. I can’t keep pretending like Ethan and I are some perfect couple anymore.”
“It was one kiss,” I insist. “One time. One mistake. One stupid moment when you were at your lowest, and I was trying to make you feel better. It clearly didn’t mean something, since you went back to Ethan the next fucking day.
So don’t blame that and don’t blame me for your relationship not being perfect, because guess what?
From the outside, it looks pretty fucking amazing to me. ”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m blaming me. And I’m blaming Ethan for not showing up for me or even answering my calls.”
“He lost our mother,” I grind out. This one—this is the one that will finally get through to her. “He can’t lose you, too.”
She goes quiet for a long moment, hopefully considering my words, and I can’t help but wonder if Ethan would fight for his relationship the way I’m fighting for it.
“I get where you’re coming from, but Ethan’s already lost me.
The longer I wait, the harder it’ll be. Ultimately, I need to choose my family right now.
They don’t want me with Ethan anymore, but they’re willing to support me if he’s willing to love me.
” She chokes on a sob, her anger transforming to deep sadness so fast it’s like whiplash.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think he does. I think it may have happened a long time ago, but it’s taken the last three months of hell for me to admit it to myself.
Did he care when we canceled the October wedding?
No. He only wanted that wedding early for his mom, not for me, not for us. And now that everything has happened?—”
“You’ve decided you can’t be attached to someone with the last name King.” It was the wrong thing to say, and I immediately want to take it back. “ I can’t lose you,” I add, voice cracking into a great chasm.
Her tears fall freely, and pain racks my chest. I want to scream. But I can’t. I have to sit here and wait and know that losing her is exactly what’s about to happen. We’re going to have to pick sides. She’s going to choose her family, and I’m going to choose mine.
She wipes the tears, and a calm sense of finality falls over her. “I’m only telling you because Ethan will need you. This conversation was meant to warn you, nothing else. You won’t change my mind.”
“It’s like that, then?” My voice is as cold as ice. It has to be. The pain is too thick otherwise.
“I’m sorry, but it’s time to move on.”
“From Ethan? Or from me?”
She stares at me for a long second, her features hardening.
“From both of you. I’m sorry, Cooper. I really am.”
She doesn’t sound sorry. She doesn’t even sound broken anymore.
How can she be so sure about something like this?
“Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” I finish coldly.
“Goodbye, Cooper.”
I stare at her for a second longer, and then she hangs up. There’s no goodbye from me—there can’t be when it comes to this girl. I love her too much to treat her the way she has treated me. There’s only silence, a blank phone screen, and the cruel realization that I’ve lost her.