“Hey, sis.”
I pull back, inspecting his face. He looks older than he did the last time I saw him, but that’s normal for Cooper. He seems to age years within months, his hair turning grayer at the temples, the worry lines in his forehead creasing deeper by the day. But still, Coop is one of those guys who seems to get more attractive with age. In college, my roommate had referred to him as a silver fox once when his neck started to grow patchy with salt-and-pepper stubble. For some reason, that stuck with me. It was a pretty accurate depiction, really. He looks mature, sleek, thoughtful, quiet. Like he’s seen more of the world in thirty-five years than most people have seen in their lives. I let go of his neck.
“I didn’t see you in there!” I say, louder than I intended.
“You got mobbed,” he answers, laughing, taking a final drag before dropping his cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with his foot. “How does it feel to have forty people swarm you all at once?”
I shrug. “Practice for the wedding, I guess.”
His smile wavers a bit, but he recovers quickly. We both ignore it.
“Where’s Laurel?” I ask.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances behind my shoulder, his eyes growing distant. I already know what’s coming next.
“She’s not in the picture anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “I liked her. She seemed nice.”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “She was. I liked her, too.”
We’re quiet for a while, listening to the murmur of voices inside. We both understand the complexities of forming relationships after going through what we’ve been through; we understand that, more often than not, they just don’t work out.
“So, are you excited?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of the house. “For the wedding and stuff?”
I laugh. “And stuff? You’ve got such a way with words, Coop.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I say. “And yes, I’m excited. You should give him a chance.”
Cooper looks at me, his eyes narrowing. I sway a little.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“Daniel,” I say. “I know you don’t like him.”
“What makes you say that?”
Now my eyes are the ones that narrow.
“Are we really going to do this again?”
“I like him!” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “Remind me what he does again?”
“Pharm sales.”
“Farm sales?” he scoffs. “Really? Doesn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”
“Pharmaceuticals,” I say. “With a p-h.”
Cooper laughs, digs the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and pops another one between his lips. He offers me the pack and I shake my head.
“That makes more sense,” he says. “Those shoes are a little too shiny to be spending much time around farmers.”
“Come on, Coop,” I say, crossing my arms. “This is what I’m talking about.”
“I just think it’s fast,” he says, flicking open his lighter. He lifts the flame to the cigarette and inhales. “You’ve known each other for, what—a couple months?”
“A year,” I say. “We’ve been together for a year.”
“You’ve known each other for a year.”
“And?”
“And how can you really know someone that well in a year? Have you even met his family?”
“Well, no,” I admit. “They’re not close. But come on, Coop. Are you really going to judge him by his family? You of all people should know better than that. Families suck.”
Cooper shrugs, takes another drag instead of answering. His hypocrisy is pissing me off. My brother has always had this nonchalant way of getting under my skin, burrowing deep like a scarab and eating me alive. Even worse, he acts like he’s not even trying. Like he doesn’t even realize how cutting his words are, how badly they hurt. I have the sudden urge to hurt him back.
“Look, I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Laurel, or with anyone, for that matter, but that doesn’t give you the right to be jealous,” I say. “If you’d just allow yourself to open up to people instead of being a dick all the time, you’d be surprised at what you can learn.”
Cooper is quiet, and I know I’ve gone too far. It’s the wine, I think. It’s making me unusually forward. Unusually mean. He sucks on his cigarette, hard, and exhales. I sigh.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right,” he says, walking toward the edge of the porch. He leans against the railing and crosses one leg in front of the other. “I can admit that. But the guy just threw you a surprise party, Chloe. You’re afraid of the dark. Shit, you’re afraid of everything.”
I tap my fingers against my wineglass.
“He turned off all the lights in your house and asked forty people to scream when you walked in. He scared the living piss out of you. I saw your hand fly into your purse. I know what you were going for.”
I’m quiet, embarrassed that he picked up on that.
“If he actually knew how fucking paranoid you are, do you really think he would have done that?”
“He meant well,” I say. “You know he did.”
“I’m sure he did, but that’s not the point. He doesn’t know you, Chloe. And you don’t know him.”
“Yes, he does,” I snap. “He knows me, Cooper. He just won’t let me be afraid of my own shadow all the time. And I’m grateful for that. That’s healthy.”
He sighs, sucks down the rest of his cigarette, and flicks it over the railing.
“All I’m saying is we’re different from them, Chloe. You and I are different. We’ve been through some shit.”
He gestures back to the house and I turn around, eyeing all the people inside. All the friends that have turned into family, laughing and mingling without a care in the world—and suddenly, instead of feeling the love that I had felt just minutes before, I feel a hollowness inside. Because Cooper is right. We are different.
“Does he know?” he asks gently. Quietly.
I turn around, glaring at him in the dark. I chew on the side of my cheek instead of answering.
“Chloe?”
“Yes,” I say at last. “Yes, of course he knows, Cooper. Of course I told him.”
“What have you told him?”
“Everything, okay? He knows everything.”
I watch his eyes flicker back to the house, to the muffled sounds of the party going on without us, and I’m quiet again, the inside of my cheek raw from grinding between my teeth. I think I can taste blood.
“What is it with you two?” I ask at last, the energy drained from my voice. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he says. “It’s just … I don’t know. With you being who you are and all, and our family … I just hope he’s around for the right reasons. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“The right reasons?” I snap, more loudly than I should. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Chloe, calm down.”
“No,” I say. “No, I won’t. Because what you’re telling me right now is that it can’t be possible for him to actually love me, Cooper. For him to have actually fallen for someone as fucked up as me. As damaged Chloe.”
“Oh, come on,” he says. “Stop being dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic,” I snap. “I’m just asking you to stop being selfish for once. I’m asking you to give him a chance.”
“Chloe—”
“I want you in this wedding,” I interrupt. “Really, I do. But it’s happening with or without you, Cooper. If you’re going to make me choose—”
I hear the door glide open behind me and I swing around, my eyes landing on Daniel. He’s smiling at me, though I can see his eyes darting back and forth between Cooper and me, an unspoken question lingering on his lips. I wonder how long he’s been standing there, just behind the sliding glass door. I wonder what he’s heard.
“Everything okay?” he asks, walking over to us. He winds his arm around my waist and I feel him pull me closer to him, away from Cooper.
“Yes,” I say, trying to will myself to calm down. “Yes, everything’s fine.”
“Cooper,” Daniel says, extending his free hand. “Good to see you, man.”
Cooper smiles, giving my fiancé a firm handshake in response.