21. Cooper
TWENTY-ONE
Cooper
M eghan stayed with me for the remainder of the weekend, so I guess that means rule number six— no sleepovers— has gone out the window. After she found me in the shower, and we made love against the tiles, I carried her to my bed and practically begged her to stay.
Sunday morning, I woke her up by eating my favorite thing for breakfast. Her . We then spent the rest of the day having sex on every available surface in my apartment before she begged me to let her leave so she could look semi presentable for work tomorrow.
Reluctantly, I agreed and sent her with Christopher in the town car.
This morning, I’m excited, almost giddy, as I get ready for work. My funky mood from Saturday has gone, and I feel rejuvenated, like I could take on the world. Even though I’ve seen Meghan all weekend, I can’t wait to see her, to be in her presence again.
Whenever I’m around her I seem to forget I might not be good enough and allow myself to just enjoy the way she makes me feel.
She invigorates my soul.
Using the drive to the office to do some research, I reach out to a couple of reputable therapists via email.
As I watched Meghan sleep on Sunday morning, I decided I should see someone about my feelings of inadequacy because realistically, I can’t give Meghan what she wants, or needs, if I’m constantly second guessing myself.
I want to be the man she deserves.
Strolling from the elevator toward my office, a grin spreads across my face as I get closer and closer to her—I’m sure I look like a damn fool, but I couldn’t care less.
I pause when I get to her desk, finding it unoccupied causes my features to pull into a frown.
Her coat isn’t on the rack and her bag isn’t underneath the desk like I would expect it to be if she’d stepped away to get a coffee or into a meeting.
She’s normally here before me, getting set up for the day and as it’s already eight am, I know something isn’t quite right.
I continue into my office, placing my briefcase on my desk, and pull out my cell to call her. It goes straight to voicemail. Hanging up without leaving a message, I type out a text to her instead. I’m sure I’m worrying over nothing.
Cooper
Hope you’re okay. Just checking you’re on your way in? Call me when you get this.
Putting my phone away, I begin setting up for the day, the knot of worry in my stomach building. I'm due in court this afternoon and have some last-minute prep to do.
I’m sure she’ll turn up soon.
When I still haven’t heard from Meghan by lunchtime, and a call to HR confirms she hasn’t called in sick for the day, I decide to swing by her apartment after court.
All of the worst case scenarios rush through my mind and the knot of worry that’s been growing in my stomach all morning continues to churn.
This is just so out of character for her.
Judge Michaelson is a dick.
Despite me agreeing to opposing counsel's request for a continuance, he declined and instead ordered us to settle this matter out of court today . This means that instead of finishing at five, it’s after seven by the time we’re through.
I’d briefly wondered earlier if I should have asked her friend, Alex, to check on her, but I got rid of that idea almost as soon as it formed. If I reached out to her friend, I might give us away and I don’t know for certain that something is wrong.
Yes, it is. Something is very wrong.
Jogging down the stairs at the front of the courthouse, I spot Christopher parked in a no parking zone and sprint toward him.
Jumping into the backseat, I demand he drive me to Meghan’s and if he wants to keep his job, he’ll make sure I get there at double speed.
Pulling my phone out of my inner suit pocket, I switch it on and check for messages from Meghan—there’s still nothing from her.
Dammit.
My leg bounces with worry, and my fist is clenched in frustration at this whole situation. I should have delegated for someone else to go to court. She needs me, I’m sure of it. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself if it’s something bad, and I wasn’t there for her.
I can’t lose her.
Thankfully, Christopher makes quick time in getting to her place and I can see from the car that the lights are off and the curtains are open.
Christopher smirks at me in the rearview mirror as I jump out, not waiting for the car to come to a complete stop. If I had the time, I’d be having stern words with him about his all too knowing look.
As I’m racing up the stairs to her building, I thank whoever is watching over me for the fact that the old lady from my first visit is coming through the door.
The damn elevator is still out of order and as I take the stairs two at a time, I hope she just took the day and forgot to tell me about it.
But she would have texted me back if that was the case .
