by T. N. King
Well, it was going to be one of those mornings then, he slid into his seat with another nod, subvertly checking over Nicole as he did so. Her eyes were puffy, half concealed by whatever shit she had put on her face to try and disguise it, but other than that and the abundance of makeup she was wearing that was all that he could see different. She was dressed more appropriately for some kind of social outing than she was the breakfast table, but he wasn’t about to tell her as much with so many witnesses in the room. So instead, he ate the pieces of his bacon one by one, watching as Marie finally came back to the table and slid into her own seat, slapping at Paul’s reaching hands as she did so.
So Aaron had helped with breakfast. It was juvenile to not want to eat any of it because of that, however he couldn’t quite squash the inclination down right away, looking over the spread with a carefully concealed distaste. One he could only have for so long as what looked to be mimosas were set down in front of each of them by the very helper himself, large grin stretching his face in a nearly animated style. He looked like an extra for a joker film, bouncing around the table like that and placing those drinks in front of each one of them as if they were prizes to behold. They were orange juice and champagne, they didn’t take a rocket scientist to mix. Now he’d be getting a lecture on alcohol before noon by Marie, which was really the only positive he could find in this entire breakfast debacle.
“We have a toast,” although apparently the fuckery hadn’t even started, Aaron standing behind Nicole’s chair with that mimosa clearly held aloft, his one hand holding that shoulder in front of him in a manner that Mason was sure was supposed to come across as affectionate. From where he was sitting, it just looked possessive. “An important announcement if you will,” drawing out the dramatics of the entire thing and annoying Mason even further with the way his voice lifted and lowered like he was proclaiming something of great importance, eyes dropping again to Nicole- even with her studied avoidance of meeting his gaze in return.
“Well spit it out honey,” Marie insisted, hand waving the air in front of her and that mimosa lifted readily. So much for her no alcohol before noon rule… Mason’s body leaning back slowly into the chair to prepare for whatever nonsense was sure to follow. “You’re leaving us all in suspense here.” Where they could stay, as far as Mason was concerned, but he wasn’t being asked- nor was he offering said opinion, fingering the stem of his champagne flute idly.
“I’m sorry, I’ve honestly never done this before,” laughed out of one side of Aaron’s mouth and Mason only just suppressing his grimace at the over-the-top acting being committed before they’d even had their coffee. Well… before he’d had his coffee. He was going to down this mimosa and then that would be the very next thing he consumed. “There’s only one time you can announce to your future in laws that they’re going to be your future in laws…” Finally dropping the dramatic act, and with such stark difference that it took Mason himself a moment longer than it should have to process. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one at the table either, a full three moments of silence before the noise and commotion broke out among the table.
Marie full upended the pan with the scrambled egg in it, nearly throwing herself across that table and wrapping her arms around Aaron’s torso haphazardly, her squeal only partially muffled by Aaron’s shirt. “MARRIED!!!” “Engaged Marie,” quickly amended by an also grinning Paul, his hand clapping Aaron in the shoulder a few more times than was strictly necessary before fully lifting Nicole out of her chair and into his arms, spinning her around that small space afforded between the breakfast table and the wall. “ENGAGED MARIE,” he repeated again, louder and laughing as Marie finally managed to get out of her chair and nearly climb Aaron in that hug.
They could stop repeating it, they could stop laughing and screaming their approval at any moment, Mason’s body sitting more rigidly within that chair than he should have allowed it to, slouch all but gone as he watched the happy proceedings before him. Happy. They were supposed to be, they looked enough like it, the four of them merging from the two hugs into one giant group hug. “Mom, you’re choking me!” Breathlessly giggled from somewhere up in the middle of it all, and Mason going unnoticed enough for him to lift that mimosa to his lips and drain the whole flute in one gulp.
Engaged. Like a dirty, soiled word, rotating around his mind harshly, as if the word itself could inflict actual damage. And it was. At least mentally, damaging his headspace in a way that he couldn’t even begin to follow, synopses firing at such rapid of a rate that he couldn’t do more than hold on to that bland, feigned indifference. He didn’t care, or at least he shouldn’t have cared, about anything that transpired between the two of them. He shouldn’t have cared that the pair of them were, after only a week of living together, planning on moving forward in that relationship—planning on making the relationship permanent.
Which meant that last night she had probably already known as much, which meant that the moment that he had thought they were having was probably nothing more than last minute jitters on her end, or a question as to why he was reacting in the manner that he was- any number of things that weren’t as he’d taken it. She’d probably jumped back as quickly as she had out of a mixture of shock and fear. Fear of Aaron seeing, fear of hurting his feelings, fear of trying to explain to him how any of it had happened in the first place, the possibilities were endless, and the bile rising up the back of his throat had only half to do with the still too large grin stretching over Aaron’s face. He used that still obvious break in all of their attention to push food around his plate, making it look as if he had eaten some amount of everything except for the scrambled eggs before standing. “Congratulations,” muttered as he passed their still entangled group, his ‘half-eaten’ plate deposited in the sink before anyone even turned to look at him.
