you hardly notice at all when it starts.
cooper likes to spoil you. not just with things—though there’s plenty of that. he likes to make your life easy. he’s the one that jumps up when you mention something you forgot at the store. he insists on running your errands (“you just relax, honey,” he always croons. “i’ll bring you back something good.”). he’s the one that convinces you that you don’t really need your job at all; he took such good care of you, didn’t he? wouldn’t it be so nice to just stay home?
it’s not until you receive a text from a friend that you realize you haven’t seen anyone other than cooper and the kids in a few weeks; cooper had made such good points, after all. someone should be around when the kids get home from school, and he works such long hours. it’s a relief for them not to be alone. it’s a comfort to be able to cook for them and cooper, to keep the house clean, to take care of everyone like he took care of you.
you bring it up to him while the two of you get ready for bed. side by side, cooper flosses diligently and you rinse off your toothbrush, watching him in the mirror. “i got a text from abby this morning.”
his eyes dart to yours through the glass. “really?” he asks, discarding the floss. “what did she want?”
you shrug. “just checking up, i guess. i think we’re going to go to lunch tomorrow.”
the way he freezes makes you feel as though you’ve said something wrong. “i don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
with a frown, you turn to look at him. “why? it’s only abby.”
only abby. the words roll around in cooper’s head; only abby had never liked him. she had been convinced from the moment they met that he had ill intentions. he hadn’t, of course. not for you. you were, aside from his kids, the only real thing in his life. the one thing keeping him tethered to who he actually was. you made him better. consumed him so much that his other indiscretions had mostly fallen to the wayside (there were, of course, a few stragglers. he is who he is).
“i just…don’t like it, honey. i have a bad feeling.”
you kiss his chin. “i appreciate your concern,” you smile. “but i’ll be fine.”
you turn to leave the bathroom, but cooper’s arms wrap around you, one around your waist and the other around your chest. “c’mon,” he goads.
“cooper,” you groan.
“i’ll come home early from work and we can rent a movie. we’ll order dinner...give you a night off.” he’s coaxing you. you’ve heard him do it to the kids a thousand times; you aren’t sure when he started speaking to you that way.
you scoff. “what’s the big deal?”
cooper squeezes you against him, crushingly tight, like he doesn't know his own strength. he nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing a soft kiss against your collarbone. you let out a frail whimper, unsure whether to lean into his comfort or fight against him. cooper is your safe space, after all. the person who had healed all your ailments since you met. the one who wiped your tears and held you until your problems magically went away.
“i just want to keep you safe, sweetheart. don’t you trust me?”
