Page 152 of We Redeemed the Rain

I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to. His scenario was a convoluted blend of his reality and mine. Line for line, I didn't know which one of us he was describing.

“Then she realizes your depressive episodes are so bad you can’t get out of bed, you can’t talk to her, can’t even look her in the facewhen she calls your name. She thinks you don’t love her anymore. So she packs up, takes the kids, leaves you. She’s got her bags packed, but she’s also got a shit ton of baggage now, thanks to you.”

All of my fears, spoken.

“Or, maybe she stays, but you leave. You finally pull the trigger or walk into oblivion.”

“You gotta stop, Cooper.” My voice was weaker than I meant for it to be.

“You know I’m right though.”

I sucked at the air, willing my lungs to expand.

A thread of emotions, of tears, laced his words. “We’re too broken for them, Tag.”

“I—I don’t wanna believe that.”

He huffed and quietly looked at the ground for a couple beats. He quickly swiped the back of his wrist over his face. “Yeah, well, neither do I.”

In the dark, there was a quick whip of movement as Cooper lifted the sleeve of his long t-shirt. The orange glow disappeared with his quiet grunt of pain. His shoe shifted in the gravel as he hissed a breath.

Did he just….

I clutched a hand over my stomach.Holy shit.

He rolled his sleeve down and disappeared back into the barn without a word.

I retreated to Tillie’s stall. For the second time in one night, I wept in silence.

This time for my brother.

For me.

And for all the things we might never have.

The rodeo was one night, long drive. I had to leave early.

I was going alone.

I tiptoed down the hallway, careful not to make a single sound. I didn’t want Bea to wake up and come to say goodbye. Cooper’s wordsblared in my head on repeat leaving me angry and flustered. The ground beneath my feet wobbled, and I worried that I’d find myself swept away in currents of the past.

No, I didn’t want to see her. Not like this.

As I readied the horses, a sweat broke over my brow. I wrestled with what Cooper had said, what Bea had said. One night filled my head with extremes so conflicting I felt dizzy trying to understand them both.

In a last ditch effort to find peace, I tucked my journals into my duffle bag, afraid of what would happen if I opened them but desperate enough to try anything.

All day, need built in me until I burst through the doors of the semi and plopped down in the passenger’s seat. Before I could talk myself out of it, my shaky hands reached for words. I unzipped my duffle bag and pulled out the notebooks and pen.

It was like a homecoming.

For hours, I wrestled.Can pain coexist with love?

In some ways, Cooper was right—I was too broken for Bea. Ruining her life because of my pain was my biggest fear. But then, what about love? Didn’t it have power? I’d already felt the effects of Bea’s love seeping into every starving corner of my life. I wanted to try. I wanted to learn love. I wanted to give Bea everything—the pieces of me, if she’d take them.

Even the rain worked in synchrony with the sun.

Once upon a time, I told Bea I didn’t believe in miracles. I thought they only existed for people like her. But there, writing in my journal, I realized it wasn’t true. The universe had brought Bea to me—twice. Two times her light had forged into my darkness. Two times she had reached down and grabbed my hand when I was drowning.

---