Blindness(14)

I’m embarrassed that Cody walked in on us. I’m not much for public displays of affection. I also have this heaviness in my chest—a tightness I haven’t been able to shake since the awkward family dinner where everyone but me pretended Cody was invisible. Feeling like I should explain myself, I start to talk, but Cody instantly holds up his hand to stop me.

“Really, none of my business. You two are living here…together…and I walked in on you. I was rude. I’m sorry,” he says, still unable to make eye contact with me.

“You just surprised us, that’s all,” I say, clearing the counter of my mess from the salad I was making for dinner. I take the droppings to the trash, and move to the sink to run my hands under the water just as Cody reaches for the faucet to rinse out a coffee pot. Our hands touch briefly, and we both jerk back.

“Sorry, just had to clean out this pot. I don’t think they’ve used it in ages…it’s dusty,” he says, still not looking me in the eyes.

“Go ahead,” I say, taking my apron off and rolling it up with the ties. My focus is intent on the stream of water. I watch as Cody fills the pot completely, twice, and swishes the water around before pouring it in the sink. His hands are meticulous, like a surgeon, and I’m spellbound. He leaves the water on as he turns away from me.

“All yours,” he says, before he busies himself with the packet of coffee in his hands. He’s looking through the cabinets, searching for filters, when he just stops, his shoulders slumping, and his head slung low. When I hear his breath escape in a long, defeated whisper of a moan—something in me breaks.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “No filters? I know I saw some the other day. I’m sure I can find them.”

I slide over to stand next to him, and reach up on my tiptoes to move a few of the boxes out of the way. I’m desperate to find them for him, somehow believing that I can take away whatever pain this is that’s constantly brewing behind his eyes if I can just find the damn coffee filters.

I pull the cocoa down, along with some boxes of tea, before I see the white edge of the filters, and I grab them. I turn to face Cody, and am immediately struck by his closeness—my body buzzing from the instant rush of adrenaline. He’s inches from me, and I can feel the heat from his breath radiating along my neck and cheeks. He’s taller than me, by a few inches, and his chest is wide enough to swallow me whole. Even in his torn-up T-shirt, I can see the well-formed muscles underneath. His eyes are fixed on my face—not moving, not blinking. I gulp, though I try to mask it with a small cough.

“Hey, you know what?” I force the words out despite the rapid-fire beating happening in my chest. “You should just take this.” I put my hand on the coffee maker and reach for the plug, but Cody stops me, putting his hand on mine. He bites at his bottom lip as he stares at our hands now. My eyes are wide as I’m staring at them, too.

“I can’t. It’s not mine, and I won’t take anything from them,” he says, his voice hardened and sure.

Confused, but also not wanting to offend Cody, I try to reassure him that no one would miss it. “Really, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone make coffee…besides you,” I giggle, mostly because I’m nervous, and my damn heart won’t stop speeding up. “Take it.”

“No,” he says forcefully. He sets the pot down on the counter and pushes it away. Seconds later, he’s walking out the kitchen door, slamming it shut with enough force to cause me to flinch. My eyes are stinging with tears, a sensation I’ve fought off for years. I stand there stiffly and hold my breath, trying to stop them from forming—almost willing my eyes dry. When I hear the low rumble of Cody’s truck, I let a single tear fall down my face. Seconds later, I hear Trevor’s steps coming down the nearby stairs, and I take a deep breath and tuck whatever-that-was deep inside.



I had planned on making a romantic dinner for Trevor and me, but after my encounter with Cody, I wasn’t up for cooking much. I didn’t like that every interaction I had with him left something behind—like a scratch I had to tend to and just couldn’t seem to leave alone.

If I was being truthful with myself, Cody was starring in my thoughts more often than Trevor since the night he joined us for dinner. I know it isn’t right, but I also know it’s an innocent crush. I’ve never really had a crush, a distraction that helps me miss Trevor less while he’s away. Cody is just a checkbox in life I need to get through.

But tonight, I belong to Trevor—I wasn’t allowing myself to entertain any of my distractions. I pulled out my best puppy-dog eyes and begged him to take me out, which he was more than happy to do. If he had his way, we’d be at a different bar or club every night, meeting other couples, networking and partying until dawn. Trevor is an extravert, always the life of the party. I guess that’s why he’s done so well in school, and with his apprenticeship interviews—he knew the right people, and when he didn’t, he knew where to find them so he could get them in his corner early.

I, on the other hand, am more comfortable at home, tucked away in some nook, curled up in a chair like a cat. It was probably from the years of living with Mac and spending nights at home on my own. Even when Mac and I really started to connect, we still didn’t go out much. Maybe a celebration dinner at the burger joint or a backyard party at one of his cop friend’s houses, but that was about as formal as it got.