Had I changed so much that he’d sought love in the arms of another woman? A stupid thought. Just my inner guilt trying to justify the fact that we were about to break into the basement and invade Erik’s privacy.
I walked to the bedroom and opened the door. Nothing glamorous, just a queen bed with navy sheets and a light blue comforter. Matching light wood furniture and lace drapes over the window. My side table had lotion and magazines, while Erik’s had books on science. When I’d ask him about the things he read, he’d usually just brush it off, saying he didn’t want to bore me.
But the thing was, it didn’t bore me. Science and intellectual conversations excited me. But Erik wouldn’t have it. We could talk about fiction books and gardens and cooking. But never anything that involved finding out too much about science or other heavy subjects.
Funny, I never thought to question him.
Just like you didn’t question him about the basement.
The dresser had old scratches and lighter patches of wood from long wear and tear. Erik said we got it secondhand at a thrift shop. He planned on smoothing it out and staining it once we finished the gazebo. I always impeccably cleaned the long, broad mirror, hating the sight of smudges. Now though, I wished for them, so they would blemish my reflection. Between the fear and the guilt, I didn’t want to look at myself.
The conch shell sat on my side, next to a picture of me and Erik. He had his arms wrapped around me from behind, our cheeks pressed together, and a cheesy smile on both our faces as I cuddled against him.
Cooper must have noticed my hesitancy. He reached in front of me, blocking the picture, and grabbed the conch shell. It was large, and pink with tinges of white. The kind of shell you’re supposed to be able to hear the ocean in, no matter where you are. Only instead of the ocean, there was the distinct sound of something tapping as he shook it.
He tilted the conch shell and a set of keys rushed out into hand. “These?”
I nodded. “That’s every spare key we have for the house.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “All right. Let’s have a look.”
“Doesn’t this feel wrong to you?” Stepping back, I sat on the bed. “I’m a married woman with a strange man in my house.”
Cooper walked over and sat next to me. “This has got to be extremely hard, and scary, and confusing, and probably a lot of other emotions all rolled up into it.”
“Putting it mildly,” I said with a half-hearted laugh.
He smirked and ran fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I imagine it is. But we’ve come this far. Don’t you want to know the truth?”
“What if we’re wrong? What if Erik is keeping the past from me to keep me safe?”
“As a psychiatrist, I can promise you that if that is the case, he’s going about it all wrong. It’s not healthy to do that to a person.” He crossed his arms over his chests. “And it sets off all my warning bells.”
“But what if he’s got good intentions?”
“Then he needs someone to show him the right way to help you.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s say you’re right. And he’s trying to protect you from the past. It’s not his past to protect you from. You have a right to know who you are and where you came from.”
I frowned. What he said was true. It’s not like I hadn’t asked before, but all the times of begging and pleading with Erik's, even just to find out about daffodils. It was tiresome.
“Don’t you want to know?” Cooper dipped his head a bit to catch my gaze.
His elbow brushed mine. Without even thinking about it, I leaned against him. I just needed some comfort. Something to keep me grounded in the here and now.
Cooper hesitated and then put his arm around me. Warmth drifted from him, and I wished I could cocoon myself. He kept me close, slightly rocking, as if that would make things better.
Funny thing. It did.
Just like Erik’s touch did.
I pulled away and sniffled. “Sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“It’s okay.” He smiled. The right side of his lip hung slightly lower than his left.
An adorably crooked smile that made my heart skip a beat.
“Sometimes we all need a hug.”
The only hug I’d ever had before came from Erik’s arms. They weren’t as thick as Coopers. Not as much muscle, though Erik was fit. Just in a more slender way. Cooper had the physique of a man who frequented the gym, or was secretly some sort of covert agent doing things on the side.
I doubted it, but it was nice to imagine. Something more than a mundane life, which until a few days ago, I thought was something I lived.
Letting out a slow breath, I nodded and moved from the warmth of his embrace. Cool air brushed my skin, and I missed his touch already.
Swallowing the thick ball of emotion in my throat, I walked out of the room. Cooper followed, the keys jangling in his hand.
We walked back to the basement door. Cooper went through the keys, one by one. The fourth slid into place. My chest tightened, and I balled my hands into fists. He glanced over at me over his shoulder and then turned the key. An audible click sounded, almost loud in the quiet hallway.
“You ready?” Cooper asked.
No.
“Yes.” I squared my shoulders. “Let’s see what’s down there.”
8
Cooper opened the door and flipped the switch at the top of the stairs. Bright ceiling lights radiated through the room.
In books and movies, the basement stairs always creaked from rotted wood, and spiderwebs hung in the corners. Cold slab made up the concrete floors and a dim light would hang overhead. But not in my basement—well, in Erik’s basement, I should say, because this room didn’t belong to the comfort of the house upstairs. And maybe
