He was gone.
Bryson and I had spent an incredible night together, and he’d woken up the next morning as if nothing had happened. He’d gone to work. On a Sunday. Instead of spending the day with me. Sure, we hadn’t specifically made plans, but we were married, were plans really necessary? I figured it was a given that you spent your time off together, especially when we’d had so little of that lately.
And what was with that poor excuse of a note? Talk later? What the hell did we have to talk about? He’d abandoned me. Again. For work. And it wasn’t like he was a doctor who might be on call or any other kind of profession that could have you working odd hours. He was an accountant. Something that should be a regular five days a week, nine-to-five job, that somehow my husband made into a round-the-clock profession.
Was he trying to avoid me?
Did he regret last night?
Didn’t it mean something to him?
Because to me, it meant we could start getting back to being us. Back to being the couple that was crazy in love and passionate about each other. Not the barely friendly strangers we’d become.
Maybe he was seeing someone else. Maybe he’s with her now. He said he wasn’t cheating, but then, where was he?
The questions and emotions swirled violently in my head as scenario after scenario played out before me.
And to top it all off, he’d made himself coffee, and left nothing but burnt sludge for me. And a dirty mug.
I eyed the pale blue coffee cup with contempt.
I picked it up to place in the dishwasher when anger and the brutal unfairness of it all welled up inside me. So, instead, I spun around and hurled it at the wall. It shattered on impact, raining shards of ceramic onto the cold tile floor and I smiled in satisfaction.
My phone chimed with an incoming message and I pulled it from my pajama pants while I tiptoed around the mess I made that I refused to clean up. If he wanted to make a mess of my insides, I’d make a mess of his favorite fucking mug.
Mason: Hey pretty girl! I’m in your neighborhood and wanted to see if you want to get brunch with me.
Mason.
God, what a mess.
I couldn’t believe how protective he’d been last night. How he’d stood up to Bryson and almost caused a scene over me. It was equal parts embarrassing and flattering.
A large part of me knew that having brunch with Mason was a bad idea. It would give him the wrong impression and further complicate an already sticky situation. But, another, more insistent part of me needed out of this house.
I couldn’t take another minute of the cold silence. Couldn’t sit around waiting for Bryson to feel like coming home. Couldn’t stand the thought of being alone while all these thoughts and fears and accusations and theories ricocheted around my head.
Me: Meet me at Oliver’s in an hour?
His reply was instant.
Mason: Can’t wait.
I stepped inside the warm restaurant exactly an hour later to find Mason already there, saving a table for us. I nodded at the hostess and made my way toward Mason, trying to ignore the appreciative way he was looking at me. He stood when I reached the table and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on my cheek.
No matter the brevity, the show of affection surprised me.
“Hey, Kenny. You look beautiful today.”
I looked down at what I was wearing and felt my face heat. I couldn’t deny that I’d gone out of my way to look nice, pairing an olive-green off the shoulder sweater dress with thigh-high boots, leaving a sliver of leg showing. My makeup had taken me longer than usual as did my hair. I hadn’t thought of it as dressing up for Mason but dressing up for myself.
I’d woken up feeling great, only to have those happy feelings crash and burn within a matter of minutes. Bryson had left me feeling ugly and used, and I wanted my appearance to be the exact opposite. It was just a coincidence that Mason was the recipient of my efforts to make myself feel better. That’s what I tried to convince myself of, at least.
“Thanks, Mason. Have you been here long?”
He waited until I slid into the booth before retaking his own seat.
“Not at all. Thanks for meeting me.”
I shrugged and picked up a menu. “I needed to get out of that house,” I muttered.
Ever attentive, Mason heard me loud and clear.
“Huh. After last night, I’m surprised he let you out of the house. I figured he’d have you locked up somewhere,” he laughed half-heartedly.
I rolled my eyes. “Nope. Nothing like that.”
I could see Mason eyeing me, but I kept my gaze focused on my menu. “Did something happen last night?”
“What do you mean?” I asked offhandedly.
Mason reached over and lowered my menu, so I had to meet his eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
I shook his hand off my menu and picked it back up. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mason. Of course, he didn’t hurt me.”
He sighed. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Who said anything’s wrong?”
He pulled my menu down again to meet my eyes. “Kenny, I know you and I know something’s wrong.”
I huffed out a breath and tossed my menu onto the table. “What are you really asking, Mason?”
He leaned back in his chair. “I just want to make sure he hasn’t hurt you.” I opened my mouth to respond when he cut me off. “And I don’t just mean physically.”
I snapped my mouth closed and looked away, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t think you really want to know what happened.”
Mason reached over and tugged one of my hands free and pulled it across the table. When he looked down and saw my wedding rings on the hand he held, he tried to suppress a wince, but I saw it. He covered my hand with his own, like he was trying to hide the sight of them.
“If it involves you, of course I want to know.”