All of his efforts to making it look like he had eaten for nothing, Marie throwing herself at him and receiving a one arm-press in return. “I’m late for my appointment, I’d love to stay.” Trailing off and passing Marie off to Paul, avoiding having to shake Aaron’s hand at all by repeating the gesture that he had seen Paul do earlier and clapping his shoulder with that same hand he had used to half-hug Marie. “But Dr. Friedrich isn’t any more a fan of being late than the courts are,” subtle jab at the necessity of him being there couched in what was meant to come across as humor. Something, with as turned around mentally as he was, he wasn’t sure he was pulling off.
“Oh, honey, you’re sure you c--” “Yes,” he interrupted Marie, patting her arm to cover the rudeness of cutting her off, hands as far away from Nicole as he could manage, even when she tried side-stepping into him like she was going to repeat her mother and attempt hugging him. He couldn’t have her hands on him, couldn’t stomach her asking for a congratulations that he didn’t feel was necessary, or believe was a good idea. He wasn’t happy for her, he wasn’t excited about that change in her life, he didn’t want to see her so much as smile at Aaron again, much less in a white dress as she proclaimed the rest of her life as belonging to Aaron. He wouldn’t be able to be there for it, would have to come up with some excuse as to his missing that day, but it was too far in the future for him to process in that moment, the rest of the goodbyes and congratulations on his way out a dull roar in the back of his head.
Background noise that only intensified so much the longer when he had to be inside of that house, with those people, celebrating whatever they were celebrating. Somehow, he made it to his car, although the distance he travelled in it between the Carter’s home and Dr. Friedrich’s office was nothing more than a blur of white lines between one driving zone and another. He had no idea if he had driven the speed limit, if he had crossed over one of those yellow lines, or even if he had managed to keep from running over any of the traffic cones in what he knew were construction zones. He did know that his car was parked crooked, half on the grass and half on the sidewalk in front of the office. He knew that Selma, Dr. Friedrich’s receptionist
had tried talking to him when he entered, just like he knew that she had tried to step between him and the hallway leading back to his office.
He didn’t know if he had physically moved her from his path, or if he had just been intimidating enough to force her to move on her own. He didn’t know much of anything between leaving the Carter’s house and stepping into that empty office, Dr. Friedrich sitting behind his desk with what looked like a log book and a cup of tea looking up surprised at him when he entered. “Mason? You’re not scheduled until the end of the week….” Trailing off into a much more concerned expression, his bushy brows drawing close on his forehead and his tea and logbook both set down on the desk in front of him simultaneously. “Mason, what’s wrong?” More hurried, half standing from that chair he’d been sitting in. “Is it Nicole? Has she been hurt?”
But he said the wrong words, mentioned the wrong name and scenario, all of that control that he had been binding himself so tightly in, all of his very carefully controlled movements and reactions shifted at just the mention of her name, at that first syllable, and absolutely decimated by the following words. The noise that left his mouth was nearly inhuman, something between a yell and a groan, his arm shooting forward and connecting with the back of a picture frame before he could think it through. “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HAS SHE BEEN HURT?!” His shoulder dropping to sweep that entire pile of things off of the desk completely. “OF COURSE SHE’S BEEN HURT! THAT’S THE WHOLE GODDAMN REASON I’M MANDATED TO TWO SESSIONS A WEEK AGAIN!” Another sweeping motion of his arm, the sound of metal, plastic, and paper on their collision course to the ground following his outbreak.
“All she fucking does…” His hand curling into a fist and slamming into the top of that desk. He was only vaguely aware of Dr. Friedrich stepping back, moving away from the desk entirely and to the window behind it instead. “Is allow herself to get hurt, he hits her and she lies and makes excuses! He sends her home with goddamn bruises and she has to cover them!” Fist slamming again into the desk and the laugh leaving his lips, more cruel than mirthful. “And then she fucking comes home last night,” another laugh out of his mouth even as his leg shot forward into the leg of the desk. “She comes home last night and tries to make up with me, or fucking pander to my wants and needs or some shit, to ease things over maybe, I don’t fucking know, one minute we were talking and then the next she’s in my fucking lap.” His whole body shifted, the shaking that had started in his core transmitting slowly throughout the rest of him, making those wild swings at the desk all the more uncoordinated.
“She fucking stayed. In my lap, with my fucking erection digging into her thigh, and leaned in, like she wanted it, like she wanted to kiss me, or for me to kiss her- or who the fuck knows what!” He wasn’t even aware of moving any longer, that office’s furniture taking his wrath without so much as him giving his muscles a by your leave to do so. “She fucking stayed there, and then Aaron came in, and all of a sudden she’s shooting back and going upstairs.” That laugh sounded more deranged than angry by that point, unaware entirely of the liquid leaking out of the corners of his eyes with his words.
“I fucking hate him, I hate that prick, I hate every single fucking thing about his psychotic ass, but I can’t say so, because no one can see him for what he really is. No one can see what a fucking nut job he really is, how manipulative, how fake-” His yelling had calmed, but not because he had, only because his physical motions were taking that much more out of him. His whole body near contorting in two for that next hit against the wood of the desk, the sound of grain splintering resounding with his last word.
