Page 13 of Love Story
When they reached her car, Andi turned and stared at him. “I can’t do this again, Cody.” Tears began to fall down her face. “Goodbye.”
As she drove away, Cody knew he should’ve felt hopeless about the situation with Andi. But that day he remembered something Andi’s dad had told him once. They were talking about two characters in a movie and Keith had said something that had stayed with Cody.
“The opposite of love is never hate,” he had told Cody. “Hate cares too much. The opposite of love is apathy. People who don’t care at all. That’s the opposite of love.”
Before running into Andi at the coffee shop that day, Cody had worried that she didn’t care about him. That she was apathetic and had moved on, determined to forget him. But that wasn’t true. Andi still cared.
Her tears were proof.
And for that single reason, the next day Cody called her. He didn’t expect her to answer, but he had to try. The phone rang three times, and just before Cody hung up, he heard her voice. “Why are you calling?” She sounded tired and maybe a little afraid.
“Because.” He closed his eyes, begging God for a chance. “I still love you, Andi.”
The memory froze there.
Cody was almost home from his run and he needed to get cleaned up. He had promised his mom he would stop by tonight after dinner. Maybe she would help him understand why a single player’s comment had set him back like this.
“Come on, Riley, boy.” He and the dog went inside. Cody poured fresh water in the dog’s bowl and took a shower.
An hour later he walked through the door of his mother’s small house a few miles away. She met him just inside and they hugged. “So good to see you, Cody. I thank God every time.”
Cody smiled. “Me, too, Mom.” He grinned at her. “Mmm. Chocolate chip cookies?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I missed baking for you all those years when you were growing up.” She led the way into the kitchen. “I won’t miss it again.”
Cody’s mom had spent most of Cody’s childhood in prison for dealing drugs. But she’d been out for several years now. She was a cashier at Costco during the day and at night she attended a number of Bible studies. His mom once said, “I’m as addicted to God as I once was to drugs. Only with Him I can never overdose and no one’s going to throw me into prison.”
Their lives were proof that God alone could heal a person’s addictions. No matter the struggle. His mother’s drugs and Cody’s alcoholism. Both things of the past now.
They sat at the table with a plate of cookies and coffee. Cody ate one practically whole. “Mmmm. Still the best, Mom.”
She beamed. “Whatever you don’t eat you have to take with you. I sure don’t need them around here!”
After a few minutes, the conversation drifted to Oaks Christian and Cody’s football team. Whether it was his lack of enthusiasm about the upcoming season or something in his voice, his mom picked up on it.
She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
Cody tried to feign innocence. “What’s what?”
“Something’s wrong.” She leaned back in her chair. “What’s bothering you?”
He didn’t want to trouble her, didn’t want her worrying about him. But he did want her opinion. “One of my players said something the other day. It got me thinking.” Cody paused. Then he told her about the boy’s comment and how he’d been wondering about Andi ever since. He narrowed his eyes. “I guess I don’t really know what happened after we got back together. Why we couldn’t make it work.”
For a long time his mother said nothing. Then she gave Cody a patient look. “She was right to leave. You were distracted, Son. You didn’t treat her like the gift she is.”
His heart sank to a new low. He’d been afraid she’d say this. “I loved her. I don’t know why I was like that. I mean... I really don’t know why.”
Again his mom watched him, taking her time. “Was it Bailey?” She hesitated. “I always wanted to ask you. Ever since Andi broke things off this last time.”
“Absolutely not.” It was a question Cody had asked himself. Whether Bailey Flanigan was somehow at the center of how he had acted, how he hadn’t cherished Andi. But every time his heart exonerated him. “No, Mom... It wasn’t that. I’ll always care for Bailey. I remember what it felt like to be in love with her. But those feelings changed.”
“Hmmm.” His mom gave a slight nod. “So what was it? Why didn’t you treat her right?”
“It’s complicated.” He sighed. “And now... well, now I guess I’m upset because we didn’t get closure... not like we should have. But she’s finished with me. She won’t return my texts. It’s completely over.”
“And you really don’t know why?” She raised her brow.
“I think I know. ThePTSDcame back. Every nightmare made me more closed off to her... to everyone.” He would always be upset with himself for how he’d handled that. “I should’ve told her.”
