by Stella Rhys
I could practically see the pictures in Mason’s head flickering behind his blue eyes. While a part of me ached for him and Clara, the other part was in awe of the fact that he’d just bared himself so honestly to me. Never in my life would I have imagined having a heart-to-heart with Mason Leo, let alone this kind of soul-baring conversation that served as basically an open door into his past – his whole being. My pulse picked up as I studied him, contemplating my own confession. I tried to tell myself it would be selfish to bring up now, so I pressed my lips together and tried to hold it in. But then without warning, it blurted out without my permission.
“I lost Aaron’s baby two years ago.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the sentence spoken aloud or the sheer hurt on Mason’s face that made my heart stop. His lips parted, opening and closing but saying nothing as he took in my words.
“It was three months after the break,” I went on quietly. “The one I told you about. I cried my eyes out when he asked for it because we’d just moved in together and I was so scared he was going to leave me. And then one night, he texted me and he said, ‘I’m sorry I’m weak.’ And considering how much Whitney was texting and calling him before our break, I knew he was about to go cheat on me with her. So I looked for him everywhere – I burned through four cabs and three trains in two hours just scouring the entire city for Aaron until I realized I wasn’t going to find him, and my relationship was over. So I called Sofia and we drank like crazy. But I lost control and I had too much. I wound up passing out on the floor of a public bathroom. I’d wake up only to vomit every once in awhile,” I confessed with a pause, disgusted as I remembered the smell of that night. “Fuck, I wish I didn’t just tell you that,” I whispered, my face hot with shame.
“Hey. Don’t,” Mason murmured, pulling me right onto his lap. Straddling him now, I found my face so close to his that I couldn’t help but believe him when he said, “I want to hear. I want to know the things that have happened to you, Taylor, so tell me and don’t for a second be ashamed.”
I swallowed the ball of emotion in my throat. “Okay,” I breathed, taking a moment to figure out how to go on. His hands rubbed my back gently. I closed my eyes for a moment to soak in his comfort but then swallowing again, I went on. “Basically Sofia couldn’t get me up on her own and the people at the bar were closing up and yelling for her to get me the hell out. And I was half dead from drinking so much, but I remember panicking for her and thinking that if Aaron came to get me, and if he somehow didn’t cheat, I’d take him back and we’d start over. Long story short, he came. I heard his voice comforting me when he picked me up off the floor and I could hardly open my eyes but I could feel he was sorry. In the cab, I asked if he still loved me and he said yes. And in the morning, he was sitting at my bedside taking care of me.” I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing steady so I could muster up the courage for what I was about to say next. “But within a week, I knew it was a mistake.”
“What was?” Mason asked softly.
“Taking him back. He came to get me, he didn’t cheat, and he was so good to me. He did everything he could to make it up to me and we were communicating better than ever. But I still felt this weird disconnect. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple – that he was the sweetest boyfriend. And aside from that night, or maybe because of that night, he was. He was the best boyfriend to me but I didn’t want him anymore, and I didn’t know how to reconcile those feelings because he was being more honest than ever, spending every minute away from work with me and taking me on all my dream trips. But for some reason, I didn’t feel like I loved him anymore, and it took so much courage, but I finally decided I needed to leave. But then – ” Out of nowhere, tears choked my throat. Struggling to finish, Mason did for me.
“You got pregnant,” he murmured, his hands brushing the hair out of my face, his eyes on me even though I couldn’t look at him. “You took it as a sign that you should be with him.”
“If anything, I thought it would fix us. I thought it would make me feel that love I felt for him before the break,” I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks. “And it worked. At least I thought it did but I realize now it was just the joy being pregnant. Of carrying another life in my stomach and thinking about what I’d name my baby, how I’d dress him if he was a boy or if she was a girl. I fantasized so much about being the mother I never had and it made me feel so good. I felt all the life and joy and energy I couldn’t find in my relationship with Aaron before we got pregnant.”
But then I lost it.
Him.
