Page 93 of Collateral Damage
“I’ll have your bedroom ready, sweetheart.”
I pause for a minute. “Are we going to bury the remains?”
“Of course. We’ll do it soon. I can’t think about that right now, though.”
We hang up, and I stay on the floor for ages, eventually finding my way onto Cooper’s bed. The blue comforter is cooling, and I find myself crying into it while I stare out the window, the cityscape outside blurring.
It feels like he died twice. I’m sure Mom will want to lay what we have of him to rest in the family plot. That will be hard. This isallso hard.
Eventually, I fall asleep, dreaming of his funeral last summer. I wake up sometime later, and the sky outside has turned to ink. For a brief second, I don’t know where I am.
Panicked, I sit up, searching for my phone.
“Hey,” Cooper’s calm voice breaks the darkness. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
The memories of the day rush back. I have no tears left to give. I’m completely drained. Before that phone call, I was worried about Gloria and Benton having drama on the show—that feels so trivial now.
“Do you have my phone?” I croak.
Cooper reaches through the darkness, handing it over. “Lie down.”
My body instantly obeys. Cooper joins me, pulling me against him while I open my phone.
Benton called me hours ago, but I slept right through it. I hope he didn’t walk into drama.
“Sorry I broke into your bedroom,” I mumble. “It was unlocked.”
“I talked to Ethan,” he says, his breath warm on my neck. “Your mom called Arden to tell her about your dad.”
My chest tightens. “So you know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“That’s fine.” He shifts slightly, but his hold stays strong and firm. “Do you want to go home?”
I don’t want to do that either. “Can I sleep here tonight? I don’t want to move.”
“Of course. I can sleep on the couch or go up to Ethan’s place and sleep in one of their guest rooms.”
I shake my head. “Stay here. It’s nice… not being alone.”
We lie in silence for a while, and I focus on the way his breathing settles my nerves, the consistent rise and fall of his chest against my back like ocean waves.
“I’m going to Nantucket early,” I tell him. “Tomorrow. I’ll be ready to work on the show again when you guys come out next week.”
Cooper mumbles his approval and continues to hold me until my emotions settle. He kisses the back of my neck, laying a careful press of his lips on the nob at the top of my spine. It’s possibly the most comforting gesture I’ve ever felt, and it’s the last thing I think about as I finally drift away.
The next morning, I wake up, and he’s gone—another thing to widen the chasm in my chest. It’s not like we had sex, but somehow sleeping in the same bed felt more intimate than most of the sex I’ve had. I don’t think I can take any more heartache, so I refuse to let myself be bothered.
I pad to the open living and dining room, and the scent of bacon stops me.
“You’re cooking?” I practically squawk.
“Don’t look so alarmed.” He peers at me with an adorable grin. “I can cook, especially breakfast.”
Then he winks, and I melt.
