Defining Moments (18 page)

His question immediately puts me on the defensive, but I’m unsure why. I’d never really had a plan. I’d always wanted to get married and have a family, but I don’t recall ever having a dream to have a specific career. I’d planned to go to college at some point, but I was so young and had no idea what I wanted to major in. When I found out I was pregnant with the twins, I gave up the idea of college, knowing having babies would keep me busy full-time.

“I didn’t, I guess. I mean, I was only eighteen when I got pregnant and then married soon after. Justin and I never even really discussed whether I would work or not. It seemed pointless since he was making barely more than minimum wage, was in college, and we’d have two kids to put in daycare if I worked. Daycare would’ve cost more than what I would’ve made working with only a high school education. We never talked about me having a career. Ever.” This revelation seems weird to me, because I guess I’d never really thought of it like this. Justin had never once, that I can recall, asked me if I wanted to work or if I wanted to go back to school. Even after the boys were all in school. By then, I’m sure he was used to me just doing everything and didn’t expect that to change.

I think Cord can tell I’m getting upset, because he reaches over and grabs my hands, pulling me across the couch to sit next to him. He snuggles me into his side and lays his face on my head.

“You just realized what a selfish prick he was, didn’t you?” he asks gently.

I nod. “The shitshow that started and ended my divorce is what showed me that. This conversation just made me realize he’d always been that way, and I’d just been blind to it.”

“Well, I hate you went through all of that, E, but if you hadn’t and you were still married to him, I wouldn’t have you here with me. So, I think maybe I’ll like Justin just a little bit for giving you up.”

His words confuse me at first because they sound almost intimate, and Cord and I are just friends. Yes, there has always been an unspoken chemistry between us, but we’ve never acted on it.

I look up into his eyes, which are filled with emotion. I’ve really opened myself up to him, and he still hasn’t told me about his wife. I need him to tell me the real story.

I lay my hand on his chest, but don’t pull away. Looking directly into his eyes so I can see his reaction, I whisper, “Tell me about Maloree.”

His eyes almost instantly avert from mine and his body stiffens. He grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently before slowly pulling his body up off the couch. I’m about to apologize for asking, because now I’m pissed off at myself for pushing him. I shouldn’t have asked.

“I’m gonna get another glass of wine for this conversation. Would you like another one, too?”

Holy shit, he’s really going to tell me about her.

“Yes, please,” I reply quietly.

After a few minutes, he still hasn’t come back into the living room. I don’t turn toward the kitchen to check, but I can tell he’s stalling, and that’s okay. I know he needs a minute to get his thoughts straight. I head toward the bathroom to give him a few more minutes to himself.

When I return to the living room, he is sitting on the couch with a photo album in his lap. I sit beside him and he hands it to me. My eyes meet his as he begins their story.

“Mal and I met in high school. Sophomore year. We were inseparable from the very beginning. First, she quickly became my best friend, but within six months, we were dating exclusively.” He stops long enough to take a long, slow pull from his wine glass. “I loved her like I never thought you could love another person. She was kind, beautiful, and loving—everything I never knew I wanted or needed in my life.”

He opens the photo album, which is sitting on my lap, and the smiles that greet me almost shatter my heart. A very young-looking Cord, with a smile that could light up the world, has his arm around a stunning Maloree. They both look like they’re about to explode with happiness.

“We dated all through high school, having our fair share of young love spats and breakups, but we always found our way back to each other quickly. When we graduated from high school, we chose two different colleges. I received a full ride to CU to play football, and she’d received an academic scholarship to UCLA. She decided she needed to ‘spread her wings’ and get out of Colorado for a bit. Within our first semester, she’d had enough of that and applied to CU,” he chuckles. “She hated California, and by spring semester of freshman year, she was living in the dorms at CU, attending business school. By the beginning of our senior year, we were living in our own apartment and engaged. I loved her hard, Ellie. She was an amazing woman. Determined. Beautiful. Independent. Loving.”

