by Lili Valente
“Yes, it matters,” Mason says, scowling as he snaps the folder shut and tosses it back onto the table. “A rental agreement isn’t a matter of public record. I want to know how she—”
“I don’t care!” I say, far louder than I intend. I ball my hands into fists at my sides. “It doesn’t matter,” I add in a wounded voice, a voice like a big, black bruise that’s going to take forever to heal. “I think you should go.”
“What?” Mason starts toward me, but stops when I take a quick step back. “Lark, please, this is crazy. There’s no reason to—”
“I’m not crazy. You lied,” I say, pointing an accusing finger at his chest.
“I didn’t say you were crazy, I said—”
“You lied,” I say again, struggling to maintain control. “You went looking for apartments in Atlanta with me, acting like we were going to move in together like we’d always planned, acting like you loved me, while behind my back you’d already signed a lease for an apartment in New York.”
“Please, Lark. Just listen. Please.” Mason lifts his hands, palms up, in a gesture that says he has nothing to hide.
A gesture I know is just another lie.
“It was four years ago,” he says. “I told you I was messed up and confused. I signed the lease on a bad day when my head was a mess. I was going to talk to you about it, but—”
I shake my head. “Messed up and confused is one thing, lying to me for almost a week, and proposing to me when you were planning to leave for New York the very next day is something else.”
“I didn’t plan to leave the next day,” Mason says, frustration and desperation warring in his tone. “I was going to back out of the lease. I was going to stay here and go to school in Atlanta and plan a wedding with you. But then Parker and I had that horrible fight and—” He breaks off with a shake of his head. “And then I stopped thinking and just…ran. New York was the backup plan, so I backed into it.”
Tears sting into my eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Please,” he says, driving a clawed hand through his already messy hair. “Yes, I signed the lease in New York. That was the part of me that felt like I was doomed if I stayed in this town, that didn’t think I was ever going to be good enough for you or get away from my past. But the other part of me couldn’t imagine starting a life without you in it.”
“But you did.” I fight to swallow past the lump rising in my throat. “And I had no idea there was a war going on inside of you, Mason. You seemed exactly the same. I’ve been over the days before you left in my head a thousand times, looking for clues that would have told me you were planning to bolt, but there was nothing.”
“Lark, please—”
“Nothing!” I repeat, his face swimming. “Not a single sign. The only thing I could think of was that it was an impulsive, last minute decision. That you ran because you were afraid of marrying me or afraid of moving forward or…something. Just that something had spooked you and you’d run without thinking.”
“That’s what happened, I—”
“No. That’s not true.” I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet Mason’s eyes before I continue. “This lease proves it. Now I know that it wasn’t impulsive, and that you deceived me in a way I never even imagined.”
“It wasn’t like that, Lark, I swear,” Mason says, his voice breaking. “Please, baby. I know I fucked up, but like I’ve been saying since the day I got back, I’m not going to fuck up again. I’m not even sure what was going through my head when all this went down. I swear to you, I’m not that person anymore. I would never betray your trust. Not on purpose and not because I was too—”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I blink, sending tears rolling down my cheeks. “But how can I ever know for sure? How can I ever trust you again?”
Mason’s breath rushes out. “You can know because you were there with me last night in that hotel room. That was more than just sex. That was me and you, together, with nothing to hide.”
“That’s not true.” I cross my arms at my chest, not wanting to think about last night. “You were hiding something. The lease proves it.”
“I wasn’t hiding it,” Mason says, his mounting frustration clear. “I’d forgotten about it.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’d forgotten that you’d made plans to move to New York and then lied to me about it for a week before—”
“No!” Mason barks before tucking his head to his chest. “No,” he repeats in a softer voice. “I hadn’t forgotten. I just didn’t think it mattered. That’s all part of the past.” He lifts pleading eyes to mine. “I’ve already told you how much I regret the way I treated you. The lease and everything else I did are all part of the same, stupid thing. I screwed up. Royally. Terribly. I know that. But I’m not going to screw up again, and that’s the truth. I’m not hiding anything from you.”
“How can I know that, Mason?” I ask, my voice breaking. “How can I trust a single word you say?”
Mason’s forehead wrinkles. “Because you know I’m telling the truth. You knew it last night when we were lying together, as close as two people can get, talking about how many kids we want to have.”
I shake my head. “We talked about that before. You still left.”
“Please, Lark, it’s not the same.” He laces his fingers together and lifts his joined hands. “Please. There is no doubt in my mind or my heart. I’m ready to promise my life to you. I want to start a family with you. I would marry you this afternoon if I could. Everything I’ve said from the moment I came back to town until now is the absolute truth.”
“I’m sorry, but…I can’t trust that.” I swipe at my cheeks. “I can’t trust you, and without trust, this… This isn’t going to work.”
Mason freezes for a long, silent moment. “So that’s it? It’s over?”
