Best I Ever Had

I can’t forgive him.

Surviving means protecting myself and now my baby. The complications are too vast to think rationally, so I put off dealing with it at all. I will . . . one day when I’m in a better place.

After calling in sick from work all week and lying in bed all day, Saturday rolls around. It’s time to face life again. Cooper made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me. He could spy on me last Saturday night but couldn’t come up to talk to me. I know he wasn’t even planning to until I forced the issue and got in that car. What was he thinking drinking himself into oblivion and leaving the doors unlocked?

It’s like he wanted to get robbed or worse.

But I can’t make his problems mine. I have too many of my own. I can’t let those problems skew my moral compass. I grew up without a dad. It’s not ideal for this baby to tie me to a man who has damaged me, but that can’t keep me from doing the right thing and telling him.

I can do this alone. I may not make much money, but one day, I will. I’m a survivor, though, and my baby will never need Haywood money.

I pack supplies in a bowl for the day—snacks and bottles of water, fresh fruit, and a pair of flannel pajama pants for the drive home if I end up traveling to his parents’ Haywood home. The bowl just in case I get sick.

Fingers crossed I won’t need to make that long trip, but I’m not sure I’ll feel much better if I find out he’s been across campus from me this entire time either.

Plugging in my phone, I then shift into gear, still not used to driving a sports car or something this decked out. I’m still wondering why he hasn’t come to retrieve his car—his baby. Okay, fine, he doesn’t want to see me, but so much so that it comes at the expense of his car?

I take the long way around campus, doing breathing exercises to regulate my speeding heartbeat. It’s not good for me to be in a constant state of distress. But if I think the baby making me ill when I eat is rough, it holds nothing on this elevator ascent.

The door opens, and I step out, the Darth Vader March kicking in. Cooper and I had a good laugh the first time, but the humor this time is lost in translation to what we’ve become, and my concern for my future overshadows the past laughs. With the distance from then to now, I look back, wondering if we were the bad guys all along. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for not getting our happy ending.

Did I hold him too tightly?

Love him too hard?

He didn’t even fight for me, or us, to be together. He let me leave, and then he left right after. What could I have done to Cooper Haywood to make him disappear without a trace from my life?

Standing in front of his door, I take one more breath and then knock. Just like the last time, I don’t hear music or voices from inside the apartment. I don’t hear anything at all, which brings a sense of dread for where he could be filling my chest.

Too impatient to wait, I knock again. And again. And then I’m banging on the door, begging him to open it.

A door down the hall clicks open, and a girl with octagon-shaped glasses pokes her head out. Giving me a dirty look, she says, “He’s not home. He’s not been there all week. I think he went home for the break.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance and then pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Geez. I don’t keep track of the man, but I can hear his music and TV all the way in my apartment because he plays it so loud.” The door closes and, as if to make a point, slams.

It’s probably not wise to spend my time riddling through our demise when he’s already made up his mind. And I should follow his lead. But, at least, I now know he’s not been here and that allows me to figure out my next step.

Another visit to Haywood. Oh joy . . . I start bracing myself now.

It’s not until I’ve been in the car for two hours and see a detour sign to the city that I start to wonder if maybe he went there instead. Fool’s gold to take that route. It would be an impossible mission to find him in a city of eight million. I couldn’t tell someone what hotel we stayed in, much less where his parents lived. Staying the course to Haywood is the only option I’ve been given.