He stands slowly. “I need a second,” he says as he walks back toward his bedroom. I nod, but don’t speak. I wonder if he’s ever told this whole story to anyone. I mean, his family lived through it with him, so he didn’t need to explain. I don’t turn the page in the photo album, but I look intently at the pictures of the young couple, so in love, and my heart breaks that he’s endured such pain.

A few minutes later, he comes back, takes the photo album from my lap and places it on the coffee table. He grabs my hands, pulling me to standing, and then into a bone-crushing hug. I let him hold onto me like I’m a life preserver on a sinking ship. He’s shaking, but I can tell it’s not from crying. He’s angry.

When he pulls away, he grabs my hands and we sit back down. “Sorry, I just needed to calm myself down.”

“Don’t apologize, Cord. This can’t be easy to relive.”

He nods but doesn’t speak immediately. After another gulp of his wine, he continues.

“During our last semester at CU, our Homecoming game was against UCLA. It was a close game, but we pulled out a win in overtime. After the dance, there was a huge celebration party at one of the frat houses. Mal wanted to go, but I didn’t. I was exhausted and, truthfully, by then, I was pretty much over the partying. She wanted to go just for a bit because her best friend, Sami,” he says her name with emphasis, pauses, and then looks at me to make sure I know he’s talking about Bishop’s wife, “had won Homecoming Queen and had demanded that Mal come celebrate with her. So we argued about it, but I caved and we went. I was irritated, so I left the girls to do their dancing thing and I was off talking to some of the other players and Bishop.”

He stops, gulping the rest of his wine. I know this is the part he’s dreading.

“I realized after about an hour or so that I hadn’t seen Mal or Sami for a while, so I went to see where they’d gone off to. I looked everywhere but upstairs, because, well, only the frat guy rooms were upstairs, and I knew she wouldn’t go up there. When Bish and I had searched the entire grounds and still couldn’t find them, I became frantic, running through the house screaming their names. Bish and I ran up the stairs and, before we even opened the first door, I knew something bad had happened. I could feel it in my soul.”

He lays his head back against the couch, running his hands through his hair roughly.

“When I opened the fourth door, my world collapsed, Ellie. Mal and Sami were both lying naked on the floor, beaten so badly I barely recognized them.” His voice breaks and he leans forward dropping his face into his hands as his body starts to shake uncontrollably. I put my hand on his back and he flinches away from it. Standing quickly, he starts to pace.

“They’d been raped and beaten. We called 9–1-1 immediately, and within minutes, there were cops and ambulance people everywhere. They both ended up having surgery that night. Mal because she had a broken rib that had lacerated her kidney and she had internal bleeding, and Sami because she’d had a fractured jaw. It took them a really long time to heal. They were in the hospital for weeks. Mal had so much damage to her body that we were told she’d never be able to have children.”

More pacing, hands clenched at his sides. I stand quickly and wrap myself around him before I even think about it. He stops pacing when I cling to him, but his body stiffens further and he doesn’t return my attempt to comfort him. I pull back and look at his face, which is a mask of anger and contempt.

“It was a couple of football players from UCLA who had done it. Mal identified them because they had been a couple of new hotshot freshman players when she’d gone there. The guys had put Rohypnol in their drinks while they were dancing and then got them upstairs before they were completely out of it. They’d found both guys’ DNA on both girls. They’d both raped them.”

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore, Cord. You’ve told me enough,” I tell him gently, but he shakes his head and continues, and I return to sitting on the couch.

“The boys who did this to them walked away, Ellie. The detective who was leading the investigation was new and did some sketchy shit during the evidence collection. The case got thrown out at trial. Their only punishment was they had been expelled from UCLA and their football scholarships stripped. Maloree and Sami watched those bastards hug their families and walk out of that courtroom with no punishment. They both shut down. I lost both of them that day. Maloree refused to leave our apartment for months. She never even returned to school, quitting college the middle of her last semester. Sami lost her mind. She was committed to a hospital for a few months because she literally had a nervous breakdown when she tried to return to classes.”