I took my hand back and sighed, pretending not to notice the way Mason’s lips thinned when I pulled away from him.
“When we got back from the party, Bryson was…” I looked away, trying to find a suitable word. “Passionate.” Mason winced, but I continued. “Things hadn’t been like that between us in months and it was…” I trailed off again, having trouble finding the right way to describe this to Mason of all people. “Nice,” I finished lamely.
Why was this so hard?
Mason and I were friends, right? I should be able to talk to him about this and not feel so awkward. Maybe it was because he was a man that this was weird? Maybe I was out of practice talking about my love life? But, then why was it so easy to talk to Josie about this stuff?
These questions circled around my head as I tried to suppress the real problem here. That I knew Mason had feelings for me.
“You slept with him?” he whispered harshly.
My eyes snapped to his. “Uh, yes?”
Mason leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw roughly. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that.”
I frowned. “He’s my husband, Mason.”
His jaw ticked. “I know that, Mackenzie. I just can’t believe after the way he acted, and after everything that we’ve–” He cut himself off, letting the sentence die right there on the table between us.
I was stunned silent.
Did Mason think there was more between us than there was? Did this little crush of his go deeper than I thought? Had I given him the wrong impression? What was I doing here with him, anyway?
I slid to the end of the booth. “I think I should go,” I murmured.
Mason grabbed my arm before I could rise from my seat. “No!” I raised a brow at him and he shook his head roughly. “No. Please. Stay. I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard.”
I tentatively sat back down but kept my purse on my lap, so I could make a quick escape if I needed to.
“Listen, Kenny, I asked you to brunch for a reason. After last night, I realized there was something I need to get off my chest. Something I think you
should know.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
Where was this going?
I had this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that whatever Mason had to say wasn’t something I wanted to hear. That his next words would change everything as I knew it and I didn’t know if I was ready for that.
Mason took a deep breath, and the words rushed out of him. “Kenny, I like you. A lot. More than a lot. And I want to be with you.”
“What?” I deadpanned.
He held up both hands and hurried on. “Please, let me explain.” When I remained silent, he continued. Little did he know I couldn’t have spoken even if I wanted to. “I’ve felt this way for a while and after last night, I knew I needed to tell you. I need you to know you have options. That if you want, you have me.”
“Mason, I–”
“You don’t need to say anything now!” he interrupted. “Just… think about it. Think about us and how things could be.”
“Mason–” I tried again.
He reached out and grabbed my hand, the one without wedding rings. “I know this is scary. And I know this may be a bit of a surprise.”
Was it though?
“But, I have very real, strong, deep feelings for you. And I can see how good we could be together. I know it. If you just gave me a chance, we could be amazing. All I want you to do is think about it.”
I pulled my hand back. “Mason, I’m married.”
He shook his head angrily. “You act like that’s something that can’t change. Plenty of people get divorced and find love again. You can too. And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”
“You’re asking me to get a divorce?”
He frowned. “Well, yeah. I’m not going to share you with him.”
“This is ridiculous. You don’t even know if I want to be with you and you’re already planning my divorce.”
Mason leaned forward and hit me with those incredible blue eyes of his. “I know you want me, Kenny. It’s obvious. It’s in the way you look at me, how we talk, how we connect. I know we would be great together if you just gave us a shot.”
I slid out of the booth so fast, I think I burned the back of my bare thighs. “I have to go,” I announced.
Mason went to grab my hand again, but I pulled out of reach. “Kenny, just think about it.”
“I have to go,” I repeated.
It was the only series of words I could get past my frozen lips. I needed to go. Needed to get away from Mason, and this conversation, and this confession, and this life-altering mess he’d just dropped in my lap.
“I have to go,” I said once more as I spun on my heel and practically ran out of the restaurant.
My head was a confusing mess of thoughts and feelings, none of which I could properly decipher.
Mason wanted to be with me.
Where the hell had that come from?
How had we gone from coworkers, to friends, to me leaving my husband for him?
I felt like my life was a runaway train and I was the idiot on horseback, trying to catch up.
Nothing was as it should be. Bryson was pulling away again, Mason was trying to sidle his way between us, and I was left in the middle, not knowing which way to turn.
On the one hand, was my husband and partner of over nine years. I’d been through so much with Bryson, I couldn’t imagine being with another man. We’d made vows, and I’d meant them to my core.
But, things had changed between us.
At some point, we’d been thrown off track. We’d lost our way, and after he’d left me so carelessly this morning, I was afraid we’d been steered so far off course, that we couldn’t find our way back again.
Then there was Mason. Someone who was buying me concert tickets, seeking me out at every opportunity, texting me as often as possible, taking me to brunch. Someone who wanted my time. Someone who wanted me.
Do I ignore that in favor of a marriage that was crumbling faster than I could repair it? Do I let myself feel things for a man that isn’t my husband?
