‘Will you come and visit me?’
I inhaled deeply, the scent of her almond and coconut shampoo as familiar to me as my own skin. ‘Probably not. But I’ll see you when you come home.’
‘Okay.’
It really wasn’t. But one day it would be.
27
Cooper
The Monday evening after the woman Cooper had thought was his wife moved out, someone buzzed the flat intercom. He’d called in sick that day at work. Sick of himself, more than anything.
Ben looked up from his laptop. ‘Expecting someone?’
Cooper shook his head, grimly. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be Emma. But the other possibilities didn’t bear thinking about.
When he looked through the spyhole, his heart plummeted to somewhere around the basement car park, before rebounding back up again and jamming in his windpipe. He opened the door before he had a chance to think about whether that was a good idea or not.
Bridget stepped inside. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
She looked about as wretched as he felt. The main difference being that she was still beautiful.
He led her into the kitchen. The grim look from Ben as he peered through the living-room door to see who it was said it all.
‘Do you want a drink?’ His voice was shaking. A dozen conflicting thoughts and feelings roared through his head.
‘No. Thank you.’ She peeped at him through her hair. Her cheeks were a soft pink, and Cooper suddenly realised that she was feeling shy. His head wanted to bundle her out of the building to where she was safe from him. His heart wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go.
‘I came here to say… well. I’m really, really sorry. For everything. For being an idiot and a despicable human being. Let alone a friend. I know that not intending to hurt anyone means nothing when you end up destroying everything anyway. But when it’s the two people I love the most in the whole world. Well, I’m so ashamed. I’m beyond devastated. I’ve made multiple, monumental mistakes. And all I can say is I’m sorry. And. Um. I don’t know what Emma or anyone else has said, or if you’ve even heard. But…’
Cooper thought his chest would explode waiting to hear whatever she said next. If it was the words he’d always hoped to hear, then it could ruin any chance of Bridget and Emma mending things. And after everything he’d done, he would sacrifice hearing those words in a heartbeat, for the sisters’ sake.
‘You might have heard that I’m not marrying Paolo. I thought it was only fair and right, given that I’m the one who caused all this mess, that I told you I ended it with him because I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t end it because, well, I wanted to be with you.’
He didn’t ask if she did want to be with him.
It didn’t matter now.
She took in a long, shaky breath, before steeling her shoulders and fixing her gaze about a foot above his head. ‘Whether I want to be with you is irrelevant. Because I can’t. Ever.’
As usual, Cooper agreed with Bridget’s conclusion 100 per cent.
It didn’t stop her taking his heart with him as she left, all the same.
* * *
Wednesday, he forced himself to go to work. As much as he deserved to end up homeless and broke again, ditching his job would be one more dishonourable item on his self-hate list, and it was already full to the max.
Bridget’s workbench was empty. Her desk cleared, locker swinging open.
It took until Friday before he could trust himself to ask someone where she’d gone.
He swallowed hard, rolled up his lab-coat sleeves and did what he’d always done without her: ploughed on, one stumbling step at a time through the darkness, and tried to be the kind of man she’d always believed him to be.
* * *
