Chapter 33
COOPER
I pull up to Mom and Steve’s sprawling Highland Park mansion—a seven-thousand-square-foot estate on four pristine acres, just minutes from Lake Michigan. It’s beautiful, the kind of house that could be in a magazine, but all I feel as I sit idling in the driveway is dread. This conversation is going to suck.
Steve’s my stepdad. He’s wealthy, treats my mom well, and has been around since I was eighteen. But we’re not close. Same with my mom. We don’t fight anymore, but I avoid her as much as possible. I’m not a great daughter, no matter what my dad says about me living here to “be close to her.” The truth is, Chicago isn’t about her—it’s about me feeling stuck. Trapped with Brad for the past five years.
I haven’t been here since Thanksgiving, and even then, I hardly talked to anyone. My mom calls every week, and I’ve answered exactly once.
I sigh, gripping the steering wheel. I’m such an asshole.
I know I harbor resentment toward my mom, which is messed up when I think about it. I’m closer to my dad—the one who cheated, lied, and broke our family. But my mom? I blame her for putting up with his shit. For not setting the bar higher—for not showing me and my sister what we should want in a relationship. I’ve held on to that blame for so long, but maybe it’s time to let some of it go.
What am I even going to say? “Hey, mom, sorry I haven’t talked to you in over a month. Can I live here for a few weeks? ”
I groan, rubbing my forehead in frustration, then turn off the car and head up the long driveway to the porch.
God, I don’t even know if she’s home. It’s Thursday, and Ryan told me to take the day off or work from home, so here I am.
I knock, my stomach twisting with unease. A few moments later, her smiling face appears in the doorway. “Hey, Coop. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Mom.”
She pulls me into a hug with so much vigor that my instinct is to pull away—it’s too much right now.
“Ah, what a pleasant surprise.” She steps back, studying me. “Is everything okay? I haven’t heard from you in weeks… This is so unlike you.”
I force a half-smile. “Yeah, Mom. I’m fine. Just wanted to talk, if that’s okay?”
Her brows knit with concern. “Of course, sweetie. Come on in.”
I follow her into the kitchen, spacious enough to make my apartment look like a closet—well, what used to be my apartment.
“Is Steve here?” I ask, grasping for anything to fill the silence.
“No, he’s in Toronto for work. He’ll be back tomorrow. Do you want something to drink? Sparkling water? Wine?” she offers, like I’m some guest from out of town. If we were close, she wouldn’t need to ask. I’d have helped myself, walked in without knocking—moved around this kitchen like it was my own. But I honestly don’t even know which cupboard holds the glasses; there are dozens of them.
“Sure,” I say hesitantly. “I’ll take a sparkling water.” Because, Jesus, who wants wine at ten in the morning?
She grabs a Pellegrino from the fridge and gestures toward the massive kitchen table—a setup fit for a family of twelve, illuminated by an elaborate chandelier. “Take a seat, honey. Make yourself at home.”
We both sit, me on one side, her on the other. I grip the water bottle, the condensation already wetting my hands. My gaze settles on the bubbles as they rise and pop, my mind drifting to last night. Brad’s threats. His cruel words. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to refocus.
“What’s going on, Cooper? You never visit unless you have to.” Her voice is soft, gentle—motherly—full of concern. I truly don’t know why she hasn’t written me off. I would’ve a long time ago.
I stare at the table, afraid she’ll see right through me. Even though we’re distant, she still has that motherly intuition everyone talks about.
My eyes well up.
Shit.
“Coop, honey.” Her hand reaches across the table, covering mine. “What is it?”
I force myself to meet her gaze, and the dam breaks. Tears spill over before I can stop them, and a sob rips from my chest. My hands fly to my face, but it’s too late. My mom rushes to my side.
Dammit.
She pulls me into her arms, rocking gently like I’m a child again. “Shh,” she soothes, her voice a soft echo in the dining room.
Guttural sobs wrack my body as she rubs my back.
She’s a saint.
She holds me for what feels like forever until the storm inside me finally starts to settle. I take a deep breath, sitting up and wiping at my face.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t apologize, sweetie. I’m your mom. As much as I hate seeing you like this, I love being able to comfort you… I wish you’d let me more often.” She pauses, her eyes full of concern. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I focus on my fingers, pushing at my cuticles. “I broke up with Brad,” I whisper, unable to make eye contact.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry… Did something happen?”
I glance at her briefly, a scoff slipping out before I can stop it. “Yeah, something happened. He’s an asshole.”
Her gaze burns into the side of my face. I don’t know what she’s thinking—I’ve never known what my mom thinks of Brad. She’s never said anything, just quietly supported whatever I decided.
“Is it for good this time? You’ve broken up a few times before…” Her voice trails off.
