Chapter 12
COOPER
The car ride home is filled with awkward silence. My arms are crossed as I stare out the window, fuming.
Brad finally breaks the silence. “You can’t be mad at me for pointing out the obvious, baby. All I said was the truth.”
“The truth? How would you know what that is, Brad? You don’t even know Ryan.”
He looks over at me, one brow cocked. “And you do?” He scoffs. “Just how well do you know him, Cooper?”
I let out a sigh of disgust. “You just never know when to quit, do you?”
“Well, I’m sorry that I’m not comfortable with my gorgeous girlfriend hanging out every night with a guy who clearly wants to fuck her… let alone going on a trip together.”
“Oh my God! We aren’t alone. And it doesn’t matter, Brad—it’s for work. I’m not trying to sleep with Ryan.”
“Has he ever made a pass at you?”
“What? No!” I answer too quickly, knowing it’s a gray area.
“And have you ever wanted him to?”
“Oh… my God.” I shake my head in frustration. “I can’t… I can’t keep talking about this. It’s so fucking stupid.”
“Come on, Coop. You don’t think there’s any validity to my feelings? I mean, God, I worry about you cheating on me all the time. I mean, look at you… What guy wouldn’t want to sleep with you?”
I scoff. “I don’t know, Brad. Why didn’t you ask yourself that same question when you were fucking Jessica?” Dammit, I wish I could take that one back. But it’s out now, and I brace myself for Brad’s retaliation.
He raises his voice. “There it is. You can’t not go there, can you? Always throwing the past in my face. And you think I don’t have a valid reason to be concerned when you’re still this angry with me?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He takes a breath, steadying himself. “I just mean… I’m sure you’d love to get back at me.” He glances at me, his voice softer now. “Do you ever think about that? About getting back at me?”
“Honestly?” I say, my patience wearing thin. “Yes. Yes, I have definitely thought about getting back at you.” The silence stretches, so I keep talking just to fill the discomfort. “I did, actually.” Fuck . I swallow, staring down at my hands. Why did I just say that?
He furrows his brows, confused. “What do you mean you did?”
I muster up the strength to look at him. “In Newport… back in March, when you and I broke up. After you…” I can’t say it. “Anyway, I slept with someone—a random guy I met at a bar—because I was so mad at you, so hurt…. I was so angry, Brad.” I take a shaky breath and exhale slowly, releasing the tension that’s been there for months. God, that’s a weight off my chest.
I watch him, uncertain of what this will look like or where it’s going to go. I’ve never been the one in this seat—the one admitting things, holding back truths, confessing secrets. My heart races. Brad’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrow, his grip hardening on the steering wheel.
“You fucking slept with someone nine months ago?” He looks over at me, his tone sharp. “And you’re just now telling me? Who the fuck was it?”
I shrug, letting out a defeated sigh. “I don’t know, Brad. Just some guy. I don’t even remember his name. I’d had some drinks, and I was hurt—wanted to move on, get over you. So yeah, I slept with someone else.” I pause, gathering the courage to say what I’ve wanted to for so long. “Just like you have. And honestly, Brad, I’m willing to bet there were more than just the three women I know about.”
He exhales loudly. “That’s all there was, Cooper. I swear it… Why are you telling me this now?”
“I don’t know. I guess it felt shitty keeping this from you.” I shut my eyes, praying the tears that threaten stay contained. “I don’t fully trust you, Brad. I haven’t for a while now, and apparently you don’t trust me… I just feel like we’ve backed ourselves into a corner, and I don’t know where we go from here.” I pause, letting it sink in, fixing my gaze on the side of his face. It hurts to be here, admitting all of this out loud. “If we don’t have trust… does anything else even matter?”
I don’t know where this truth serum came from. I never intended to tell Brad about Newport. Obviously, I’m not going to mention it was Ryan, but at least I’m coming partly clean.