It was only after the miscarriage that Aaron and I found out the sex of the baby. He cried harder when he realized it was a boy. We both cried, really, for what felt like weeks on end. He was in pain himself, but he was my rock at that time. I had no one else to talk to – Lori was pregnant herself and I knew it had to be in poor taste to cry to her about it. So I didn’t. Sofia was understanding, but I knew it tortured her that she didn’t know what to say or how to make me stop crying. I knew also that it was hard for her to listen to the details because while she knew what miscarriage was, she didn’t know exactly how it happened.
Neither had I before it did. No one had ever told me that I could lose my baby, know he was gone and still have to wait to pass him through my body. No one told me what it felt like to carry something lifeless inside you, nor did they talk about the bleeding – just how much there was during and even after the fact. But worst of all, no one warned me about how hard I would hang onto the memory of that last good ultrasound. I could still hear it if I wanted to. At ten weeks, my baby was still bobbing happily inside my belly. His heart was still beating and the whole world was still ahead of him.
But then just a couple days later, he was gone. And I was inconsolable.
Aaron did his best though. In fact, he did an incredible job. He got permission to leave the office an hour early every day so he could spend as much time with me as possible. We named our son, bought him a blanket and said our goodbyes to get closure. And from that point forward, I felt like Aaron and I were a team. Together, we’d gotten through the lowest point of our lives and grown a million times stronger as not just individuals, but as a couple. Those who did know about my miscarriage told me I was lucky to have the support I had from Aaron. Losing the life inside you was hard enough on its own. It would be harder without having someone so reliably there for you.
And I knew that was true.
“But I still felt completely out of love with him,” I cried softly, confessing the words to Mason that I was so ashamed of. “After all we went through and all he did for me, I still didn’t feel right with him. I should have been appreciating him and thanking God for him, but all I could do was hate the fact that I didn’t leave him when I had the chance because then I could have avoided all the pain. I wouldn’t have to know what all of it felt like,” I sobbed, loathing myself. My baby had already lost his chance at the world – he didn’t need to know that his mother wished he’d never happened at all. It was selfish and pointless and painful, and I did my best to repent for those thoughts by being good to Aaron. By staying with him, reminding myself of how good he was and suffocating all thoughts of regret. I did it so well for awhile. I convinced myself we were perfect.
But then I woke up one morning and he was gone.
“Hey.” Mason’s whisper was intense, pleading as he cupped my face in his hands. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Taylor. You can’t,” he urged me, thumbing the tears that streamed incessantly down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” His voice was filled with emotion I didn’t know existed anywhere in that rock solid body. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you. I don’t know the pain. I never will but I remember the nights my mother cried. I’ll never forget how hard it was and I’d give anything to take those memories away from her. From you. But we can’t rewind on the past and trust me, I fucking hate it, too,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. My eyes were shut but his lips were close. I could feel them
– almost taste them and it soothed me. Not completely, but enough for the tears to slow down. They finally stopped, but Mason kept my cheek in his hands and his fingers brushed through my hair. “We face probably a hundred forks in the road over the course of our lives and I guarantee you no one has ever lived to make the right decision every time. But you can’t get the past back and you can’t spend your life wishing you could. You just have to trust that if you’re not in the right place right now, the steps you take from this point forward will get you there.” He wet his lips when I finally met his gaze again. “Eventually, at least. Right?”
Staring at my hands on his chest, I nodded, surprised to find his simple words lifting the weight in my chest. “I think so.”
He nodded, quiet for a moment, studying me as I let the hiccups pass and breathe deep again. When the calm returned, I looked up at Mason, remembering the last time I had cried in front of him. It was in my apartment, after processing the news of Aaron’s wedding. Mason had barely looked at me as the tears rolled down my cheeks, only concerned with getting his chance to speak once I was done being needy and emotional. God, it really wasn’t that long ago, but it felt like the Mason then was the stranger to me – not the Mason sitting before me now, stroking my cheek and brushing any strands of hair from my face that had matted to my skin from the tears.
“Thank you,” I whispered, realizing as the words came out that it was my first time saying them to Mason in person, and meaning it with every ounce of me, from the bottom of my heart. It felt like a little turning point for us, and maybe he realized it too because he looked at me in a way I’d never seen before. It couldn’t pin what the expression was, but it made me feel damned good. Warm and safe. Almost loved. Sliding my hands up on his body, I hung them on his strong shoulders. “I didn’t think I’d ever say any of that out loud to someone. And I don’t know why but I’m actually…” I trailed off, hoping I hadn’t set my sentence up to sound like an insult. “I’m actually glad it was you,” I finally murmured. But then I winced. That sounded wrong. I kept my eyes down for a moment, bracing for Mason’s smart reply.
