by Jacie Lennon
We haven’t really seen each other since the fight, and he hasn’t tried to make contact beyond asking how I’m feeling every once in a while. Hanna just shrugs, so I sit up completely and peek over the back of the couch. Mason is staring this way, so I lift a hand and wave him over. Hanna disappears down the hallway, and I don’t know whether to be relieved she won’t witness this or to yell at her to stay.
The couch dips under Mason’s weight as he sits down. He drops a bag beside his legs. Then, he leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, and looks at me. He opens his mouth, and nothing comes out. He lifts one hand, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Are you sick?” he says, his eyes roaming over my body.
“No.” I furrow my brow as I look at him.
“Oh. You’re just wrapped up in a blanket on the couch in the middle of the day.”
“Yeah, I’ve been really tired lately.”
“Have you seen Kyle again?” He asks.
“Not since right before Grams passed away,” I say with a shrug and he nods.
“Are you sure he’s gone?” I’m not. I haven’t come in contact with him but the notes I found on my door had to be from him, even though I haven’t had one in a few weeks.
“It’s under control. I haven’t seen him since. Does it matter though? You haven’t really been around to protect me.” I try to sound calm and not angry when I say it. But it still comes out like that.
“I know. You’re right.” He grimaces and glances down and then back up. “So, he’s gone?”
“I think so,” I say with a shrug.
I got comfortable here with Hanna and Ezra, and I tried to push all thoughts of Kyle out of my mind. He was always controlling, but he never got physical before now. Mason nods and doesn’t say anything else about it, to my relief.
“I went to visit my mom,” he says.
I gasp before shutting my mouth again.
“And?” I prompt, bringing my legs in front of me and smoothing the hair around my face back.
He nods and then leans forward on his legs again. “Seeing her made me realize that I’ve been making some horrible choices over the past month. I wanted to come by and apologize. To say that this isn’t me. I’m not this person who is flaky or not dependable. I made you a promise. I made the baby a promise that I would be there, and I want to be in both of your lives. Grams would be so disappointed in how I’ve been acting,” he says as he reaches back up to rub at his neck again, a nervous tic.
I lean forward and grab his hand. Looping my fingers through his, I squeeze. “I want to make something clear, going forward. You are human, and you get to make mistakes, but you won’t be bringing alcohol into our house or our relationship after the way you’ve abused it. And you won’t be backing out of being in the child’s life once he or she is here. You have to decide if you are committed because, after this, you don’t get to change your mind. Understand?” I clench his hand again.
So help me if he changes his mind later.
“Oh, thank God. I thought for sure you were going to kick me out,” he says, letting out a deep breath and looking at me.
“I won’t say that you haven’t been upsetting me and been a downright jerk at times, and I’m not excusing that behavior. But it almost took you too long. I was about ready to give you the boot.” I notice that he hasn’t let go of my hand. It feels so good to get these words off my chest. I need him to know that he’s hurt me, and I need him to say he won’t do it again. I know that he’s been going through a lot with Grams’s death, and I hope he’s working through it in a healthy way now.
We sit in silence for a moment, both of us processing what is happening.
“I’m so sorry for how I’ve been acting and for how I treated you. I am not that person anymore, I promise you that. I’m going to be better, for you and our baby.” The anguish on his face makes my heart clench.
“I forgive you, Mason. It will take some time to work through this, but I want to work through it with you.”
He nods and his thumb runs across the back of my hand.
“What’s that?” I ask, eyeing the bag he dropped beside the couch when he sat down.
“It’s your present. I’m sorry I missed your birthday,” he says as he picks the bag up, pulling a rolled-up piece of paper out of it. “I’m sorry for a lot of things these days.”
I grab it from his outstretched hand, curiosity winning out over hurt for the moment. Unrolling the paper, I stare down at it. I’m sure the confusion shows on my face, and he reaches over to point at one of the specks enclosed in a circle.
“That’s Julia right there,” he says.
I glance up, finding his eyes on me. “What?” I ask.
A smile lights up his face, highlighting the dimple I fell in love with.
“I named a star after you. Behind that paper is a constellation of Perseus and Andromeda. The story reminded me of our relationship, just backward. You saved me from the rock I was tied to.” His words make me melt.
“You named a star after me?” I look at the paper in wonder, my fingers skating over the dots scattered everywhere before landing back on the one in the circle, Julia.
“It reminded me of our first date—when I saw the stars in your eyes. Now, you will always be a star in the sky.”
I can feel tears gathering in my eyes, and I blink quickly to keep them from running down my face.
“Happy birthday, Jules.” He reaches to grab my hand again as if I’m his lifeline.
“Thank you. I love it.” It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given.
“Can I stay with you at your apartment?” he asks suddenly.
I flinch. I know he can feel it. I want that desperately, but I’m a little gun shy. I don’t want to open myself back up and have him walk all over my heart.
“If you are okay with that.” He gives my hand a little squeeze.
I look up to meet his intense gaze. He doesn’t look away as I stare at him, showing me the truth in his eyes. I realize that he’s serious and that he wants to make this work. Make us work.