We stop at a red light. He looks at me with sorrow in his eyes, and brings my hand to his lips. “You’re right.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, baby.” His eyes close for a moment. “God, this fucking stings. I can’t believe you slept with someone else.” He shakes his head, rubbing his forehead. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m in shock. I don’t even know how to process this right now. It’s killing me.” He glances at me again. “This is all my fault. I know I’ve been a dick, and I deserve this—I do—but… shit, it hurts.”
I’m stunned into silence. Brad has never—and I mean never—taken the blame for anything this big. Ever. The sincerity in his voice tugs at my heartstrings… but only a little. Maybe it’s because I know how this goes. He’s apologized before, but it’s always followed by something worse—a cutting remark, a backhanded compliment, a veiled threat.
I stay quiet, afraid that if I speak, I’ll start apologizing, like I always do. And I don’t want to apologize. I’m not sorry that I slept with Ryan, that I lied about it, or that I’m still partly lying. God, what does that say about me?
Then it hits me: Brad brought this on himself—when he chose to cheat the first time, and the second and third and God, I don’t even know how many times. He’s pushed me away. He’s broken our trust… He broke us.
He slams his hand against the steering wheel, teeth clenched. “Fuck,” he says, his voice raw. “I can’t get the image of you with someone else out of my mind. I need to know who it was, Cooper. I need a name, what he looked like, where you did it, what he did to you. I need to know. This is going to drive me crazy. You’ve got to give me something,” he pleads, his voice trembling.
I sigh. “No, Brad. You don’t need to know.” I look at him intently as we approach our building. “It was one time. We had broken up. And it hasn’t happened again. I know it hurts. Trust me, I know it hurts,” I say, biting back tears.
He just shakes his head, letting out a bitter scoff. I turn to look out the window as we pull into the parking garage. I should feel awful seeing him like this, broken, but I don’t. Not completely. After all the times he’s hurt me, lied to me, how could I?
We don’t speak as we ride the elevator, and suddenly, The Sound of Silence takes on a whole new meaning. My head fills with the noise of quiet: the hum of the elevator, our breathing, the faint buzz of electricity… my heartbeat. It’s like I can hear everything, even though there’s nothing to listen to.
We get inside, and I go straight to our room to ready myself for bed, desperate to be alone.
Brad comes into the closet as I’m hanging up my dress. “Did he come inside you? I need to know.”
I glare at him. “No. God. He wore a condom.” I take a steadying breath. “Don’t do this to yourself. I’ve been down this road, and it’s not a fun one. Just let it go. It happened a long time ago… Would you rather have not known?”
“Maybe. I don’t like that you kept it from me… but I don’t like knowing either.”
I give him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, well… It sucks to find out the person you love had sex with someone else. It really sucks, doesn’t it?” I’m torn between being empathetic and a complete bitch. I don’t want to hurt Brad, but part of me savors that I’ve hit him where it hurts… where he’s hit me.
“Did he lick your pussy?”
“God, Brad,” I recoil in disgust. “I’m not talking about this anymore. You don’t need to know the details.”
“Yes. I do, baby. I need to know. I need to know if his mouth was between your legs.”
“Stop.” I scowl at him, anger bubbling up inside of me.
He steps toward me, grabbing my hands, pleading, almost desperate. “Baby, please. I’ve been so supportive, I’ve been trying so hard—you owe me this much. Please. Did he eat you out? Because that… I can’t handle that. I can’t deal with it.”
My patience snaps. I’ve gone from empathy to fury in a matter of seconds. “Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me how many pussies you’ve eaten out?” I yank my hands from his grip, crossing my arms and raising my voice. “ You don’t get to question me!”
I storm out of the closet, heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I just want to go to bed and end this. But he follows me.
“Coop. Don’t walk away—I need to know this.”
I squeeze toothpaste onto my brush, scrubbing my teeth with a force that can’t be healthy for my gums. He steps up behind me, resting his forehead on my shoulder, his hands gripping my hips. “Please, baby,” he pleads softly. “Please. Tell me.”
I spit and rinse, then glance at him in the mirror. “God, Brad. This is ridiculous.” I turn to face him. “You’re acting like a crazy person!” The words feel surreal coming out of my mouth because they’re the same words Brad’s thrown at me too many times to count. Words that have stung more than anything else. I almost laugh. Turns out, crazy isn’t a personality flaw—it’s what happens when the person you trust the most deceives you.
