Best I Ever Had

Her eyes volley between mine and the light like she’s watching a tennis match. “Cooper, go.”

“No.”

She glances over her shoulder, but with no other car behind us to pressure me to go, she knows we’re staying. “What do you want me to say? You want me to say, come on back, Cooper, all is in the past?”

“Can’t you? Will you never forgive me?”

“It’s not about forgiveness. Honestly.” Her shoulders lose momentum and fall as she sighs. “I already forgave you because there’s nothing to forgive.”

A rush of confusion rolls through me as I try to reconcile the words so they make sense. “What are you saying?”

She’s hesitant, but then her hand returns to mine. “I’m saying that nothing you did led to my mom’s death.” She wipes at the tears I didn’t notice had filled her eyes. “He would have killed her anyway.”

“But—”

“If I blamed you, I’d have to blame myself for wearing those shorts. You see how none of it makes sense. Me wearing shorts doesn’t make someone kill another person.” She takes her hand away again, and I let her, though I want to hold tight until we get through this. “You hitting his truck or him getting a ticket doesn’t force his hand and make him do what he did.”

“He was going to do it anyway.”

Her gaze falls to her lap, and her fingers fidget together. “Don’t you see, Cooper? We could have worked this out back then.” When her eyes find mine, I see the devastation of what could have been. “We could have still been together and fought through this.”

I check the rearview mirror again. The only cars are beside us. Finally, the universe is on our side. “I can’t change the decisions I made or how you were treated behind my back. We were both abandoned in a sense, but if I could, if I could go back and change everything, I would for a second chance.”

“Not everything.”

“Not Reed.” I grin just thinking about him. And then she smiles too. I take a heavy breath in the lighter moment, but it’s only a momentary reprieve. “There are so many regrets weighing us down that the only remedy is to be open to the possibility.”

The light turns red, but this time, a car is waiting behind us. Fuck. I say, “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels something still between us? That I’m not alone thinking this might not be such a bad idea?”

Looking out the window, she bites on her lower lip and shakes her head. “We don’t make sense. We never did, Cooper. It wasn’t a lack of love that tore us apart.”

“It was a lack of trust.” The light turns green, and I drive this time.

Silence is a copilot as we drive the rest of the way. It’s not the comfortable silence we usually sit in. This one was full of tension and unresolved feelings being exchanged. I can only imagine the thoughts going through her head. She must hate me.

I back into the driveway, and she gets out before I return the car to the garage.

Story isn’t flashy. She’s not the bragging type either. She’s true to herself and honest with everyone else. I see the look on her face, the wall that’s gone up around her as I trek up the driveway to the sidewalk, and I fucking hate that I’m the cause of it being there. As soon as I reach her, I hold up the keys. “Thanks.”

“Keep them. They were always yours.” I’m discovering we were always each other’s, even when we weren’t.

We stare at each other, neither making a rushed move to get away. It’s tempting to pocket the keys and come take her and Reed for a ride sometime, but I give them back to her. “It’s your car. I’ll make sure to get you the paperwork, so everything is legal and on the up-and-up.” When she doesn’t take them, I add, “You never did answer my question.”

The garage door begins to roll down, catching my attention. When I turn back, she’s heading for the front steps. I would have walked her to the door anyway, but I also don’t want Lila kicking my ass. She finally stops midway, and says, “I don’t have the luxury to make a misstep.”

“And that’s what I’d be? A misstep?”

The hold on her bag tightens, and she elevates her chin just enough to notice. “You’re Reed’s father, Cooper, and that’s more important than what I feel.”

“So you do feel something for me?”

“I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

I’ll take that. I’ll take that door opening, and one day, she might open it all the way. I nod, feeling we made progress in a good direction. “It was a good day.”

She grins. “The best.”

I start down the steps, pulling my phone out to call a cab. A car drives by, and I look up at her. She’s opening the door but stops and turns back. When our eyes meet again, she asks, “Want to come in?”