“Okay,” I say, letting out a small breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
“Okay?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Okay.” I hope he means what he says because if we crash and burn this time, I don’t think I will be getting back up.
33
Mason
“Hold on,” I say, rushing to get in front of Jules and open the door for her.
She’s carrying the lightest of my bags, one that I didn’t want her to carry in the first place, but she insisted on helping me move my stuff in.
“I’m fine, Mason,” she says, laughing as I struggle to keep the door open and hold on to the two bags in my hands.
I drop the bags in the entryway as soon as we are inside and push the strap of her bag off her shoulder, letting it fall to the floor as I pull her to me. I sometimes can’t believe how far we’ve come in such a short time.
I reach up and cradle her face in both of my hands. Lowering my head, I give her short pecks on her forehead, cheeks, and the tip of her nose. She wraps her arms around me and lays her head on my chest, blowing out a content breath. We stand, locked together.
“So, about the appointment tomorrow—”
“No, Mason. You said I could pick.” She pulls away and raises both eyebrows, daring me to challenge her.
“I know. I’m just having second thoughts,” I say.
She lays her head back on me. “Just think about how fun it will be in the delivery room when he or she comes out. What a fun surprise,” she mutters into my chest.
“I’m not sure you will think the delivery room is fun, but I guess I did agree to let you choose.”
“Yep, you did.”
I can feel her face move against me, and I know she’s smiling because she won. I huff, making her chuckle, and she pulls back.
“Hey,” she says, moving one arm and then the other, looping them around my
neck and holding me close. “I know how we can get rid of your pent-up frustration.”
She has a devilish smirk on her face, and I feel a tingle go through my body.
“Oh, yeah? What do you suggest?” I rest my hands on her hips, my thumbs drawing lazy circles on top of her clothes.
She raises up on her tiptoes to lay a kiss on my collarbone.
“I think,” she whispers, kissing in between words, “that we should”—kiss—“get you out of these pants.” Kiss.
Her hands reach to unbuckle my belt, and my hands clench her tighter. I reach down to stop her but only long enough for me to loop my hands under her ass. When I lift her up, she hooks her legs around my waist. Her hungry mouth finds mine, and I blindly walk down the hallway to her room, laying her on the bed. We make up for lost time, giving in to the lust we have for each other.
The night of the grand opening, Jules walks out of her bedroom, wearing a curve-hugging red dress that highlights her now-visible baby bump. My eyes linger on the soft swell as I feel my heartbeat speed up, realizing not for the first time that, in a few short months, I’m going to be a dad. I bring my hand up to rub against my chin as I check her out, the sight making my pants a little tighter, and I reach to adjust them as she puts her lipstick on in the hallway mirror.
Damn, I think as I watch the tube of lipstick circle around her mouth, closely following the red line while trying not to be obvious.
“You ready, babe?” she asks, tucking the lipstick back in her clutch and expectantly looking at me.
Babe. The term makes me smile, and I fight the urge to stare at her since this is the first time I’ve heard her call me that.
I think back on our journey, and I feel proud of us for all of our failures together and our victories. The endearment reminds me that I made the right choice, choosing Jules and my baby. Our baby.
We both agreed to not find out the gender, wanting to keep it a surprise. But for some reason, I think it’s a girl. Jules just rolls her eyes every time I call it a girl, and she tells me it’s a fifty percent chance it could be a boy. I shake my head and tell her it’s a girl; I can feel it.
“Ready.” I hold my arm out to her, relishing in the feel of her small hand resting in the crook of my elbow. “You look beautiful,” I say because she is.
She’s a knockout. But I also love to watch the pink flush bloom across her cheeks when I pay her a compliment. She’s glowing now. The sickness is gone, and she looks radiant. Pregnancy looks good on her, and I tell her every day, which makes her swat my arm and turn red. I fuckin’ love it.
“Thank you,” Jules murmurs.
We walk out the door, ready to attend the opening of the coffee shop we’ve both worked so hard for.
We are instantly pulled in different directions once we enter Nickoli’s Bistro. Debra wants to take pictures of Dad and me, and Hanna takes Jules’s hand, leading her over to a table somewhere. We mingle, laughing and talking with others, but I have one eye always looking for a stunning red dress, unable to keep my mind off the woman wearing it.
Every time I find her, she meets my gaze, a smile crossing her face and a twinkle in her eye before she blushes and looks away. I can feel her attention on me from across the room, separated by an ocean of people.
“Everything looks good, son,” Dad says, pulling my eyes away from Jules and back to him.
“Thanks,” I tell him, a smile on my face as I survey the room and how different it looks with the state-of- the-art coffee machines lined up behind a beautiful wooden counter. “It was smart of you to bring Jules on with us. She really knew the ins and outs of all the supplies and setup needed.”
Dad nods, and Debra asks us to stand closer. Dad wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we smile while Debra snaps a picture with her phone. I crane my neck around to look for Jules while Dad continues to talk next to me, but I have no idea what he’s saying. I pull my phone out and see that we’ve been here for an hour already, and now, I’m ready to go.