Cord has managed to pace himself all the way across the room, and when I look up to see why he stopped talking, his body is sliding to down the wall, crumpling into itself. I can feel the tears running down my face, but I don’t brush them away. Cord is lost in his thoughts and I don’t want to interrupt the moment he is having. His fists are still clenched tight, as are his eyes.

“I graduated a few months later, and Maloree and I eventually married. A couple of years later, I convinced her to see a therapist. She was miserable. I was miserable. She was depressed all the time and scared of her own shadow. Sami, on the other hand, became somewhat of a wild child and dealt with her pain differently. Bishop had always had a thing for Sami, but she’d never given him the time of day. When she went off the rails, he was the one who reigned her back in and you’ve seen how their story ended up. Someday, I’m sure Sami will tell you her own story when she’s ready.”

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but his face has softened a little bit when talking about Sami.

“Before the incident, Mal and I had been discussing our plans after graduation. I’d always loved to cook, and although my degree was in business, I’d known since I was a kid that I wanted to own my own restaurant. Mal hated to cook but was a business genius. After the rape, she had no desire to do anything. We lived a shell of a life for seven horrible years. I loved her dearly, but she was not the same person I’d fallen in love with. She wasn’t living, just existing.”

He swallows loudly and opens his eyes to find mine, flowing with tears.

“I came home from working a long shift at a financial firm I’d been working for to find a quiet, filthy house. It wasn’t uncommon for her to go days without getting out of bed, so I wasn’t exactly surprised. But I knew something was different. I felt it. I rushed upstairs and found our bed empty. The bathroom light was on and the door was closed, but it wasn’t locked, which was very unlike her.” He stops long enough to scrub his hands down his face and push the tears away.

“She’d slit both her arms from elbow to wrist and laid down in a tub full of water, fully clothed. I knew she was gone the moment my eyes met her face, but I pulled her from the tub and started CPR anyway. I called 9–1-1 and they came and got her. Doctor said she’d been dead for hours and she went quickly. She’d known what she was doing when she’d made those cuts. They were deep and exactly where they needed to be to get the job done.”

His face is cold now. No more anger, just emotionless.

“About a year after Mal died, I kind of lost it, and went after one of the guys who had raped her because I’d heard he was living in a nearby city. I waited for him to leave work one night and confronted him in the parking lot. He knew who I was instantly and smirked at me. I didn’t really know what I was going to say or do when I got there, but the minute the smirk hit his lips, I lost my mind. I don’t even remember most of the fight, but when I woke up in a jail cell, beat to hell with aggravated assault charges, I knew I needed to deal with my grief in a different way. I ended up pleading to lesser battery charges, did thirty days in jail, some community service, and restitution for his medical bills. I almost killed him. I had wanted him to die.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “After that, I kind of became a hermit. I started seeing a counselor for my anger and to help me deal with my grief, and that is when Saint became Cord.”

I stand from the couch, walking to him slowly. I crouch down beside him and wrap my arms around him as best I can. He pulls me to him, causing me to end up in his lap, and he takes a deep breath with his face buried in my neck. I don’t object and pull him tighter to me. I feel the wetness of his tears on my face and neck. We sit like that for what seems like hours.

When he finally pulls away, his face is red and his eyes are swollen. His eyes don’t meet mine as he stands and then helps me up.

“I’m just going to go for a walk, if that’s okay with you. I’ll walk you back to your place.”

I nod because the lump in my throat is huge. I pushed him to relive this pain and now I feel like a complete asshole.

“Cord.” I grab his forearm as he starts to walk away. “I’m sorry I pushed you. I should’ve waited until you were ready to tell me yourself.”

“No, Ellie, don’t apologize. You are becoming one of my closest friends and you deserved to know. I just haven’t told the whole story from start to finish in a long time, and I didn’t realize how much it would gut me to relive it all again,” he tells me seriously.

“Well, I am sorry. What you all went through is the worst thing I’ve ever heard. I am so sorry for your loss, Cord,” I choke out.

He pulls me to him and hugs me tightly.