When it comes to Meghan, I’m so attuned to her, it’s uncanny, and I just know something isn’t right. My gut has been telling me this all day and the closer I get to her, the more and more angry I get with myself for not coming here sooner.
Arriving on the second floor, I swing the door open and it smacks against the wall on the other side.
Barrelling into the hallway like a possessed man, my legs carry me as fast as they can toward her door.
Just as I raise my hand to knock, I hear a whimper on the other side of the door, causing my stomach to drop.
“Meghan… baby?”
My ear is pressed to the door, listening for any sounds coming from inside.
It isn’t long before I hear a soul-destroying sob.
My body is pulled into action by the sound, my heart rate picks up and a sense of urgency takes me over again.
Trying the door handle, I send a silent prayer to the Gods as I find it unlocked and tentatively step into the darkened room.
As my eyes scan the space, I note that everything looks to be in place and I release a relieved sigh at the realization that it doesn’t look like she’s been broken into.
That relief is quickly wiped away when I find her sobbing on the floor, her back pressed against the wall, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She’s still dressed in her PJs and tears rush down her cheeks.
“Meghan…” I murmur as I crouch down in front of her .
She looks up at me, as if not realizing I’d enter her apartment, before scrambling into my arms as she buries her face in the crook of my neck. With one arm wrapped around her waist, I throw the other behind me to keep us upright from the force of her body plowing into mine.
I hold her for the longest time, trying to ease her tears enough that she can explain to me what’s happened.
With every tear that drips onto my exposed skin, my heart aches a little more for her.
I realize at this moment that I hate seeing her tears, seeing her in pain and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s never hurt again.
“What happened, baby?” I keep my voice as soft as possible, trying to keep the irrational need to inflict pain on whoever hurt her at bay.
She cries into my shoulder, her sobs even more guttural, as I stand and move us to the couch. She wraps her legs around me, hanging onto me like a koala bear. There’s nothing I can do but hold her, my hands stroking her back.
When her sobs don’t seem to be easing, I run my hands over her shoulders, and barely register that her tears have soaked through my shirt. Pushing a strand of her hair away from her face, I cup her cheeks and dry away the tears as she takes in deep, hiccuped breaths.
“Talk to me, Meghan,” I plead. My heart is breaking for her from the pain etched across her beautiful face. After a pause that makes me think she won’t tell me, she opens her mouth to respond.
“She’s… gone… S–she had pneumonia…” she breathes out, h er voice cracking and her face scrunching in pain at the words, as if it physically hurts her to voice them.
“Who’s gone?” I whisper, my hands smoothing up and down her arms before moving down to grasp her thighs.
She roughly wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand before pulling in a deep breath and looking away over my shoulder at a picture on the wall.
“My-my mom. She… s-she… di-died.” She breaks down just getting the words out and I don’t need her to say anymore. “Cooper,” she wails before burying her face into my shoulder.
I can’t even imagine what she’s going through, but I want to take all the pain away for her. I just have no clue how to ease a loss like that.
My hold on her tightens as I pull her closer to me, and do the only thing I can. I hold her until her sobs ease again, my mind running through the support I can provide.
“When do you leave?” I ask after a while, knowing she needs to be with her father—if I remember correctly, her parents live in California.
“Tomorrow morning,” she replies with a hiccup.
“Okay. I’ll stay with you tonight,” I murmur into her hair, taking control.
My words cause her to pull back, her eyes scanning my face before she averts her gaze and speaks.
“You don’t have to… I know I’m a mess right now and you didn’t agree to any of this.” She motions to her rumpled state before continuing. “It wasn’t part of the ru les and we… we’re supposed to only be fun. And this isn’t fun.”
When she goes to move out of my lap, I grab her thighs and hold her in place before tipping her chin up so she can see that I mean my next words.
“As far as I’m concerned, the rules have gone out of the window.
You don’t get a say in whether I stay or go right now.
I’m going to take care of you and then make sure you get to the airport on time tomorrow.
It might have started as some fun for you, but it was never that for me. You can rely on me, Meghan. Okay?”
She only nods in response, but I’m not sure she fully understands the weight of my words. I'm certain she doesn’t know yet that I’d slay her demons and that comforting her in her time of need is what I want to do.