I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions.
Was there a right answer? Or just one that was less wrong than the other? With a heavy heart, and a heavier mind, I drove away from one man who was begging me to want him, toward an empty house and hopefully a man that still wanted me.
Chapter 13
Present
Bryson didn’t come home until well after dinner. I’d spent that time ordering takeout, binge-watching The Bachelor, and drinking a whole bottle of wine.
The thoughts that had plagued me since my disastrous brunch with Mason still swirled viciously through my brain, but now, soaked in wine, they were a lot quieter.
I was no closer to a solution. Should I try to dissuade Mason? Or stop talking to him all together? I was afraid that Mason was right that my marriage really was over and wondered if I should be looking toward divorce. The word alone sent ice through my veins.
“Mackenzie?” Bryson called.
I hadn’t heard him come in over the thunderous thoughts in my head.
I ignored him. He’d given me the silent treatment all day, and that’s what he’d get tonight.
When he finally entered the living room, his eyes slowly moved over the takeout containers strewn across the coffee table, along with the tipped over bottle of wine, and the mound of used tissues. “Mackenzie?”
He sounded confused.
Well, join the fucking club, buddy.
“Bryson.”
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, you know. Just waiting for my husband to remember he has a wife at home who’s been waiting on him all day.” Bryson opened his mouth to respond, but I wasn’t done yet. I waved my hand over the empty bottle of merlot. “I drank that wine we’d been saving, by the way. I figured, what the hell are we saving it for, anyway? Not like there’s anything to celebrate around here, right?”
“Mackenzie, what’s going on with you?”
I bolted upright and speared him with a sharp look. “What’s going on with me? You really need to ask that?”
He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Is this about last night?”
“Actually, it’s about this morning.”
“This morning?” He looked so confused, I almost pitied him. “I left before you even woke up. What could I have done this morning?”
I jumped to my feet. “Exactly! You left before I was even awake. Just couldn’t wait to get back to your calculators and graphs, huh Brys?”
“What are you talking about?”
I growled in frustration and pulled at my hair. “Why did you leave today? Can you just tell me that?”
“I had work to do.”
“On a Sunday? You had to go into the office today? This couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”
He sighed. “Okay, maybe I was avoiding you a little.”
My body deflated at his words. At the confirmation that he didn’t want to be with me. “Why?” I asked in a small voice.
He leaned against the doorframe, still not entering the room. “I was embarrassed by my behavior last night. For that, I owe you an apology.”
“Why?” I asked again.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I shouldn’t have dragged you out of your office party, and,” he gulped, “attacked you that way when we got home.”
“Are you kidding me?” I yelled. “That’s the best sex I’ve had in a year!”
Bryson frowned and shook his head. “My behavior was abhorrent, Mackenzie, and I’m sorry.”
“Bryson last night was the first time I’ve felt any kind of connection to you in months. And you’re telling me you regret it?”
“I regret my actions, yes. You deserve to be treated with more respect than that.”
I laughed humorlessly. “I could do with less respect and more passion if that’s what it takes.”
His brows dipped low over his hazel eyes. “You want me to treat you disrespectfull
y?”
“I want you to treat me passionately, Bryson. I want that fire in your eyes, your sharp tongue, your dirty mouth. I want that Bryson. I want the man I married, not the pale imitation I’ve had to live with these past few months.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mackenzie. I don’t understand why you’d want me to treat you badly. What are you thinking?”
I threw my hands in the air and stalked past him. “You’re right, Bryson, what am I thinking? Why would I want some passion in my life?”
Bryson watched me pass with a shrewd look in his eyes. “You’re dressed nicely. Did you go somewhere today?”
I spun on my heel and planted my hands on my hips. “Well, since I woke up to an empty house, when I got in an invitation to brunch, I took it.”
“Who’d you go with?”
I thought about lying for a second, but then I remembered the reaction Mason had caused in him last night and thought it might work again.
I tilted my chin up. “Mason.”
Bryson’s jaw tightened, but there was no other indication of his feelings. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Yeah, we had a great time,” I lied, hoping to goad him into a reaction. When there wasn’t one, I continued. “He wanted to finish a conversation we were having last night when you interrupted us.”
One side of Bryson’s jaw was ticking a steady beat, but the rest of him was still emotionless. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yep.” I turned to leave but had one last thing I wanted to say to him. “Just so you know, Bryson, if you don’t want to be with me, there are others who do.”
“Is that a threat, Mackenzie?”
I shook my head sadly. “That’s the truth.”
I left Bryson there and walked upstairs to go to bed. I’d hoped to get to sleep early, but it eluded me.
After hours of tossing and turning, Bryson finally came into the bedroom. I listened to him quietly get ready for bed while I lay there, waiting to see what he’d do. A few minutes later he pulled the covers back and laid down on his side of the bed, leaving a wide space between us.
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