We stare at each other. Me, fuming, and Brad, completely lost.
He breaks the silence, defeated. “Will you at least tell me where you met him? Where you did it?”
I sigh. He’s not going to stop until I give him something. “I was at Tipsy with Casey. She left, this guy came over, and we started talking. One thing led to another, and we ended up in his hotel room.” I raise a brow. “Satisfied?”
He scoffs, giving me a hard, pointed stare. “And did you let him go down on you?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh my GOD! I’m not doing this anymore.” I turn and walk out of the bathroom. “Don’t follow me,” I say, glancing over my shoulder as he comes after me.
“Come on, Cooper. I’m not going to stop until you tell me. Just tell me. Did he go down on you?”
I’ve had it. I swing around to face him. “Yes!” I shout. “Yes, he went down on me! And it was incredible ! There. Are you happy?” But I don’t stop—I keep going. I’m so damn angry at him for pushing me, and now all I want to do is drag this out—torture him. “It was the best damn oral I’ve ever had… and I think about it all the time . I came over and over. His tongue…”
Before I can finish, Brad backs me up against the wall, his one hand gripping my waist while the other cups the back of my neck, pulling me into a deep, heated kiss. He bites at my bottom lip, just enough to make it possessive, but not enough to hurt.
“Don’t fucking say that, Cooper. You don’t mean it.”
I shove at his chest. “Yes, I do.” I feel the tears threatening, and there’s nothing I hate more than to let him see me cry—it’s like giving him the winning hand in a poker game.
He shakes his head. “No, you don’t, baby.” His mouth is on mine again, more tentative this time. He kisses along my jaw and neck, up to my ear, and whispers, “I don’t want anyone else touching you… ever.” His hand slides down into the front of my shorts, cupping me, and I gasp. “This is mine.” He pulls back, meeting my gaze. His fingers stroke me over the fabric. His possessiveness pissing me off more.
I laugh, breathless, shoving at his chest with everything I have. “Fuck you!” My voice cracks, and the tears I’ve been holding back burst free, unstoppable. His eyes flash with something dark—something I don’t recognize—and for a second, I have no idea what he’ll do next.
“Fuck me? How about I fuck you, instead?” he snarls. He spins me around, backing me against the opposite wall with a force that’s just a little too hard. His hand grips my waist tighter, his fingers digging into my skin while his thumb swipes across my lips, his hand gripping my jaw. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s jarring enough to make me freeze. Panic rises in my throat—he’s strong.
He leans in again, his mouth crushing against mine. I try to shove him away, but he grabs my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head. For the first time, fear flickers through me —real fear. Brad’s never been like this before, never pushed it this far.
And yet… I kiss him back. It’s easier. It’s safer. This is what we do. We fight, we yell, we make up. And somewhere in the chaos, I convince myself it’s okay. And for the first time, I’m scared—scared to push back.
I take his tongue into my mouth, kissing him with everything I have left to give. He releases my wrists as he feels me kissing him back, and I wrap my arms around his neck. His hands slide under my shirt, pulling it over my head. God, the pent-up tension—the frustration, the hurt, and now the confusion from finding out Ryan has a wife—it all churns inside me. This feels like the only way to let the storm out before it tears me apart.
He tugs my shorts down, and I step out of them, reaching for the button on his pants. We push and pull, shove and yank, until we end up on the bed, tangled in a mess of incredibly heated, sweaty sex. It’s raw. It’s emotional. And right now, it’s the only thing that feels somewhat real between us.
But it’s not love—far from it. It’s almost a hateful vengeance, a desperate grasp for something tangible in this disaster we’ve built together. Maybe that’s why I give in every time—because it’s the only thing that grounds me in this relationship. And if I’m going to be stuck with him, I need something in return to make this bearable.
It’s fucked.
It’s broken—I’m broken.
But right now, it’s all I have. It’s the only thing that gets me through each day.