I nodded.
“It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you, and in that time I figured out my fear.”
“Being alone?” I asked.
He laughed a little. “No. Although that wasn’t fun.” He still had the same amazing smile. The one that lit up his whole face. Why couldn’t that have changed in the last few weeks? I found myself wishing he were missing a tooth or something. What was I going to say at the end of this if he asked to be friends again? I couldn’t do this. My insides were already twisting back up again.
“My fear is being with you.”
“What?”
“All this time, Abby, that’s what I’ve feared. On the beach that night a year ago, you told me you loved me and I was scared. Terrified actually. I knew how much I cared about you as a friend. But I knew that if I let myself fall in love with you, that it would be like handing you my heart to hold. I’d be so exposed. So I held on to it tight. Kept it to myself. And I thought I’d succeeded. I thought that I didn’t feel the same way about you as you did about me. But that’s just because I didn’t realize until now what love really felt like. I thought love was that first-meeting emotion. You know, the one that always fades over time. I kept trying to find my happiness there in that emotion. I’d date girls and think, yes, this is what love feels like. But I was never happy. It always felt empty. It wasn’t until you left, until you took what my happiness really was away, that I realized love was this.” His put his hand on his chest. “This deep, intense caring about someone’s well-being. About wanting that person to be okay no matter what happens to yourself. The realization that you, Abby, are already holding my heart and I’m perfectly okay with that. I love you.”
I knew Cooper really well. We’d been best friends for nearly four years. So I looked for the signs that he might be lying—avoiding my gaze, fidgeting, biting his lip. But they weren’t there. His gaze was steady, as was his stance. “I think you’re confusing love with missing me,” I said.
His head started shaking back and forth before I’d even finished my sentence. “I knew you’d think that. I knew you’d think I was saying all this because I miss you. Or because I just want you back in my life any way I can have you.”
“Yes. That’s what I think.” My arms were still crossed over my chest and my heart was crashing into them, asking me why I was making him question his declaration.
“I do miss you, Abby. Ugh. I miss you with everything in me.” He grabbed hold of the front of his shirt in his fist. “And I do want you back in my life, but I do love you, with my entire soul, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize that.”
I swallowed hard. My whole face felt tingly and numb.
And then I heard Elliot’s voice before I saw him. “Abby, did you see the huge tree growing up through the roof in the . . .” He trailed off when he turned the corner and saw Cooper. “Oh. Hey, Cooper.” Then Elliot’s eyes met mine and seemed to ask if I was okay.
I wasn’t sure what I was, but it was definitely not okay. Cooper had just told me he loved me and my heart was racing and my mind was racing and I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know if I should grab hold of him and never let go or run the other way because he might change his mind and destroy me for good.
Cooper’s smile fell as he looked between Elliot and me. “I’m too late?” he asked. “I’m too late.” His face was painted with pain. “What can I do? A duel?” He met my eyes with a sad smirk, sharing our inside joke.
“No, Cooper,” I said.
“I have to walk away, don’t I? Let you go this time?”
I didn’t speak, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I wanted him to feel the torture of that thought for just a moment. Cooper took the three remaining steps between us and crushed me into a hug that eradicated the rest of my anger. “I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he whispered. Then he left.
“He finally figured it out?” Elliot asked.
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”
“I know.”
I ran.
I ran through the maze of the underground garden and up the stairs. The sun blinded me for a moment when I made it outside, breathless. When my vision cleared, I saw Cooper’s car in the parking lot. I ran to it, but he wasn’t inside. I turned a full circle, but he wasn’t anywhere, not up the street walking it off, not at the small gift shop where the admission tickets were sold. Nowhere.
I turned and practically slid back down the stairs underground again. When I reached the bottom, Cooper came stumbling out of one of the side rooms. I skidded to a halt.
“This place is like a maze. It doesn’t let a guy trying to save a little dignity just leave.” Tears were in his eyes, and my heart couldn’t handle the sight of that.
I pointed over my shoulder up the stairs. “I made it all the way to the parking lot, but you weren’t there. Just your car.”
“It needs to be washed.”
I laughed a little. “Your car?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about that earlier today. How it needed to be washed.”
“Are we really talking about your car?”
“I’m trying to hold it together here, Abby.”
I nodded toward where I’d left Elliot. “I’m not. We’re not.”
“What?” he asked, using his palm to wipe at his eyes.
My eyes stung in sympathy. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. Well, there was that one time you accidentally ate that really hot pepper.”
He choked out a laugh. “Accidentally? You put it in my burger.”
“I know. It was funny.”
“For you,” he said.
“I love you too. I’ve never stopped,” I finally spit out.
“What?”
“I love you, Cooper. I never stopped.”
He wiped at his eyes again. “You’re not just saying that because you feel bad for me, right?”
I laughed. “You do look pretty pathetic.”
He nodded to the side. “Come here, I want to show you something.”
He walked ahead of me, back the way we’d come from, and reached back for my hand. I placed mine in his like I had so many times before and, like I’d thought so many times before, it felt perfect there.
“I found it while I was trying to flee,” he said.
He led me to a portion of the garden I hadn’t seen yet. The room was darker than the others. Small holes had been drilled into the ceiling, letting in pinpricks of light like a blanket of stars. When my gaze left the ceiling I found Cooper staring at me.
“I’ve always thought you were amazing,” he said. Our hands were still linked and he tugged, pulling me closer to him. His eyes still shone with emotion. “And smart and funny and beautiful.”
My heart jumped to my throat. After months of anticipation, now I was the one who was terrified. His free hand ran a path down my jaw. He kissed my cheek, lingering there. He smelled like Cooper—cherry ChapStick and mint gum and oranges and vanilla. His arm slowly wrapped around my waist, like he thought I might break. Then he hugged me close. His heart beat against my chest, fast and hard. “Is it weird yet?” he asked.