I bite my lip until it hurts—refusing to start crying again, at least not in front of Mason—and nod.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do this. This isn’t what you want, and it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you force me out of your life, we’re both going to regret it. Forever. This is so special. We’re special. Together.” He takes a careful step closer. “Just…let’s work this out, okay? I know we can. I know I can make it better if you’ll give me the chance.”
I hesitate.
Give him a chance.
I want to give him a chance, I want to believe that the past five days and the love we’ve rediscovered is real, but…it’s only been five days.
That lease proves Mason can fake anything for five days.
I can’t stop thinking about the way we laughed together four summers ago as we visited one cheap, Atlanta apartment after another, imagining what we were going to name the cockroaches we’d be sharing a kitchen with in our crappy new living space. We were so excited to finally live together that not even the reality of what we could afford on our limited budget had been able to dampen our spirits.
And then, the night he proposed, when he got down on one knee and told me he didn’t want to wait to promise me forever, when I cried and laughed and hugged him so tight…
He had hugged me just as tight, and there had been happy tears in his eyes. There had been no sign, no clue, nothing to warn me to expect the worst.
If I give Mason a chance, I might end up with that happily ever after I was imagining last night. Or I might end up deceived and broken all over again. There’s no way to know for sure. Mason is too good at hiding the things he doesn’t want other people to see.
He’s more of a master of deception than I ever assumed, so adept I will never be able to trust what he shows me on the surface.
Never. No matter how much I want to, no matter how it’s going to rip me apart to lose him all over again.
But, in the long run, it’s better to lose him now than years down the road, maybe after we’ve already started a family, when the situation will be infinitely more complicated. And painful. And sad.
I can’t remembe
r ever feeling this sad. Not even the first time Mason ripped my heart from my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whisper in a defeated voice.
“That’s it?” he asks, his breath coming faster. “You’re not even going to think about it?”
“I have thought about it.” I lift my chin, willing myself to stay strong for just a few more minutes. “It’s over, Mason. For good this time.”
He takes one stunned step back and then another, shaking his head back and forth. “Just like that,” he mutters beneath his breath, crossing to the table and snatching up the folder. “Because of some stupid piece of paper your crazy, suspicious sister found.” He draws back his arm, hurling the folder across the yard with a grunt that makes me flinch. He spins back to me, a wild look on his face. “Don’t let her do this, Lark. Her story isn’t our story. There’s no reason we can’t be happy.”
“I need you to leave.” I point toward the fence gate with one trembling arm.
I’ve never seen Mason this angry. I know he would never hurt me, but seeing him out of control is scary, especially knowing Felicity and Melody could be home any minute.
“This is insane!” He closes the distance between us so fast there’s no time for me to move away before my face is in his hands, his fingers buried in my hair as his thumbs trap my chin.
“Look at me.” He leans down until our faces are only a breath apart. “Look at me and tell me you don’t want to be together. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll walk out that door and never come back.”
I swallow and try to back away, but Mason has me trapped. “Let me go.” I curl my fingers around his forearms, intending to push him away. Instead, I cling to him, some primal part of me refusing to let go.
“Tell me,” Mason demands softly, his breath warm on my lips.
“You have to go, Mason,” I say, fighting the panic rising in my chest. With him so close, with his hands on me, and his skin warm beneath my fingers, it’s impossible to imagine never touching him again, never looking into his eyes or smelling his Mason smell or feeling his lips on mine.
But I have to imagine it. If I let the weak part of myself call the shots, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
“Leave,” I repeat in a firmer voice. “Now.”
“You can’t tell me you don’t love me,” Mason whispers. “Because you do, and you know we belong together. You felt it last night, the same way I did. Please,” he says, dropping his forehead to mine. “Don’t push me away. Don’t give up on us.”
“She asked you to leave.” Aria’s voice comes from the back door. “So leave. Before I call the police.”
My eyes slide to the left to find Aria standing on the top step leading down to the patio.
Mason’s hands slide from my hair as he turns to face her. “Why did you do this? Is it me you hate, or just the thought of anyone being happy when you’re not?”
“I’m not the one who lied, Mason, you are,” Aria says. “Own up to it or not, I don’t care. I just want you out of this house before my baby comes home.”
Mason glances over at me, an unspoken question in his eyes.
“You need to leave,” I whisper.
“This is crazy. This isn’t—”
“Leave,” I say. “Or I’ll call the police myself.”
He meets my gaze for a long moment before his shoulders slump and the fight goes out of his eyes. I swallow hard, refusing to think about how much it hurts to watch him give up on us, even when I’m the one demanding he do it. It doesn’t make sense, but nothing makes sense right now. My heart is howling too loud for my head to have a chance of pulling the fractured parts of me together.
“All right.” Mason nods to me, and then turns to Aria, his voice cold, resigned…and hurt. “Congratulations. Do you feel like a hero? Or at least better than you were feeling before? Now that you’ve made two more people in the world as sad and broken as you are?”
“Get out,” Aria says, a hitch in her voice that surprises me. She sounds more upset than angry.
