Livia.
Asher.
Asher is smothering me with worry and his anxiousness is washing over me in thundering, booming sprays. But I also feel his love wrap around me like a warm, comforting blanket and I need that damn blanket like a lifeline. It’s my only savior in this entire fucked-up situation, because without Asher, I would be hopelessly lost for good. I can only hope and pray he continues to be patient with me as I work to find my way out of this hole I’ve fallen through. I want to reassure him that everything will be okay, but how can I when I’m trying to understand it myself, let alone explain it?
I’m trying so hard to outrun my past, but every time I move forward, there it is again.
Blocking my path.
Holding me back.
Keeping me prisoner. Before it was just memories, but now…
Beck is alive.
He’s always been alive.
I keep replaying that moment, just a second frozen in time. I saw so much, but so little at the same time. I keep telling myself that it wasn’t really him, but I know that no amount of pretending will make it untrue. And the fact that I’ve heard from Cooper multiple times tells me it’s not a hallucination.
Beck is not dead.
Before I fainted, I saw the moment he recognized it was me. I saw sorrow turn down his handsome features. I saw regret eating him alive.
I anxiously wait, obsessively looking at my watch, my foot bouncing up and down so fast I think I’m shaking all the tables within a six-foot radius. I scan the diner for any signs that I’ve been tricked.
My heart’s racing. I don’t why I’m here, why I kept our lunch date, but I guess curiosity got the best of me. I didn’t respond to Cooper’s texts to confirm that I was coming, but I didn’t tell him I wasn’t either. I don’t even know if he’ll show. I think what I need is for him to look me in the eye and tell me he didn’t know anything about this. Because if he and Beck played me, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to trust another human being again. I don’t know how they could have, but who expects her dead ex to rise from the fucking grave either?
I sure as shit didn’t.
After I recovered from the shock, the pain set in, fresh and raw and gut-wrenching. I felt flayed to the bone, my heart sliced to ribbons all over again.
Beck’s not dead. He’s not dead, yet all this time he let me believe he was. He left me to deal with not only my physical injuries on my own, but my emotional ones, too, as well as the loss of our baby. By myself.
He abandoned me in the worst possible way anyone could.
The loom of a shadow lifts my head. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until it whooshes from my lungs at the sight of Cooper. He stands there, sympathy bleeding from his eyes and I know he can’t have known. My relief is so great, an involuntary sob breaks free. He holds out his arms. My need for human comfort can’t be denied. I stand, let him engulf me, and cry against his cold winter jacket, uncaring that we’re making a scene.
“I didn’t know, Alyse. Jesus, I swear. I didn’t know.”
Seconds, minutes, hell hours later, after my sobs subside, he smooths my hair, taking my face between his hands.
“You okay?”
I snort. “I’m nowhere near okay.”
He nods, dropping his hands. We sit and just look at each other for several moments.
“You should talk to him,” he finally says.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know what he did to me?” I spit, incensed that he would even suggest such a thing. But, of course, Beck is family, so what is he going to do? From the way he’s talked about “his cousin,” they’re very close. Hell, they opened a business together.
I’ve gotten what I came for. I believe he didn’t know about the connection between Beck and me. I stand and turn to leave when a strong hand grips my wrist.
“Alyse, please. Just hear me out.”
“Cooper, don’t. I just…I can’t,” I choke. I feel like I’m seconds away from falling into a puddle on the floor, crying myself into a pool of tears until I drown. I kept it together all day Sunday, but today, seeing Cooper, it’s a completely different ball game. He lets my arm go and I start forward, making it about ten paces until his next words stop me mid-step.
“I didn’t realize you were that Alyse.”
I slowly spin on my heels. “What do you mean ‘that Alyse’?”
“Will you sit down while I explain or do you want to invite all our new friends to join?”
I look around to see that a dozen sets of eyes are intently watching our exchange, so I huff, walk back, and sit.
“What do you mean ‘that Alyse’?” I repeat, this time getting angrier.