“It’s for good this time,” I say firmly, finally meeting her gaze. “I need somewhere to live until I find my own place. And I was hoping…”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “You don’t even have to ask. You know you can stay here anytime you want.”
I force a smile. “Thanks. I won’t be here much, but I need a place to keep my things.”
Her brows furrow again, concern etched on her face. “Where will you be?”
I exhale. “I’m… sort of seeing someone.”
Her expression shifts from confusion to doubt. “So soon?”
I sigh, annoyed. “It’s not like that, Mom. We work together. I’ve known him a long time.”
“Did you have an affair?”
“Ugh!” I groan, throwing my hands up. “Are you really going to lecture me about affairs?” My tone comes out sharper than I intended, but I can’t help it.
She looks taken aback, clearly offended. “You know what I went through with your father. I’d hate to think you’d ever do something like that.”
I laugh bitterly, the frustration spilling over. “Are you serious, Mom? What about me? What about Brad cheating on me for five fucking years?”
She flinches, and I can’t tell if it’s from the information or the delivery—probably both.
“Cooper, please don’t use that word in my house—it’s not necessary.” She rubs her temples, her tone weary. “I don’t want to fight with you. And I don’t want to make you feel guilty.” She takes a sip of her water, calm and collected, as I gape at her. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“Then why don’t you ask me if I’m happy instead of judging me and assuming the worst, like you always do?”
She exhales, her frustration mirroring mine. “Are you happy, honey?”
“No.” My voice trembles. “No, I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy since I was fourteen.” The words hang heavy in the air, and my chest tightens. “But when I’m with Ryan? I feel… glimpses of happiness. It’s the first time in my life that I think maybe I could be happy. He’s like nothing I’ve ever had and everything I could ever hope for.” My voice cracks, tears threatening again. I soften, willing her to understand. “I didn’t cheat on Brad… but I… crossed some lines. But only because I felt so trapped.”
My mom’s silent for a moment, and I brave her gaze, expecting judgment. But all I see is concern.
“I never liked Brad,” she says softly, her voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t want to push you away by saying it, but I saw through his crap from the beginning. I’m just worried this Ryan guy might be the same. You know, getting involved with you while you were engaged—it’s not a good sign. That worries me.” She frowns. “Your picker’s broken, Cooper. Always has been. And I blame myself for that—for not showing you what a healthy relationship looks like.” She pauses, sipping her water. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.”
Her words hit me in waves, stirring up a tangle of emotions: anger, relief, understanding, compassion, love. Maybe Mom’s right to worry. My “picker” has always been broken, and a part of me still can’t shake the nagging doubt that Ryan’s too good to be true. But I don’t want to ruin this by letting my doubts take over me.
“If you knew about Brad,” I say bitterly, “why didn’t you ever talk to me about it? Why would you just sit there and let me suffer in silence?”
My mom sighs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Oh, Coop. I mentioned something a long time ago, when you were first dating.” She shakes her head. “You haven’t listened to me since you were twelve, and you weren’t exactly receptive to it. And hey, I get it—I’ve been there. But instead of destroying our relationship trying to get you to see what was in front of you, like many of my friends did to me, I chose to support you from a distance.”
“Destroy our relationship? What relationship? We’ve never had one, Mom,” I snap, frustration spilling over. And shit, I vaguely remember her making a comment about Brad in the beginning, but hell, that was five years ago—I was barely twenty-three. She’s right. I didn’t listen. I never have.
“Not because I haven’t wanted one,” she says softly, her voice cracking just enough to make my heart ache.
A fresh flood of tears streams down my face. “I’m sorry, Mom. God, I’m the worst. I’ve been so mad at you, all this time. I blamed you for everything.” My voice falters, and I shake my head as the weight of my own stupidity crashes down on me.
She hugs me fiercely. “It’s alright. All I’ve ever wanted is this. For you to come back to me, to forgive me.”
I nod, pulling back. “Why did you stay with dad all those years?”
She shrugs. “I was scared. I didn’t want to be a single mom, raising two girls on my own. I didn’t want to get a job or worry about how we’d pay the bills.”
“Was Dad mean to you?” I ask, even though part of me doesn’t want to know.
“Not in the way you mean. He lied and cheated. That’s not exactly nice, but no, he wasn’t cruel. Your father’s a decent man, all in all—he’s just a terrible husband.” She laughs softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “But he loves you girls. He always paid child support and alimony, and he never gave me a hard time after the divorce.”
She pauses, concern softening her features. “Was Brad mean to you?”
I nod, swallowing hard. The words stuck in my throat, but I force them out. “Yeah. He was pretty fucking mean.”
Her eyes widen, and I wince. “Sorry,” I mumble. I really need to learn to filter better.
