Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
cheyenne
Three days after the worst Christmas ever, I went over to Griffin and Blair’s apartment for coffee.
I hadn’t told Blair anything about the Christmas Eve breakup because I didn’t want to interrupt her time with her family or cause her to spend time worrying about me on her trip.
But they’d flown in last night, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
I’d spent the last seventy-two hours crying in my bedroom, ignoring my mom’s attempts to talk, and wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.
“Good morning,” Blair said with a smile, answering my knock in ivory flannel pajamas that were embroidered with Mrs. Dempsey on the top’s pocket. Then she saw my face, and her smile faded. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No,” I said, tearing up. “I need caffeine and talk therapy and maybe some kind of muffin or pastry with either like some icing on it or some crumble topping.”
She brought me inside and gave me a hug. “You’ve come to the right place.”
I ditched my snow boots, followed her up the stairs and plunked myself on a stool at their kitchen island. “Where’s Griff?”
“He ran over to the gym this morning.” She poured me a cup of coffee and set an oversized muffin on a plate in front of me. “There. Now you have caffeine and crumble topping. So let’s get to the therapy. What happened?”
“Cole and I broke up,” I said, tears leaking from my eyes.
“What? Oh no!” She grabbed a box of tissues and placed it in front of me before coming around the island to sit on the stool next to mine. Rubbing my arm, she waited for me to mop my cheeks. “Tell me what happened. Did you ask him about the nightmares?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t even get a chance.”
“So what was it?”
Taking a shuddering breath, I told her the whole story. By the end of it, she was dabbing her eyes with a tissue too. “Oh, no. Oh Cole, what are you doing?”
“He thinks he’s being a man, but he’s just being a coward,” I said irritably. “I get why, but it still sucks.”
“It does,” she agreed. “You sort of can’t fault him, but you want to.”
“I don’t fault him for being scared and not knowing how to handle it—I just wish he’d admit it, you know? He’s so damn determined to just tough it out.”
“Men,” Blair muttered. “They’re such fixers. And he’s looking to paint the front door when the wood is rotten.”
“Exactly.” I sniffed again. Took a sip of coffee. “I think even Mariah’s therapist knew something was up, because he mentioned her name during our argument. I wonder if she suggested he talk to someone professional.”
“Maybe,” Blair said. “It certainly sounds like he needs it.”
I exhaled, closing my eyes. “I was kind of afraid you were going to tell me I was being too demanding. That I shouldn’t have walked out when all he asked for was more time before we move in together.”
“Not at all! You’re only demanding one thing—honesty. Okay two things—honesty and a willingness to conquer those demons.”
“I thought love conquered all,” I said, tears welling again. “But it doesn’t.”
“Oh, honey.” She slid off her stool and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I really thought this was it,” I sobbed. “I thought for once I didn’t pick the unavailable person. I thought I wouldn’t end up disappointed. I thought finally my feelings for Cole made sense. I thought he’d chosen me.”
“He did, sweetie. He really did.” She rubbed my back. “And I know that he loves you and he’s going to be sorry.”
From the bottom of the stairwell, we heard the door open and close.
“Don’t tell him,” I whispered.
“Okay, but he’s going to know something is up,” she whispered back.
Quickly, I dried my eyes and took another sip of coffee.
A moment later, Griffin appeared at the top of the steps, looking sweaty and disheveled in sweatpants and a hoodie. “Hey.”
“Morning,” I said without meeting his eyes.
“Cole here?” he asked, going over to the fridge.
“No.”
Griffin took the orange juice out, turned around, and leaned back against the counter. “What’s wrong?”
I decided there was no point in lying. My brother wasn’t an idiot. “Cole and I broke up.”
His eyebrows peaked. “Seriously?”
“Yes. On Christmas Eve.”
“Damn.” He took a drink right from the carton. “What happened?”
“Griffin!” Blair took a glass from the cupboard and handed it to him. “What have I told you about that? It grosses me out.”
“Why? You don’t even drink O.J.”
“Because we are not Neanderthals without proper drinkware. Use the glass, please.”
Griffin rolled his eyes but poured juice from the carton into the glass. “So what happened with Cole? I thought everything was good.”
“It was . . . but it also wasn’t, and he never told me.”
“Huh?”
I took a deep breath. “I think Cole is scared of being happy with me because of what happened to him before. He doesn’t believe happiness can last.”