“At least this time, I got to say goodbye,” Mason says, his mournful eyes gazing deep into mine, his words raw, ragged. “I will always, always wish this had ended differently. Because I love you. More than anything in the world. And that’s the truth.”
And then he turns and walks across the lawn and out the gate leading into the front yard.
A minute later, I hear his car start and pull away down the street.
He’s gone. And this time, I know in my heart he’s never coming back. Not for me.
Not ever.
The second the realization hits, I crumple to the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lark
I bury my face in my hands, crying like the world is coming to an end.
I know it isn’t, but God, it feels like it is. It feels like every good thing has been burned away, every hope and dream gone up in smoke, leaving ash behind. I swear I can taste it, bitter in my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” Aria says with a sniff. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
I hiccup, coming back to my body to realize Aria is on the ground beside me, rubbing my back in slow, comforting circles. At least I’m sure they’re meant to be comforting.
“I want to be alone,” I say, shifting away from my sister. “Please.”
“Are you sure this is what you want, Lark?”
“Yes. I just need…a few minutes by myself.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean with Mason.” She sniffs again, a long, liquid sniff.
I glance up, shocked to see tears wetting Aria’s red cheeks. Her skin always turns cherry red when she’s upset. It’s one of the hazards of being a redhead and the reason Aria usually stubbornly refuses to cry except at funerals or other legitimately tragic moments.
So why is she crying now? When she got what she wanted, and proved beyond a doubt that she was right about Mason all along?
“What do you mean?” I ask thickly.
“I mean what just happened.” Aria motions toward the gate and the front yard beyond. “I know Mason lied, and I can’t believe he hid his plans to go to New York from you for so long. But maybe he’s telling the truth about…everything else. Maybe he has changed.”
My jaw drops. I blink, then blink again, not knowing how to respond to this particular string of words coming from my sister’s mouth.
“He was so devastated,” Aria continues in a soft voice. “I could see it in his face, couldn’t you? That was real.”
“Are you serious right now? What the hell, Aria?” I shake my head and surge to my feet, needing to escape the insanity. “I can’t believe you’re actually trying to justify his lying to me. You of all people.” I start toward the back door, but Aria grabs my hand.
“Of course that’s not what I’m doing. I’ll never be okay with anything or anyone hurting you. Ever. That’s why I knew I had to show you the lease, but I just think—”
“How did you get a hold of that lease, anyway?” I stop her, pulling my hand from her grasp and spinning around to face her. “I asked you to quit snooping.”
“And I did, I swear,” Aria says. “I called Mason’s uncle three days ago asking if he had any of Mason’s things from before he left for New York, but I never heard back. But then I ran into Parker at the store yesterday, and he said he had a box of Mason’s old papers that he’d found in a desk upstairs and—” Aria breaks off with a sigh. “I knew I should tell him I wasn’t interested, but I thought there couldn’t be any harm in looking so…I did.”
“So you were finally able to find exactly what you were hoping to find,” I say, my eyes going dry as a terrible numbness begins to settle in my chest.
I remember this feeling from the first time I lost Mason. It’s a self-defense mechanism—my heart battening down the hatches, shutting out the pain before it gets too debilitating—but it won’t last forever. Sooner or later, the numbness will wear off and the pain will rush back in, hotter and more miserable th
an before.
“Lark, you have to believe me. I was hoping I wouldn’t find anything,” Aria says. “At the dinner the other night, Mason seemed so genuinely committed to you and you were so happy. Seeing that made me stop second-guessing him, and your relationship. I truly thought everything was going to be okay this time. Better than okay.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” I turn to go a second time, but Aria rushes around me, blocking the path to the door.
“Maybe not. He could be telling the truth. I know trusting him seems foolish when the evidence, and history, is working against him here. But maybe it’s less about blindly trusting him, and more about having faith in him. Do you? Have faith in him?”
“You’re the one who says people don’t change.” My fingers curl into fists at my sides. “Even if I wanted to have faith in him…even if he is telling the truth this time, I’ll never be a hundred percent sure. Not really. I’ll always wonder, and worry. Then after a while, I won’t be able to trust my own judgment when it comes to him, to us.”
Aria’s forehead furrows. “Lark, trust me, I’ve been there. That whole ‘hope for the best, but expect the worst’ saying? All that does is make you look for the other shoe to drop. Believe me, I know what that’s like. Mason was right about what he said—I am sad and broken. But he was wrong in thinking I want you two to be like me.”
“I was broken, remember? I already experienced it. And he was the one who broke me. How can I ever trust him fully? How?”
Sighing, she replies softly, “I can’t answer that for you. But I think, maybe, it’s a matter of simply wanting to. If you want to trust a person despite having reasons not to, I think there comes a point when you just have to decide to believe the best about them and…let go of the rest. Or at least move on from it.”
She grips my hand, holding my eyes with a long, searching look. “Because if you hang on too tightly to the pain of the past, those doubts become all-out fears you can’t control. And soon, that fear will prevent you from ever being able to trust him, or anyone, for that matter. I speak from experience on that last part.”