He felt guilty that she was in this place because of him, because of what he’d started with me on Jane’s couch last Sunday.
“You didn’t frighten me, sweetie. You’re only visiting. Why would that frighten me?”
My mom’s hand came to my knee. She squeezed gently, and I got the message—don’t maintain the topic of conversation. Mom had advised me that Jane might not even remember the encounter, and it seemed that was the case.
Sadly, that wouldn’t absolve Cooper or I of the guilt we felt.
Uncertain as to how to handle this new side of a drugged-up Jane, I decided to just watch them talk and leave them to it because my presence wasn’t required. As I watched, I felt nothing short of amazed as my mother maintained a patter of constant chatter that had Jane sinking into a calm state.
Mom’s voice lulled her until she relaxed totally. Her smiles seemed less loopy. Her eyes less hectic, even.
By the time we left, I felt a little ‘lulled’ myself. I yawned when we left the facility and was surprised to see Cooper parked outside—we’d agreed to meet later on. He waved his hand out the window at us, and I turned to mom. “Is it okay if I drive back with him?”
She hugged me. “Of course it is. You go and have fun, sweetie.” She pulled back to stare at me with a gimlet eye. “We haven’t had chance to talk about what’s going on with you and him.”
I’d managed to avoid that particular conversation on the ride over here by discussing how guilty I felt about Jane’s incarceration. Blinking at her, I gave her an evasive smile. “Oh, we’ll catch up soon I’m sure.”
Mom snorted, aware of my antics, then kissed my cheek. “Speak later?”
“Yeah. I’ll call you.”
She nodded, then waving at Cooper, headed for the other end of the lot where she’d parked her car.
As I strode over to Coop’s vehicle, a welter of emotions flooded me.
God, it was good to see him.
In fact, screw that. It was wonderful to see him.
Sure, his past was complicated. Convoluted, even. And maybe it changed him in ways I’d never totally be able to understand, but with the truth now out there, I felt closer to him. Closer than anyone had been to him since his mother’s death.
It was hard not to feel like he saw me as precious. Too precious to lose, too precious not to protect. Which put me in an unusual position, because I didn’t need him to protect me like his mother had needed him, but I didn’t want to lose him either.
Love was definitely a dilemma, I’d come to realize. Making you think one thing, but feel another. It was a riddle I’d never understand, but because that love was for Cooper, and that he felt that way for me too, made it okay. I didn’t have to understand it for it to be real.
As I approached, he climbed out of the car and moved to sit on the fender. I stepped close to him, standing between his slightly splayed legs, and pressed my hands to his chest.
Resting my head against his shoulder, I murmured, “Hey.”
He kissed the side of my head as his hands came up to hold my waist. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“This looks like nothing,” he said, amused, and one of his hands shifted to cup the back of my head. “Yeah, nothing.”
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I laughed a little, then shifted so I could look at him. “I’m just feeling a little out of it.”
He jerked his chin at the institute behind me; a place that made anonymous and bland seem generous when it came to the style choices of the architect behind the building’s esthetics. “Must be something in the water.”
I slapped his leg. “Don’t even joke about that.”
He smirked, then it died. “How is she?”
“Loopy,” I admitted, turning back a little to look at the institute. It wasn’t like I could see Jane staring at us out of a window, but I looked nonetheless. “New meds, I think. Mom handled her like a charm. I don’t see her as much as mom though. So I guess she’s used to it?”
He winced. “I feel bad.”