“Dad,” I say, slapping him on the shoulder and cutting off what he is saying in the process, “I’ve got to go.”
He gives me a look that tells me he sees through my bullshit and knows exactly why I’m bailing.
“I’ve got to get my woman home,” I confirm what he’s thinking.
“Fine. But take the trash out the back first, will you? The bins are too full to clean up with later.”
I nod and give him another slap on the shoulder before walking toward Jules.
“Hey, babe,” she says with a smile as I get to her small group. She tilts her cheek up as I lean in and give her a kiss.
“Hey, you ready to get out of here?” I ask, raising my eyebrows while letting my gaze linger below her neck.
“We just got here,” she says, a slight frown on her face.
“We’ve got things to take care of,” I say.
She stares at me. I clear my throat, and Hanna giggles next to her, no doubt seeing the expression on my face.
“I’ve got to go run the trash outside to the dumpster really quick, and then I’m ready to go.”
I lean over, resting my hand on her thigh where it’s crossed over her other leg on the stool she’s sitting on. I can hear her breath catch, and I know she’s feeling what I’m feeling.
“Okay,” she says in a breathy whisper.
I smirk and head toward the back to take care of the trash.
I grab the bags and kick the door open to throw them in the dump. Once that’s done, I dust my hands off and turn to walk back inside when a voice stops me dead.
“Hello, Mason Porter.” It sends a chill down my spine.
I do a quick spin to look into the face of the one person I never wanted to see again.
“Kyle. What the fuck are you doing here?” I demand, narrowing my eyes at him.
The guy has a way of showing up where he’s least expected or wanted.
“I just wanted to drop in and … talk,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I don’t want to talk. I have somewhere to be. And you do too. Go home, Kyle, to Virginia. You aren’t wanted here.” I surprise myself with how calm my voice is. I truly want to beat the shit out of him, but then it would just take me longer to get to Jules. Plus, I don’t want to show up with blood all over me.
“Jules doesn’t want you, Mason. She and I are working things out,” he says.
I’m thrown by his robotic voice and how proper he’s being.
“No, you aren’t. Jules will never get back together with you,” I tell him while slipping around to the side.
He’s giving me major creepy vibes, and I don’t know what to expect from him. I kick myself every day for ever leaving her to face him alone. With one final glance at Kyle and his stony face, I pull my phone out to call the cops if he doesn’t leave and I start to walk back inside to let Dad know the garbage is taken care of and that I’m taking off.
“Not with you in the picture,” I hear the sinister voice behind me.
I try to turn, but something solid strikes my face, turning my vision spotty. Before I realize I’m falling, my head slams into the ground, and I grunt with the impact.
What the fuck?
I roll to the side, pushing with my arm, as I skate my tongue around my mouth, feeling all my teeth are still there. Slowly, I open my eyes, but warm liquid flows into my eyelashes, red swimming in my peripheral as I see Kyle’s face looming closer.
“Good-bye, Mason,” he says before I feel his shoe connect with my ribs.
I try to pull my arms down to protect my chest, but as soon as I do, whatever he hit me with first connects with my face again. The pummels raining down on my body feel endless as I lie there, unable to defend myself. I briefly see a bag in his hand before my eyes are so swollen that I have to close them.
A bag of what?
My mind drifts off, barely registering the sounds of my grunts. Suddenly, everything goes black, the pain a distant memory, and all I can f
eel is relief.
34
Jules
My mind is only on one thing, and that’s getting Mason home. Hanna chattering beside me is like white noise as I clench my legs together and smile to myself while I remember the look in Mason’s eyes. I crane my neck around, looking at the door he walked out of, hoping to see it open so we can get the hell out of here.
I frown, glancing around the room again. It’s been at least five minutes since he left. I climb down off the stool I’m sitting on and let Hanna know I’m going to find Nick. She nods, giving me a peck on the cheek, and turns back to Ezra.
I finally find Nick with Debra, and he pauses his conversation when he sees my face.
“What’s going on?” he asks, a frown creasing his forehead.
“Nothing. I don’t think. Have you seen Mason?” I do another quick sweep of the room while Nick does the same.
“No, he went to take the trash out and said he was taking you home.”
“Yes, that’s what he told me, too, but it’s been, like, ten minutes now.”
“I’m sure he just got caught talking to someone,” Nick says with a shrug.
I frown again. I can’t see Mason stopping to make idle chat, not after the searing looks he gave me.
“I’ll just go check outside real quick,” I mutter.
“I’ll go with you,” Nick says. “It’s dark in the back.”
We make it to the door, and the baby kicks my stomach, almost like a warning.
As soon as Nick pushes the door open, we both see him. Nick freezes, and I feel a scream work its way up my throat. I don’t realize that it came out until Hanna is by my side, rubbing my back and trying to talk through the noise. Nick is running toward Mason. He’s lying on the ground, and as I get closer, with Hanna fastened to my arm, I can see the puddle of blood forming beneath his head. His beaten and battered head.
I wrench my arm from Hanna’s grasp and sink to my knees by him, hovering my hands over his body.