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Cornell shrugged. “Not if you don’t let it.”
Linda smiled. “Try thinking about the next best thing that can happen.”
It didn’t feel right to think about anything involving Ali as settling for the next best thing. But then Cornell chuckled to himself before muttering under his breath. “It’s the best next something.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing, just… so that’s all I have to do?”
Linda laughed. “Well, I didn’t say it was easy. But it’s doable with a little work. Did what happened to Ali change how you feel about her?”
“I love her more.” Because she’s strong and brave and keeps going.
“Can’t we take a positive thing like that and focus on it?” Linda asked. “What does loving Ali more look like to you, Cornell?”
Pressing his lips together. “I guess it just means forever.” And whatever comes after.
He thought of his mother’s ring tucked safely away at home, and suddenly he didn’t want to wait for the perfect time—when everything was right around them. It didn’t matter because Cornell knew they would be right even when everything was wrong.
“We can focus all we want on the hurt. But when you pause and think about why it hurts so much to see the ones we love in pain, it stems from something sort of beautiful, doesn’t it?”
That’s exactly what their relationship was. There were lows but more highs. There had been tears but undoubtedly more laughter. In between the dark and light were Ali and Cornell—the something sort of beautiful.
Cornell chuckled to himself. “You don’t even know.”
* * *
“What are you doing in here?” Ali asked, stepping into the garage. “Are you taking that down?”
Cornell stood with his arms raised, holding a wrench to loosen the bolts. “Don’t need it anymore.”
Ali stepped closer. “You don’t need to get rid of it.”
I don’t, but I want to.The punching bag could stay in the garage, he could still use it when he didn’t feel like hitting the gym but needed to burn some energy. But he had punched and packed too many painful memories—including the worst one—into it. The house was going to become their home in a few short weeks. There’s no room for all that shit here, Cornell thought.
“Watch your feet.”
“Cornell, if this helps you—” Ali jumped when the bag fell to the floor between them.
He bent, picking up the bag with a grunt and bringing it to the corner of the garage. “It doesn’t.” Cornell placed his hands on his hips with a sigh. “It didn’t.”
Ali pouted softly. “What happened last weekend, it’s okay.”
It’s not, Cornell thought, shaking his head. He glanced across the garage to the wall he had Ali pressed against, the echo of her whimper ever etched inside his mind.
“It’s not okay. What I did wasn’t okay.” He turned back to Ali. “I want to take it back, but I can’t. But I promise you, I swear, I’ll never do anything like that again.”
Ali pattered across the garage, tugging his sweatshirt. “It’s a lot. This is a lot,” she admitted softly. “I’m a lot right now.”
Cornell’s eyes moved from the wall to Ali. “It is. You are,” he said in agreement, pursing his lips together and trying not to laugh when the shocked look took hold of her face. “You’re a lot of everything really fucking good. And that’s why I don’t want any distractions. I’ve got too much good going on here,” he paused to lift Ali’s chin. Stay in the present, he could imagine Linda saying, which is why he didn’t look back at the punching bag that housed the buried anger of the past.
Letting go of his shirt, Ali reached up, threading her arms around his neck. He lifted her to press her middle to middle, her legs dangling. “You can talk to me,” she said softly. “Together, remember?”
“I know.” Cornell nodded. That doesn’t mean I always should. “But I’ll have a therapist of my own next week. Linda’s yours. We should keep one thing in our lives separate. Church and state and all that.”
Ali smiled.
“What?”
