Chapter Twenty-One
Allegra
The sterile scent of antiseptic and lemon hit me as Cooper held open the door to Les Jardins de Montmartre , one of the most exclusive private care facilities in Paris. The lobby, with its hardwood floors and elegant furnishings, looked more like a five-star hotel than a medical facility. But then, given what Cooper must be paying for his father’s care, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“He has good days and bad days,” Cooper said quietly, his hand resting gently on the small of my back. There was an undercurrent of tension in his voice that I’d never heard before. “Sometimes he’s completely lucid, other times...”
I nodded, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch. “I understand.”
The receptionist greeted Cooper by name, her smile warm and familiar. As we made our way to the elevator, I noticed how the staff all seemed to know him, offering quiet nods of recognition. He must visit often, I realized. Another piece of the puzzle that was Cooper Moreau clicked into place.
“He’s been asking about paying for his stay,” the nurse told us as she led us down a sun-filled corridor. “ We’ve reassured him, but he gets anxious about it.”
Cooper’s jaw tightened slightly. “Thanks, Marie. I’ll handle it.”
James Moreau’s suite was larger than my apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a meticulously maintained garden. He sat in a plush armchair by the window, a book open in his lap though his eyes weren’t focused on the pages. Despite the obvious signs of his illness—the gauntness of his face, the way his sweater hung loosely on his frame—I could see Cooper in his strong features. His silver hair was neatly combed back from a high forehead, and his hands, though liver-spotted, remained steady as they rested on the book’s leather cover. The same pronounced cheekbones and determined set of the jaw that I’d grown so familiar with in Cooper’s face were there in his father’s, though time and sickness had carved deeper lines around his mouth and eyes.
“Dad,” Cooper said softly, moving to his father’s side. “How are you feeling today?”
James looked up, confusion clouding his features before recognition dawned. “Cooper.” His voice was weak but carried a warmth to it. His eyes drifted to me, curious. “And who might this lovely young lady be?”
“This is Allegra,” Cooper said simply. “She’s...a friend.”
Something flickered in James’s eyes—a moment of shrewd assessment that downplayed his condition. “A friend?” he repeated, his gaze moving between us. “Just a friend?”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks as Cooper cleared his throat. “How about some water, Dad? Are you thirsty?”
James waved off the deflection. “I may be losing my mind, son, but I can still see what’s right in front of me.” He turned to me, his gaze surprisingly sharp. “Tell me, Allegra, how long have you known my boy?”
“A few months,” I answered, moving closer to the chair. “I was his physical therapist.”
“Ah,” James nodded, then frowned. “Cooper, the treatments are so expensive. I don’t want you working so hard...”
“Everything’s taken care of,” Cooper assured him, and I watched as the tenderness returned to his voice. “Don’t worry about the bills, Dad. I’ve got it all handled.”
“But how?” James insisted, agitation creeping into his tone. “You’re so young...too young to carry such burdens...”
“I’m not that young anymore,” Cooper said gently. “And I’m doing fine. More than fine.”
I watched them interact, seeing a side of Cooper I’d never witnessed before. The patience in his voice, the easy way he redirected his father’s concerns—it was so different from the confident, sometimes arrogant man I knew.
“Your mother would be so worried,” James murmured, his mind clearly drifting. “Clara always worried about money...”
“Mom’s been gone a long time, Dad,” Cooper reminded him softly, and I saw the flash of pain cross his face. “But I promise you, everything’s okay.”
James seemed to focus again, his eyes finding mine. “You seem familiar. Have we met before?”
“No, sir,” I said. “This is my first visit.”
“Hmm.” He studied me intently. “There’s something about you...the way my son looks at you... ”
Cooper moved quickly to intervene. “How about we get some fresh air, Dad? The garden looks beautiful today.”
But James wasn’t so easily deterred. “You remind me of Clara,” he said suddenly. “That same gentle strength. Cooper needs that, you know. Someone to ground him.”
I felt my stomach clench. Cooper had never mentioned his mother to me.
“Dad,” Cooper’s voice held a warning note, but James continued as if he hadn’t heard.
“He takes too much on himself. Always has. Even as a boy...” James’s voice trailed off, his eyes growing distant. “The bills...they’re so expensive...”
