Page 51 of Coping Skills

She shook her head again. “No. It’s too much.” She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and looking him in the eye. “Thanks for letting me talk. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Standing, she gathered her things, but he caught her arm again, needing to know what she’d stopped herself from saying. “No. Tell me. What were you going to say?”

She stilled, her head down, her hand gripping the strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white. “I … I’d really like to see you again. At least be friends if you don’t want to try to be more.”

He dropped her arm, sitting back in his chair, uncertain how to respond.

Meeting his eyes, she gave him a sad smile. “See. That’s why I stopped myself. I’m asking too much, being selfish again. You deserve better. Thanks again for having coffee with me. I’ll—“ She looked away and swallowed before looking back at him. “I hope I’ll see you around.”

He watched her walk out of the coffee shop, her back straight, never looking back at him. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but his coffee was lukewarm when he picked it up again. Throwing it away, he stood, putting his coat back on, still feeling dazed from his conversation with Elena. She wanted to be friends with him. More, if he’d be okay with that. She’d cared about him all along, but been too wrapped up in her own pain to see how destructive her behavior had been.

Could he forgive her for that? And could he forgive himself for allowing it?

Coop found him sitting in their apartment in the dark. Daniel had gone home after his impromptu coffee with Elena, skipping the rest of his classes. It was only the second week of the semester, but he was so messed up in the head from her apology and the following revelations that he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. So he’d come home and sat on the couch. He’d continued to sit there, staring into space, wrestling with what he wanted and what he thought he should do until the light faded and Coop came home.

“Dude. What are you doing?” Coop dropped his backpack on the floor, flopping on the couch next to Daniel.

Daniel shook his head. “Thinking.”

“Do you need darkness for that? Or can I turn on a light?”

Daniel grunted. “No, I don’t need darkness. It was light when I sat down. I just haven’t gotten up to turn on a light.”

Getting back up, Coop found the switch on the wall, and Daniel held up a hand, blinking against the sudden brightness. Coop stared at him, arms crossed, a frown pulling at his mouth. “You been sitting here all afternoon in your coat? What the fuck, man?”

Daniel ran a hand over his face. “I talked to Elena.”

One of Coop’s eyebrows quirked up. “And? How’d that go?”

“Fuck, man.” Daniel shook his head and rubbed his face again. “She apologized. For everything.”

He glanced up to see Coop nodding like he wasn’t surprised. “Yeah. She wanted to do that back before Thanksgiving. But you wouldn’t talk to her. I’m a little surprised you actually talked to her today. Did you make her stand there in the cold on the sidewalk before you stormed off to come sit in the dark?”

Daniel’s mouth twisted, half smile and half frown at his friend’s assessment of his likely reaction. “Fuck you, man. No, for your information, we had coffee together. I let her talk and say all that she had to say.” He dropped his head back on the couch. “She’s been going to therapy. Said it’s helping.”

“Good. That’s good.”

This time Daniel smiled, just a quick flex of his lips. “That’s what I said.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“She said she wants to be friends. More, if I’m willing to go there again.”

Coop waited, but when Daniel didn’t say anything else, he hit Daniel’s foot where it was crossed over his knee. “And? What did you tell her?”

Raising his head, Daniel looked at Coop. “I didn’t really say anything. And then she said goodbye and left.”

“Dude. You’re an asshole.”

“Fuck you, Coop.” Daniel tried to sound angry, but it came out more tired. He rested his head against the back of the couch again, staring at the ceiling. He was an asshole.

Coop knocked his foot off his knee. “No. Fuck you. You’ve been in love with that girl for months, and now she’s finally in a place to give you what you’ve been wanting, and you let her walk away? You’re an asshole. If you’re too chickenshit to try again with her, then at least have the balls to tell her no when she lays it all out like that. Don’t just stare at her until she draws her own conclusions and leaves. That’s a dick move, dude. I thought you were better than that.”

“I guess you thought wrong.”

With a disgusted noise, Coop went into his bedroom. The walls were thin, and Daniel could hear him moving around and muttering to himself, but couldn’t make out any words.

Just as well. He didn’t want more of Coop’s opinion right now.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Elena’s name. He’d never deleted her number, even though he’d tried. If he could never bring himself to completely cut her out of his life, wasn’t that a sign that maybe he should give her another chance?

His thumb hovered over the screen, and he looked at the picture he’d saved with her contact info. He’d taken it on the beach in Westport, her hair blowing in the wind, her head thrown back as she laughed at something he’d said. God, he missed her. It was an ache deep in his chest that he carried with him all the time, and it hit him like a punch in the gut when he let himself look at the few pictures he had of her or when he relived their time together.

And now he could get rid of that ache. Coop was right. He was being a chickenshit asshole.

Pocketing his phone, he stood and grabbed his keys. “I gotta go, Coop. Don’t know when I’ll be back. Later.”