But then it all hits me again, and the emotion bursts out of me, loud and ugly. “He broke Grandma’s bird,” I sob, burying my face in my hands. My shoulders shake, and the tears flow uncontrollably.
My mom scoots closer, rubbing my back gently, murmuring softly, “Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. Let it out.” She takes a deep breath, her voice steady but full of anger. “I’m so sorry. He had to know what that bird meant to you.”
“He did,” I choke out, my voice breaking with emotion. “He knew.”
“Then he’s an asshole,” she says, the venom in her words startling but oddly comforting. She holds me until the sobs taper off, the ache in my chest easing just a little.
“Mom?” I ask softly, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?”
“Can we be friends?” My voice wavers, barely above a whisper.
Her arms tighten around me. “I would like that very much.”
I sit up, wiping my face with the back of my hand, feeling lighter—like some invisible barrier between us has finally been lifted.
“Why don’t you tell me about Ryan?”
“He’s nothing like Brad. He’s the opposite of anyone I’ve ever been with—one of the good ones. He’s smart, kind, and actually invested in me.” I can’t help the small grin that creeps onto my face. “And he’s so hot. Just wait until you see him. I have to pinch myself sometimes to believe he’s real.”
She laughs softly. “He sounds wonderful. Why don’t you bring him over for dinner sometime?”
I smile, a gooey warmth spreading through me. “Yeah, I think that’d be great. Not too soon though—I don’t want to scare him off.”
My mom chuckles. “Do you think Steve and I would scare him off?”
“No. I just… I want to take things slow. I know I’ll spend a lot of time with him, but I’m also looking for my own place. I need to do this on my own for a bit—figure my life out. I’ve relied so much on Brad for everything, I feel like I’ve lost my independence. And I know Ryan will want me to succeed on my own.”
“Well, he really does sound great. I’m excited to meet him.”
“Thanks,” I say with a soft smile. “I think you’ll like him.”
We spend the next hour catching up—talking about Steve, Ryan, work, Casey—and it feels good. Really good. The anger and resentment dissipate, like we’re finally starting to bridge the gap between us.
I leave my mom’s house feeling lighter—hopeful, even. I promised to call more and let her know when I’ll be staying with them. Sliding into the car, I pull out my phone to check for any missed calls or texts.
A slew of notifications awaits me: one from Casey, two from Ryan, and, of course, several from Brad.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, exasperated.
Casey: Tried to call you. Need over the phone details about Ryan. No more of this text BS. Need to hear your voice.
I laugh to myself, shaking my head. I’d texted Casey yesterday about the sex with Ryan, but the day had been so hectic I hadn’t had a chance to call her back.
Ryan: Hope you still like me—just emailed HR. We’re officially dating at work.
Relief floods through me. Thank God we don’t have to worry about that anymore.
Ryan: Got us dinner reservations for tomorrow night. Dress code: whatever you feel sexy in. Underwear optional (smirk emoji)
A smile tugs at my lips. Why is he so damn cute? He’s taking me out tomorrow night. Our first official date.
Cooper: Oh, panties will definitely be left behind. Just hope you save room for dessert… I bought whipped cream. (winky face emoji)
My gaze shifts to Brad’s messages, and I’m tempted to delete them without reading. But I need to text him anyway—to let him know what time I’ll be over on Saturday to get my things. Leo and Vivian don’t come home until next weekend, so my threat to bring Leo won’t pan out. Not that Brad needs to know that. And I’ll be bringing Ryan with me.
Brad: Coop, I’m sorry. I was out of line last night. I don’t even know what came over me.
Brad: You know I’d never hurt you on purpose.
Brad: I’ll fix the bird, Coop. I saved all the pieces.
I scoff, shaking my head. Disbelief doesn’t even cover it—not with Brad. His behavior is exactly what I expect.
Does he really think trying to salvage my grandmother’s bird will erase what he did?
Brad: I hope you won’t start telling people lies about me.
Brad: I still love you, you know. I don’t want to fight. Just call me, please.
I stare at the screen, incredulous. He doesn’t want to fight? Is he delusional? I start typing.
Cooper: There’s nothing to fight about. We’re done. I’ll be by Saturday at noon with Ryan and Leo to get my things. If you don’t want things getting messy or the cops called, be gone from 12-5.
I grip the phone tight, anger erupting through me like a poison. A scream tears from my throat, raw and loud, releasing it into the empty air around me.
My nostrils flare as I take a deep breath, forcing myself to exhale slowly. My eyes drift back to my phone, catching another text from Ryan. Instantly, the tension in my body eases, replaced by a flood of relief and a small smile.
Ryan: God, I hope you’re serious. I’ll lick the entire can off your delicious body.
I grin, my mood officially salvaged. I guess my next stop is the grocery store.
I need whipped cream.