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CHAPTER SIX
"Andrew?" "Andrew??" "Andrew?!" "ANDREW?!"
It took four attempts for Stephanie to rouse me from my daydream. I had my feet up on my desk. I was staring blankly out the window at the Paris skyline. Cooper's letter was laying on my lap. Still unopened. "A."
"Pardon me, Stephanie, I was lost in thought," I managed to get out, as I snapped back into reality. It was a Wednesday. Late. Grey outside. Raining. The world inside my head reflected in the world outside my window. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm heading out for the evening," she said slowly, checking to make sure I was okay, "I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I left?"
"No, thank you. I appreciate it. We had a good day, today, didn't we?" That morning we had pitched a new account, a multi-national brand based in the Netherlands. I had gotten the call about an hour before letting me know that we had won the work--it would become our biggest client. It would mean lots of work, but lots of hiring and lots of great things to come.
"I think it's safe to say that you and Thomas gave one of your best sales pitches ever," Stephanie replied. Always a kind word.
I laughed.
"Well, I don't know about that, but I appreciate the sentiment. Go home and enjoy your night. You should celebrate, too."
She gave me a nod and was gone.
I went back to staring out the window. Celebrate. What a novel idea.
I sat there awhile longer, finally as darkness descended on the city, I got up, slipped my jacket on, tucked the letter into my pocket and headed out the door.
If there's one thing I should've learned, it was that champagne in quantity was not my friend. By the time I arrived home from work, Sophie was long gone, but there was a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator. Clearly Thomas had called ahead. Both sweethearts.
Well, that was two bottles ago. I had found another one stuck in the back of the refrigerator in the bar in the living room. Now, I had moved on to the red wine.
Celebrating. Right? Celebrating.
No.
I stumbled into the hall. Slumped into the chair by the door. And fished the card out of my jacket pocket. I took a long, hard pull right from the bottle.
Well. It's now. Or never.
I tore open the envelope. "A." I dropped to the floor, and leaned back against the wall.
It was a simple white notecard with Cooper's monogram on the front. WPH. William Cooper Hargrove Plimpton IV. How's that for a name. I always liked just "Cooper." "Coop."
 "My dearest--"
Fuck. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks already.
"My dearest-- I know it's not fair of me to do this. But, I miss you. Terribly..."
This so wasn't fair. Another pull from the bottle. I was beyond drunk at this point.
"...I've spent the last few months back in London. I know you haven't been home. I've checked in regularly with Sophie to make sure you're okay. There's no way for me to explain, or apologize, or seek forgiveness for what I've done to you..."
A wracking sob. Shaking.
"...at this point, as I've reflected on our time together, I can't live with the way we've left things. I'm back in Paris for a few days. I needed the sights and sounds of our life together. I was going through withdrawal without them..."
Is this for real? I thought to myself in between sobs. I chugged the rest of the bottle.
"...I'm not sure if you'll even read this. But if you do, I want you to know that I'm still here. I will wait for you. And, if you don't come back--which I understand--then I need you to know that the time we spent together will forever be the best years of my life--I was the happiest, the saddest, the funniest, the most me, the most open, that I've ever been in my entire life..."
Fucking, Christ. Fuck. FUCK.
"...You have redefined who I am. I can only hope, that if we don't meet again, that what I did to you hasn't completely ruined your memories of our time together. I hope that you remember the good times. That you don't feel like you wasted your time--because I don't..."
Shaking. Crying. Sweating. Screaming. FUCK.
"...With love, always--Cooper."
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
I slumped onto the floor. Curled up into a ball. And cried my head off.
I awoke to dull pain. In my head. And a sharp pain in my side. Like I'd been kicked. I flipped around as I felt it again.
"MERDE!" Iheard. I HAD been kicked. Sophie had arrived.
"Get up, silly man," she said, as she proceeded down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Well, at least I could count on Sophie to treat me the same, no matter what.
I pulled myself up to a sitting position, and leaned against the wall. And dropped my head into my hands. FUCK. My head HURT.
Soon the smell of coffee wafted through the house, and I dragged myself to my feet, and stumbled down the hallway into the kitchen. I dropped into one of the chairs. And put my head down on the table as Sophie finished making the coffee.
"I suppose this means you've finally read the letter," she said gruffly as she slid a cup of coffee with hot milk across the table to me. "So, what did he have to say for himself... I miss you. I love you. I can't live without you. I'm sorry I ruined your life." She brought over a plate of croissants and set them. "He always read like an open book. So damn predictable."
"Please...," I started, "Sophie, please... I don't need the ranting right now. My head hurts. My whole body aches. I know everything you could possibly say... I've said them all to myself before. Please."
She just huffed and walked away.
I picked up the coffee and a croissant and started to eat as I walked down the hall and into the living room. The remains of last night scattered around. Empty bottles. Pillows on the floor.
I crossed to the doors, and opened them, stepping out onto the balcony. Letting the cool, morning breeze hit me. I set the coffee down and shucked my shirt. Feeling the rays of the sun hit my body. The pounding in my head starting to ebb. I closed my eyes. And for a moment tried to forget. But, instead of forgetting, a feeling of calm swept through my body. Maybe it was the residual booze, maybe the caffeine. Maybe it was the sun. But for the briefest of moments, as I stood in the sun, I felt like things were going to be okay.
After a long, hot shower I went to find Sophie and found her upstairs in the laundry room sorting my whites and darks.
"I apologize for snapping at you earlier," I said softly as I watched her work, "I'm going to head into the office now. You know how much it means to have you here. Thank you."
She looked up at me finally. Met my eyes. And for one of those brief moments her eyes turned soft. "Have a good day, Andrew."
And with that she was back to work. I shook my head and let a small smile creep across my face as I walked back downstairs and out into a new day.
TO BE CONTINUED.