"I know," Cody interrupts, his voice muffled against my shoulder. "I know. It's okay. You couldn't have known. And you were just trying to help."
I feel him take a deep breath before he continues, "It's just... Talking about her makes me the kind of person I don't want to be. Someone who's cold and distant and downright mean. And I hate that I can't control it."
His admission breaks my heart. I tighten my hold on him, wishing I could somehow absorb some of his pain. I've never seen Cody this vulnerable, and it both terrifies and moves me. I want to say something, anything, to make it better, but I know there are no words that can erase this kind of hurt. So I just hold him, letting my presence speak louder than any words could.
"I'm so sorry, Cody," I say softly. "I had no idea.” I repeat, because I’m not sure what else to say.
He nods, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. "Nobody does. I've never told anyone here. It's easier to be the carefree ski instructor than the guy who killed his fiancée."
"You didn't kill her," I say firmly, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. "It was an accident."
Cody's eyes snap to mine, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in them. "How can you say that? You don't even know what happened."
"I know you," I say simply. "And I know you'd never intentionally hurt anyone, let alone someone you loved."
He swallows hard, and I see a glimmer of tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away. When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse. "I don't know how to move forward."
I reach out, hesitating for a moment before placing my hand on his. "You start by letting people in. By allowing yourself to be cared for. You're not alone, Cody."
He looks at our hands, then back at me. The vulnerability in his eyes is heart-wrenching, but there's strength there too – the strength of a man who's carried this burden alone for far too long.
"Thank you," he says quietly.
I nod, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. As I resume cleaning his wounds, my mind is racing.How long has he been carrying this pain? How did he manage to hide it so well?But not once do I question the man in front of me. If anything, my respect for him has grown tenfold.
We sit in comfortable silence as I finish tending to his injuries. There's so much more to say, so much to process, but for now, this is enough. He's let me in, and I silently vow to prove to him that he's not alone – not anymore.
After Cody's shower,we've both had time to cool off. He emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a t-shirt that clings to his still-moist skin. I can't help but stare, momentarily distracted by the way the fabric outlines his muscular chest and abs.
His words from earlier echo in my mind: "Nobody cares about me." The pain in his voice when he said it still haunts me. I know I need to address this, to make him understand how wrong he is.
"Cody," I start, my voice softer than I intended. He turns to me, his eyebrows raised in question. I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts.
"You can't be serious about what you said earlier. About nobody caring." I stand up, moving closer to him. "Cody, respectfully, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You are so loved. Do you not see it?"
His eyes meet mine, a mix of confusion and hope swirling in their depths.
"Your family aside—me aside—you have so much worth," I continue, my words gaining momentum. "You pass kids in the hallway, and they high-five you. The staff adores you. You are the kindest, most genuine person in this entire building."
I gesture to his bruised knuckles, my voice softening. "I mean, for God's sake, look at you! You got into a fight. Forme. And I haven't even done anything to deserve it. The empathy and compassion you have is so far beyond me."
Cody's breathing has quickened, his chest rising and falling visibly beneath his damp shirt. I try not to let it distract me as I finish my speech.
"I think you're incredible. No, you'rebeyondincredible. You're extraordinary."
His eyes linger on mine, widening slightly. For a moment, he seems at a loss for words, genuinely taken aback by my outburst. Then, without warning, he steps forward and pulls me into a tight embrace. I can feel the dampness of his shirt against my cheek, but I don't care.
"Thank you," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. The sincerity in his voice makes my heart skip a beat.
We stay like that for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms. Then, just as the intensity of the moment threatens to overwhelm us, Cody pulls back slightly. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face.
"Well," he says, his voice low and playful, "if I'm so extraordinary, maybe you should show me just how much you appreciate me."
His eyebrows waggle suggestively, breaking the tension with his characteristic humor. I can't help but laugh, even as a shiver of anticipation runs down my spine.
"I can think of a few ways you could do that," he adds with a wink.
And just like that, the Cody I know is back - grateful, yes, but also cheeky, confident, and undeniably sexy. Suddenly, I can't think of anything I want more than to take him up on his suggestion.