Griffin took a drink and nodded thoughtfully. “I could see that about him.”
“And I think after he asked me to move in with him, it hit him really hard. But even before that—as soon as he realized how happy Mariah was about the whole situation—he was kind of freaking out internally, but wouldn’t admit it.
I could tell something was off with him, but he just kept saying he was fine. ”
“Sounds like Cole.”
It struck me that Griffin was Cole’s best friend. He knew him better than anyone. “Has Cole ever mentioned anything to you about, like, panic attacks?”
“No. But I do know that he had pretty bad nightmares as a kid.”
Blair and I exchanged a look. “He’s having them again,” I said. “Only he refused to admit it. And then in a weird twist, he tried to tell me Mariah was having nightmares.” I told him about my conversations with my mother and Mariah, and then my argument with Cole.
Griffin’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Jesus. You gotta feel bad for him.”
“I do,” I said helplessly, my eyes tearing up again. “But I can’t help him if he won’t even talk to me.”
“Has Cole ever seen a therapist?” Blair asked Griffin. “Like maybe after Trisha died?”
“I don’t remember,” he said. “I just remember him being really focused on Mariah. From that point on, all he cared about was her. I think he swept a lot of shit under the rug.”
I nodded. “I think so too. But it was always there, and now that it’s uncovered, he needs to deal with it. Except he won’t.”
“He won’t talk to a therapist?” Griffin asked.
“Nope. He said therapy is for women and kids.”
Blair made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. “Why do men think they have to be so tough all the time? It’s okay to show your emotions.”
“He did show them,” I said, grabbing another tissue. “And he talked about them. He told me he loved me. Was he lying?”
“No,” Griffin said firmly. “That I know for sure. I’ve never seen him so crazy about someone. And he doesn’t bullshit people like that. He never has. If he told you he loved you, he meant it.”
“Really?” I asked, hope rising in my heart.
He nodded. “Yeah. Like at Thanksgiving, and at the wedding, and at dinner here that night . . . it was obvious the guy was messed up.”
“To be clear, that’s supposed to be a compliment,” Blair said, rolling her eyes.
“I asked him about you on Thanksgiving, and he tried to deny something was going on, but Cole is a really shitty liar.” Griffin shook his head. “His upper lip does, like, this weird, twitchy thing, and his eyes dart all over the place. And he sweats.”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “I’ve seen it!”
“Sometimes his hands twitch too, so he folds his arms and sticks his hands in his armpits. It’s fucking ridiculous. He’s such a Boy Scout.”
“Oh my God, he totally did that during our argument.”
Blair laughed sympathetically. “Poor Cole.”
I looked at Griffin, needing to hear it again. “Do you really think he was happy with me?”
Griffin shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, dudes don’t go around saying shit like ‘I can’t believe how happy I am’”—he spoke in a high-pitched voice with an exaggerated version of Blair’s Tennessee lilt—“but if I had to be the judge, I’d say he was, and right now he’s probably miserable.”
“Could you maybe check on him?” I asked, clasping my hands together. “I can’t stop worrying about him.”
“Why don’t you reach out to him? Maybe he’s changed his mind.”
“I can’t, Griffin.” My eyes filled again. “It will hurt too much. Every time I see him or Mariah outside with the new dog, I melt down.”
My brother exhaled heavily. “Okay. I’ll give him a call later.”
“Thank you.”
Griffin put his glass in the sink and disappeared down the hall to their bedroom.
“Now how about eating a little something?” Blair pushed my plate closer to me.
Giving in, I took a bite of the muffin. “Thanks. It’s really good. Way better than a garden salad.”
She laughed. “No one wants raw vegetables during an emotional crisis.”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Finish your muffin, and then we’ll go do something fun. Get our nails done or something. Go shopping. Buy something cute for New Year’s Eve.”
“Ugh, don’t even talk about it. For once, I was going to get to kiss the man of my dreams at midnight. Instead I’ll be home with my mother, wearing sweatpants, watching the ball drop while eating raw cookie dough and drinking wine out of a box.”
“No way, sister. Griffin and I decided we’re going to have a few people over here, and you’ll be here in a sequin miniskirt with a glass of bubbly in your hand at midnight. Guys will be knocking each other over to be the one you kiss at midnight.”
“A sequin miniskirt?” I looked at her sideways. “You’re crazy.”
“I know.” She tipped her head onto my shoulder. “But at least I made you laugh.”