Chapter Fifty-Eight
Cooper
Dad takes one look at me as I collapse onto the couch beside him and snorts so loudly it rattles the popcorn bowl in his lap. “You look beat.”
“Lockie’s been making me run,” I say, grabbing a handful of the snack. “For days. Against my will. It’s abuse, Dad.”
He laughs harder, smacking my aching thigh with zero sympathy. “Good to see some things never change, eh?”
Mom’s voice catches my attention, the lighthearted sound flowing from inside the kitchen.
Pushing up from the couch, I head toward her, finding her at the sink, bubbles up to her elbows.
Lockie stands beside her, drying dishes with that same soldier-straight posture, like he can’t not be efficient.
She glances back at me, her smile warm, before giving Lockie a little nudge.
“Where do I find myself a bodyguard? This one’s been helping me while you’ve been all moody.”
“I’m not moody.”
“Wallowing in despair is what I’d call it,” he deadpans.
“Fuck you,” I grumble, but there’s no heat behind it as I slide onto a bar stool.
“Language, Cooper.” Mom’s gaze sharpens, that maternal precision honed over decades. “So…when are you going to see Declan?”
My entire body stiffens. “What?”
“You heard me.” She plants her hands on her hips. “You’ve been home for nearly a week, and you’ve been here practically every night. I love you, honey, truly, I do, but something’s clearly eating at you.”
I rub at the back of my neck as my gaze lowers to the countertop. “We’re…not really talking right now.”
Mom exhales slowly, like she’s choosing her words carefully.
“I’m not asking for details; that’s your business.” She stares at me, a frown marring her delicate features. “But I know when you’re hurting, and avoiding whatever it is with Declan won’t make it any better.”
“How do you do that?”
“You honestly think you can hide things from your mom?” She levels me with a stare. “I’m not getting involved. I don’t need to know what happened, or whose fault it is, but I won’t sit here and watch you mope over something you refuse to face.”
“I’m not moping. I’m fine.”
Mom steps closer, cupping my cheek with the same easy tenderness she’s had my whole life. I look away, blinking hard.
“Cooper.”
“I don’t know how to fix it, Mom,” I whisper, letting myself lean into her touch.
“Since when has that stopped you? Look at who you’ve become. You’ve worked your ass off to get to where you are. Never letting anything stand in your way.” She straightens, a look of defiance on her face. “This isn’t some random friend from school. This is Declan, honey.”
Heat crawls up my neck. I can’t tell her the truth, not when I fucked things up.
“You know, when you were younger, your father and I half expected you to show up one day and tell us that you were together.”
My eyes widen. “Mom—”
“Oh, hush. Everyone thought it.” She leans toward Lockie, whispering conspiratorially, “Weren’t a couple, but I swear they were definitely up to so—”
“Jesus, Mom,” I groan, glaring at her. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”
“Fine. But you know I’m right,” she says, quirking her eyebrow. “Fix it, Cooper.”
I bristle. “Can you not treat me like I’m ten?”
“Then stop acting like you are,” she teases, reaching over to brush her thumb across my cheek one last time before she pulls back. “Go sit, I’ve got dessert.”
As she moves away, Lockie leans against the breakfast bar, arms folded. “You okay?”
I nod, even if it is unconvincing, the truth pressing on my chest. “I’m going to see him.”
I don’t just miss Declan. I miss the version of me that existed when he was close. Before the chaos and noise became too much, taken over by the name I wear like armor.
I thought I needed to come home to reset, catch my breath and slow down, step off the treadmill that wouldn’t stop moving. But maybe I was lying without knowing it. Maybe the thing I was reaching for wasn’t peace.
It was him.
Me with him.
I just didn’t see it until now.
“I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to fix this,” I whisper, straightening in my seat. “But I’m going to damn well try.”