I wasn’t feeling up to adding another person to my list.
“I’ll come to your house to see you after you’re out of here too,” I kept going, barely holding on to that thread inside of me that decided not to be hurt. “I’ll have to keep you up to date on the shop gossip, huh?”
Mr. Cooper’s gaze searched mine, and after a moment, he tipped his chin down just enough for it to count as him agreeing. But whether or not it had anything to do with him agreeing he needed to hear what was going on at the shop was a different story. We were both well aware of the giant elephant in the room looming over us.There are some things I want to tell you… some things I should have told you before…
Because right then—and I had a feeling that it wasn’t just going to be in that moment or the next, or the one after that—I knew I wouldn’t care enough to get the full story.
My heart honestly just didn’t give a crap anymore.
My heart had been broken, stomped on, and moved to dust just yesterday, and like the other times the same thing had happened, I knew I could regrow it. That was my other superpower. I would make myself always come back from the dumps.
Because that was exactly where Rip had left me to wallow.
I had told him once I didn’t sulk, at least not for long, and I wasn’t about to start for him. It was easier to forget and ignore than it was to hold on to things that hurt.
Before Mr. Cooper or I got a chance to say another word, there had been a knock at the door before it opened a crack and then fully. I knew instantly who was coming in before I actually saw the stained work boots and the white compression shirt that was just long enough to go over the stained blue jeans the new hospital room visitor was wearing.
I knew it was Ripley.
And that was why I slipped my hand out of Mr. Cooper’s and bent over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I should get going. Call me if either one of you need anything. I’m sure my boss won’t have a problem with me sneaking out of the shop for a little bit if I have to,” I said, trying to sound as chipper as freaking possible.
Mr. Cooper’s head was already tilted in the direction of the door when he said, “Thank you, little moon,” in the same tone he spoke to me every time Rip was around. With a little less affection. With a little more distance.
I had always thought he just didn’t want to make him mad or make him feel like he was playing favorites, but I could see now that it was for other reasons that I wasn’t totally sure I understood. To not make him jealous? To not rub in our relationship and how well we got along?
I didn’t know, and it honestly wasn’t my business to find out. Not anymore. Not ever from the beginning apparently.
“You too, Lydia,” I told her before bending over to give her a kiss on the cheek too, watching as her eyes settled on the man I could hear walking into the room.
Her eyes shifted to me, but her smile was as brittle and tired as her nod. “Thank you, honey. I’ll give you a call soon.”
I nodded and took a step back. “Rest, Mr. C. I’ll come check on you tomorrow.”
I got a “drive safe” and a “take care” from them just as I turned to walk out, but I couldn’t miss the strain in their voices as they said it.
Sure enough, by that time, a figure a head taller than me and a lot wider, stopped right at my side.
I wanted to pretend he wasn’t there, but I wouldn’t.
It wasn’t his fault I had started to believe he genuinely gave a shit about me. I could handle his moods at work. I could handle his secrecy. But making me feel dumb, pushing me away, those things I couldn’t.
It was my fault for thinking things had been changing between us. For being desperate and clingy. It was my fault.
Instead, I looked right up at my other boss and said, pretty freaking calmly and coolly, “Hi, Mr. Ripley.”
He had already been looking down at me. His face, that mask I never knew what to think of. It was that same mask that I tried to replicate, just for a moment, because that was how long I stood there before saying “Bye” over my shoulder to all three of them.
My chest hurt only a little as I left the hospital, and like so many other things, I squashed it down into an even smaller hurt and threw it away.
I was loved, and I had everything. I wasn’t happythen, but I would be again.
My chest had only continued hurting just a little every time I saw Rip at the shop.
The very first day, three days after our conversation in the waiting room, I’d had to find him to ask about some vague details on an order. He’d been on the main shop floor, pulling out upholstery inside a 1970-ish Ford Bronco. I had only stood in my room for maybe one minute trying to pump myself up to talk to him the way I envisioned I could and would in my head.
Like he hadn’t hurt my feelings.
Like he hadn’t been mean and cold and cruel.