“I’ll get some water,” Cooper said abruptly, standing. The tension in his shoulders was visible as he left the living room.
Left alone with Cooper’s father, I watched as lucidity seemed to return to his eyes. “He won’t tell you, you know,” he said quietly.
“Tell me what?”
“About how it started. The things he did...for me.” James’s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his sweater. “He was a boy when I got sick. Just turned seventeen. A track star…he should have gone to university…but the medical expenses...” He shook his head. “I didn’t know at first. Where the money was coming from. By the time I figured it out...”
My heart clenched as understanding began to dawn. “He was trying to help you.”
James nodded, his eyes filling with tears. “My brilliant, stubborn son. He told me not to worry, that he’d handle everything. Started bringing in money—for better treatments, better care. When I finally realized what he was doing, I tried to stop him...” He looked at me intently. “He said nothing was more important than keeping me alive. That he could handle whatever came his way.”
I thought about Cooper at seventeen, barely more than a boy, taking on such a burden. Making choices that would shape the rest of his life, all to save his father. The weight of that knowledge settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Why are you telling me this?” I whispered.
“Because I see the way he looks at you. And I see how you look at him.” James reached out, his hand trembling as he took mine. “He needs someone who understands him. Really understands him.”
Before I could respond, Cooper returned with a glass of water. He paused in the doorway, taking in our clasped hands, and heavy emotion rippled across his face.
“Everything okay?” he asked carefully.
“Just getting to know your young lady,” James said, a hint of mischief in his tone. Then confusion clouded his features again. “Are you Cooper or Colton?”
The moment was broken. I watched as Cooper moved smoothly into caretaker mode, reassuring his father and then checking his medication schedule with practiced ease. The tenderness with which he helped his father take the pills, the way he automatically adjusted the pillows for maximum comfort—it all painted a picture so different from the man I thought I knew.
As the morning wore on, James drifted in and out of lucidity. Sometimes he knew exactly who we were, engaging in sharp, witty conversation. Other times, he’d grow confused, worried about bills or asking about people long gone. Through it all, Cooper remained patient, gentle, never showing frustration even when repeating the same reassurances over and over.
When James began to tire, Cooper immediately noticed. “We should let you rest, Dad.”
“Already?” James protested, but I could see the exhaustion in his face.
“We’ll come back soon,” Cooper promised, leaning down to embrace his father. The gesture was so natural, so full of love, that I had to look away. I’d never had anything like that with my father, and I never would.
“Allegra,” James called as we prepared to leave. His mind was clear again, knowing. “Take care of my boy.”
I hugged him carefully, mindful of his frailty. “I will,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if he’d remember this conversation in an hour.
The drive back to the city was quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, I reached over and took Cooper’s hand. “Thank you for bringing me today.”
He glanced at me, and for the first time since I’d known him, I saw true vulnerability in his expression, saw the real Cooper completely unbared. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I squeezed his hand. “Your father is amazing. I can see where you get your strength from.”
Cooper was quiet for a long moment. “He told you, didn’t he? About how it all started?”
“He did,” I admitted. “Cooper, why didn’t you tell me yourself?”
He shrugged, but I could see the weight he carried on his broad shoulders. “It doesn’t change anything. The choices I made, the things I’ve done...”
“It changes everything,” I interrupted. “You were just a kid, trying to save your only remaining parent.”
Cooper pulled the car over suddenly, putting it in park before turning to face me. “Allegra, I—” His voice broke, and I could see the emotion he was fighting to control.
I reached out, touching his face gently. The gesture felt more intimate than any of our previous interactions. “You are a good man, Cooper Moreau. What you’ve done for your father, the way you’ve taken care of him all these years...it’s incredible.”
He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them, the vulnerability there took my breath away. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
The words hung between us, heavy with meaning. My heart pounded as I realized how close we were, how easy it was to close the distance between us. I leaned in and kissed him gently, showing him how I felt about the man he truly was.
“You deserve more than you know, Cooper.”
As we drove back into the city, I found myself stealing glances at him, seeing him in a completely new light. Cooper Moreau might have started his criminal career out of desperation to save his father, but he was so much more than his past. And I was beginning to realize just how deep my feelings for him really went.