Page 50 of That One Moment

“I know!” I yell and instantly regret it. “I’m sorry. It just happened, okay? And it had nothing to do with Cooper.”

“I’m not buying the whole ‘he tripped and fell onto my dick’ excuse,” she scoffs. “These things don’t just happen. Now talk.” The line goes silent and I picture her glaring at me through the phone.

“I was trying to take care of him. I was making him breakfast.”

“Well, there's your first mistake. Continue,” she says.

“He got mad about it and then accused me of feeling guilty about….about Rachel. About moving on. Then he asked me if I think of Coop when I’m with her.”

“O-kay.” She drags out the word. “And you said?”

“Yes. Fuck, that makes me sounds like the worst person in the world. But yes, all the time okay? But not with…”

“Not with Caiden,” Sage interrupts. “And why do you think that is, Jay? If this isn’t about replacing Coop with a carbon copy of him, what is it?”

Rolling onto my stomach, I bury my face in the sheets while still holding the phone against my ear. “I don’t know.”

Sage is silent for so long, I move the phone away from my ear to check we’re still connected. When she finally speaks, her words are soft but direct. “I love you, Jay. You know I do. But Caiden has been hurt so many times before, he doesn’t need you hurting him too. I know you wouldn’t intentionally do that but, things could get messy. If you want to fix yourbrotherlyrelationship, do that. Hell, be his friend. But anything else isn’t a good idea.”

Groaning, I say, “You’re right. I know you are.” I make up my mind then and there. Something about the thought of being another person in a long line to hurt the guy makes it easier. He's said it before- he doesn't want or need me here.

“I’m going to go see him tomorrow. Tell him, I’m sorry for all of it. For the funeral and for today. I’ll tell him I hope we can be friends, that he can call me anytime he wants or needs. But then I’ll leave. I’ll go back to Devon and back to my life.” My stomach swirls uncomfortably at that entire scenario but Sage is right and this is what’s best for everyone.

“What are you going to do about Rachel?” Sage asks.

“I’ll tell her the truth. Then, maybe it’s time I went and said goodbye to Cooper for good and finally tried to actually move on. Not pretend like I’ve been doing.”

Sage hums something like agreement. “I’ll come with you, if you want.” She knows I’ve never been able to visit his grave, in the same way I know she goes once a month and leaves him flowers that she says are from me. “No one blames you for not letting go, Jay. We all loved him but no one as much as you. I’m sorry you lost him.”

My eyes well up and I nod into the sheets. My throat goes tight, making it impossible to speak.

“Come see me when you get back, okay?”

I make a grumbling noise and Sage ends the call. Hiding my head beneath the pillow, I scream and scream until my throat aches, then drag myself off the bed and into the shower.

Turning the water to scorching, I stand under it until my skin stings, turning bright red. With my head against the cool tiles and my hair dripping in front of my face, I close my eyes and picture Caiden. Allowing myself to think of what happened between us just this once.

There’d been times before - years ago - when I’d catch him looking at me, when our hands would brush or I’d be hyper aware of his presence next to me and I’d get this feeling like something minute existed in the unspoken words between us. I was so wholly devoted to Cooper, I never gave it any light. Never let it bloom into anything more than chemical reactions. Even then, it wasn’t a sexual pull, in the same way today didn’t feel entirely about sex either.

Whatever today was, felt far more intoxicating. Deeper. Meaningful. When our lips met, there was something inside of me that cried out to him. Lost in the moment - lust and anger fuelled - I wanted him more than the air in my lungs. How we got there eludes me, but perhaps kissing Caiden was the end result of a thousand smaller choices we made - a butterfly effect.

When I was thirteen, my mum explained to me that small actions, no matter how tiny, can have great impacts, and that each and every one determines the path our lives take. Mum used the example of meeting my dad. Telling me about how she was meant to drive to work but then her car wouldn’t start. She had a choice to walk or take the bus but because it was raining she opted to take the bus. On the bus that day, she sat next to a man who was also having car troubles. She’d never have met my dad - or had me - if not for her car breaking down. If you take any scenario, you can break it down into the million little paths you took to get to the here and now.

I think of this often - even more so since Cooper died. About how everything that came before led to the second he took his eyes off the road.

It’s what I’ve been wanting to tell Caiden all along. One of the reasons I tried calling him over and over again not long after the funeral. I know he blames himself, the same way I blamed him. The same way I so often blame myself. But it’s not as simple as what he thinks because there were thousands of other factors that culminated in that one moment.

I’m thinking of this when I climb out the shower, rub my raw skin dry and throw on clean clothing. I’m still replaying the steps that led us here when I pack up my things and call Rachel. She’s thrilled when I tell her I’ll be home by tomorrow night.

The nausea hits again and I sink down and hug my knees to my chest.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jamie

There was no sleep for me last night. No matter how hard I tried and even after a run along the river and three beers in the bar. So now, I’m standing on Caiden’s doorstep feeling like death warmed up. One of his neighbours leaves her apartment, and I give her a smile, trying not to look like a creep standing here staring at his door. She gives me a curious look and a soft ‘hello’ and then disappears into the stairwell.

I stand on his welcome mat and study the black print on it - a black cat and the words,Ford’s Placein big bold letters. It's the kind of thing someone gets given as a gift and not something they buy themselves. Deciding I’ve stood in one spot for long enough, I rap on the door, my stomach coiled tight with nerves. I’ve rehearsed everything I need to say - ran over the words in the darkness of my cramped hotel room. I shuffle my feet on the mat, looking around the empty corridor. What feels like hours later, the lock clicks and then Caiden’s there in front of me.

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