I wrinkle my nose. “Blech. You drank the Kool-Aid.”
Suzanne pulls me along by the sleeve of my sweater. “Oh ye of little faith.”
I plaster a pleasant smile on my face as we approach a group of people standing outside the open front doors. One of them is Coop, looking handsome in a dark gray suit.
He sees me coming and does a double take. “Megan. What a surprise.”
“Hi, Coop. I’m here under duress.” I shoot a look at Suzanne, who’s stopped beside me. “This one seems overly concerned about the state of my soul, so here I am.”
Coop looks at Suzanne. In one swift glance, he takes in her tight black dress, her skyscraper heels, and her brilliant smile. His cheeks go ruddy. Though she’s not showing any cleavage—for her, the dress is actually demure—the woman oozes sex appeal.
That evidently isn’t lost on Coop.
He clears his throat and squints up at the cloudless sky. “Well, that’s great,” he says, voice rough. “We’re always glad to welcome new folks.”
I wonder if I can take Coop aside for a moment to ask him about Theo, but my thoughts are derailed when Suzanne puts her hand on Coop’s arm.
“I’m so sorry to hear about you and Christine,” she says softly.
Coop shifts his weight from one foot to the other, scrunching up his face as he turns his gaze from the sky to his shoes. “Yep. Thanks.”
Oh, boy. This doesn’t sound good. And Coop is squirming, which isn’t like him. I assume Christine is his wife, and I’m proven right when the conversation continues.
“How are the kids handling it?”
“They’re good kids,” he says gruffly, running a hand over his unruly blond beard. “They’ll be fine. They’re living with their mother until we can figure out a custody agreement.”
“Please let me know if I can help in any way. You know I’m here for you, Coop.”
She’s not trying to be provocative, but his face flushes a deeper shade of red at those words, like a teenage boy with a crush.
“Should we go inside?” I say into the awkward pause.
“Yes, service is about to start.”
Suzanne turns away, but Coop stops me from following her.
“Megan, can I talk to you? It’ll only take a sec.”
My heart flutters. I know what he wants to talk to me about. “Sure. Suzanne, I’m right behind you.”
She shrugs. “Okay. I always sit in the first row, left side. Come find me when you’re done.”
The front row. I’m cursed.
Suzanne smiles a farewell smile to Coop, who nods back. Then Coop takes my elbow and steers me to the side of the entrance, a few steps away from the people streaming in the front doors. He starts the conversation with no preamble.
“Theo left.”
“I know. Suzanne told me. What’s going on?”
Coop searches my face for a moment. His normally bright blue eyes are clouded. “I was hopin’ you could tell me.”
“Me?”
His gaze steady on mine, Coop says, “Theo was stable before you moved here. Fucked up, but stable. Then one rainy night last month, he pounds on my door, out of his mind. I’ve never seen him so agitated. He needed to get drunk, he said. He didn’t trust himself to be alone, but he had to get drunk. He had to forget. When I asked him what he had to forget, he said not what. Who.”
Goose bumps pimple my arms. My heart leaps into my throat.
“I’ve never seen a man so tormented,” Coop continues, his voice low. “And I was in Afghanistan with the corps. I saw a lot of guys lose their shit. People tryin’ to kill you for too long can make your brain crack. But this…this was different. This scared me, Megan, and I don’t scare easily.”
My mouth is dry. My hands are sweaty. There are people all around us, talking and laughing as they walk into church, but all I can see is Coop’s face. All I can hear are his words, underscored by the roar of my heartbeat.
“So we got drunk. Eventually, he passed out. Slept on my couch. Like a dead man, he never moved once. I sat up and watched him because I was afraid if he woke up alone, he might do somethin’ stupid. Next day, he wouldn’t communicate. Wouldn’t eat. He sat on my sofa with his head in his hands for hours. I thought I was gonna have to call a doctor. Then he gets up all of a sudden at seven o’clock and leaves. Just takes off, no explanation. I send him a text, where you goin’? No answer. Few hours later, he’s back, in worse shape than the night before. Goes into my kitchen and heads straight for the liquor cabinet. Drinks a bottle of Jack in one go.
“That can kill a man, Megan. But I let him do it because I knew if I got in his way, it would get ugly. He doesn’t normally have a temper, but he was as close to snappin’ as a man can get without goin’ over the edge. He passed out again. Next mornin’, he left without a word.