“And then this morning they announce their engagement.” Hollow, his sinking to the floor in the middle of the ruined desk that used to be Dr. Friedrich’s, his whole frame slumping on the spot and looking around at the destruction he had caused. Thousands of dollars, a million splinters of wood and fabric- a mess of papers and supplies that had just been transformed in the hurricane that was his anger. “She was just… I don’t know, confused herself or something.” To have agreed to marry him and then lead Mason on like she had… if that had even been her intention… he wasn’t even sure he knew her any longer, what with all of the changes that had begun since beginning her relationship with Aaron.
“I’m sorry,” he intoned, nodding his head down towards the ruins of desk that he was sitting in, monotone and very nearly monosyllabic. “I know you were right now.” All of these years, he’d always known that Dr. Friedrich was right, he’d always been aware of the logic behind his statements and his assertions, only it was just now setting in with him just how dangerous his emotion towards her could be, was becoming. “I need to let her go. I need to get over those misplaced emotions.” For himself and her, for his ability to move forward and allow her to do the same before he destroyed whatever relationship he had with any and all of the Carters.
“I don’t even know if I imagined last night, or what of last night that I imagined,” blank, unseeing eyes staring at the tops of his hands, the rivulets of blood and splinters that decorated the split skin there. “I think I need help…” It would be the first time he had ever used that phrase, in this office or not, his voice broken up around each syllable, body collapsing even further to the floor beneath him. “.... Please….”
Chapter Ten
The routine was familiar, her checking out of the entryway mirror for the car that would be coming up the drive, checking the clock and reminding herself that sometimes his sessions just went longer than others. It was a routine she’d become familiar with over the years of Mason’s therapy, just like the worry that somehow the session had gone poorly and he would be asked to stay somewhere else again, for no matter how short of a time. She was familiar with it, but it never made it any easier, especially not today, especially not with last night and how things had shifted. Not with the news that had been broken over breakfast and his absolute lack of reaction to it.
It might have been expected, but it hadn’t hurt any less. Actually, his congratulations had hurt all the more. He wasn’t going to react one way or another in front of the others though, she was equally as familiar with that as she was this routine. He wouldn’t be offering his opinion to anyone other than her on the subject and that was the most important part of it. It’d been the whole reason she was pacing in front of this door, waiting for him to come home. So she could talk to him without all of the extra bodies and their ears and opinions, without all of the extra eyes on the two of them as she tried to get him to talk to her. To see if he was mad, for the night before or the engagement…either one.
She wanted to make sure he… understood, or that she could explain the night before somehow, make what had happened, what she’d done, what she had intended to do… make it okay, make the two of them okay. She didn’t know… anything other than that cold gaze meeting hers over the breakfast table for the short amount of time that it’d been allowed, anything other than his indifferent refusal to meet her gaze after the news had been delivered by Aaron like it had. ‘Just say yes’ echoing in her head as her mother and father had closed in to congratulate them. ‘Just say yes’, and she had, she’d just said yes, she’d agreed to something so much more permanent even than the year long lease that they’d signed together so close to campus.
Her fingers shifted, pushing against the tops of her thighs and smoothing that skirt down as if she could somehow ease her nerves with the motion. As if she could make words out of the mess in her head if only she could calm her body enough to do so. How did someone apologize for the things that she had done though? How was she supposed to go about explaining away her behavior? Explaining away the manner in which she had nearly thrown herself at him, despite his very slow reactions that she could have easily misread or misinterpreted… She didn’t have words for it any more than she had words for the way that she was pacing for the three that were inside now.
She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t still her thoughts, or even organize them into rationa
l order. She couldn’t stop picturing the way that Mason had looked at her, both before and after Aaron had arrived. She couldn’t stop trying to make sense of how it had come about, or if it had even come about in the manner that she thought it had, it wasn’t like it was the first time she had gotten lost in her own head concerning Mason and her own desire. Not that she liked to admit it, even to herself, not that she ever liked thinking about it… that one time. She had thought that it was a one off- or maybe she had convinced herself that it was, she didn’t know, she hadn’t been able to make sense of it even then.
She had thought it was just a hormonal shift, a side effect of getting older, or maybe of having been single for too long, the way that she had started noticing him. Like when he passed her in the hallway with just a towel around his waist and her mind replaying that scene for the rest of the day following. Like him standing behind her in the kitchen, pinching at her sides to get her to move so that he could get his own bowl and the way that her stomach had tightened from it. She’d done her best to ignore it then, she’d even gone over in her head how ridiculous she was being… but then it had just kept happening and building… she tried denying it, dismissing each instance as it came.
Right up until she couldn’t. They’d spent the whole day arguing, except that they weren’t really, even if her parents thought that they were, the way Mason’s lip had kept twitching she knew that he was amused. She’d hit at him and gotten poked in return, she’d pulled his hair and gotten the same done- only she’d had to bite back a noise she certainly shouldn’t have been making for having that done. It was fine, it was on the edge of not being, but it was fine until she had gone to take him water while he was mowing. He’d mowed the yard a million times since moving in, he’d been outside and her mother had her take him a glass of water a million times, but something about that day had been different. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him shirtless before.