I grab a tissue from the box on the coffee table and blow my nose—again. Then I add the tissue to the discard pile with the others. Soon, I’ll have an entire Kleenex village filled with salty tears and snot, a painful reminder of everything I’ve lost.
At least you still have your pride.
I’d managed to stave off the tears until after kickoff when I’d bolted from the stadium. The thought of sitting in the stands with one hundred thousand screaming Wildcat fans was unthinkable. There was no way I could paste on a smile and cheer for Cooper.
Not after he’d shattered me into a million tiny pieces.
I barely made it through the Senior Day presentation, his words playing on a loop in my brain.
Don’t touch me.
Each word had been sharper than the last, piercing my chest like a blade.
Even worse was the way he’d compared himself to his father.
Just the memory has my stomach churning with nausea.
The front door swings open and Haley stalks in, brushing snow from her coat and hair. I’d been so focused on the game, I hadn’t noticed the tiny flakes swirling outside the living room window. I glance back at the tv and sure enough, snow is falling on Wildcat Stadium. The sports anchor is talking through the final results of the game as she waits for the MVPs to join her on the sideline.
No doubt Cooper will be tagged for an interview.
He played in incredible game.
Never let it be said that Cooper DeLaurentis doesn’t perform under pressure.
“Spill,” Haley demands, kicking off her sneakers and tossing her coat on a chair. Her gaze lowers to the coffee table in front of me, and she lifts a finger. “Hold that thought. This calls for wine. Lots and lots of wine.”
I sigh. “We’re out.”
The first thing I’d done when I got home was change into sweats. The second was search the pantry for wine.
Haley grins. “I keep an emergency bottle of red in my closet, along with a bag of Dove chocolate for moments such as this.”
Thank God.
It’s too cold for ice cream, but I could definitely do wine and chocolate.
She returns a few minutes later with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a bag of dark chocolate that she tosses into my lap.
“What happened?” she asks, plopping down next to me on the couch.
She pours the wine generously and hands me the first glass. I take a long sip, letting the bold flavor coat my mouth as I savor the notes of black cherry and vanilla.
Then I unload the whole awful story.
By the time I’m done rehashing the scene at the stadium, there’s a fresh wave of tears ready to stake their claim in the Kleenex village and my glass is empty. I reach for the wine bottle, but Haley beats me to it.
“Let me get this straight,” she says, filling my glass nearly to the rim. “He broke up with you, in front of all of his friends, and you still took the field with him and smiled while thousands of rabid fans cheered for his dumb ass?”
A laugh-sob bursts from my lips and wine sloshes over the rim of my glass, soaking my fingers. “I couldn’t let him go out there alone.”
Not after I’d promised to be at his side, and certainly not after his parents left.
Haley shoots me a dubious look. One that says I shouldn’t give a damn about his feelings since he pulverized mine.
“He was hurt and angry.” I blink back tears and use a napkin to sop up the wine on my fingers. “His own mother abandoned him. Can you even imagine what that feels like?”
I sure as hell can’t.