But when I looked up again, he kissed me. His lips were so hot against mine I promptly lost every other thought I had a moment ago. I was more than fine with that. My arms around his neck, I kissed Mason back, moaning softly against his lips, luxuriating in the strength of both his arms wrapped so tight around my waist it felt like I was somewhere else – on our own island, the only ones who were breathing this air, the only one ones who could come close to understanding the gratification of the moment. He’d kissed me the other night at Noah’s but this felt different – just as urgent but somehow softer. Easier. My body melted into his and I felt an odd sense of being okay, of belonging – as if I, for the first time in a long time, were finally and actually in the right place.
Chapter Thirteen
I felt oddly superstitious about it, but the next morning, I told Sofia the truth about everything. I had the green light from Mason and even if I didn’t, I couldn’t bear to keep her in the dark anymore. After all the demons that came out last night at the Victorian Hotel, it felt like I’d reached a breaking point and I couldn’t stand for anything but honesty anymore. At least with the ones I loved.
And to my absolute relief, Sofia wasn’t angry.
Curled up with two mugs of coffee at the café under her East Village apartment, we touched on every point of my arrangement with Mason with very little fanfare, which was surprising considering Sofia liked to gasp, squeal and flail around about everything. But there was none of that today. After taking a quiet moment to finally let it all sink in, she only said, “This explains a lot of Noah’s comments.”
I had to laugh. “What has he said?”
Sofia squinted as she sipped her spiced latte. “God, I can’t even remember now. So many things here and there – like how Mason ‘screwed himself’ or how he’s ‘actually whipped now. I don’t know. Basically a lot of surprise over Mason’s behavior, which is clearly a good thing for you,” Sofia snorted. “Considering Mase’s history with women and the fact that his best friend of ten years doesn’t recognize the way he’s acting with you right now, I’d say you guys are a little realer than you think,” she said, grinning and pointing at the look on my face. “And you’re clearly happy about that because like I said even before I knew the truth, you really like that motherfucker. Like, beyond the physical. You like him, like him.”
I couldn’t even make fun of Sofia’s elementary school terms for my feelings because it was fucking true. Geez. When and how did this happen? If I could transport myself back in the past and tell myself that one day, I’d be thinking all day about Mason Leo, missing him and aching for the comfort it felt like only he could provide, I’d tape my own mouth shut and call myself a filthy liar. Then again, if I could transport myself into the past, I’d probably have bigger priorities, like saying “no” to a break from Aaron and suggesting a full on breakup.
But as we touched on that subject, Sofia corrected me. “If you’d broken up with Aaron then, you would’ve never had the chance to discover that Mason was the good brother. The one you were supposed to be with.”
I chewed on the corner of my nail. “Let’s… not talk too far into the future. I’m definitely enjoying myself with Mason right now but you can’t let me get swept up off my feet and think about a serious or long-term relationship with him. My stomach gets all weird and twisty when I even start to fantasize about that.”
“But we already established that he’s never acted this way with any woman before. He was with Eva Tully for six months and she said the longest conversation about his life that she ever squeezed out of him lasted like three minutes. And he was just talking about the first Yankees game he went to as a kid, because they were at a Yankees game,” Sofia revealed. “Trust me, that woman complained extensively to me about him before she got dumped and decided to trash his office and draw giant dicks on his door.”
I laughed at the imagery in my head but I couldn’t help but feel bad for Eva. “Six months dating someone and not being let in. That’s tough.”
“Yeah, well she stuck it out because she liked the idea of becoming Mrs. Mason Leo. And I get it – who wouldn’t? He’s got money and he’s handsome.”
“That’s… wow. A severe understatement.”
Sofia smirked. “I’m sure that’s true and I realize you’re all defensive of your boyfriend now,” she teased, “but cut me some slack, he’s my cousin and I don’t see him the way you thirst hos do. Besides, you’re detracting from my point, which is that he’s gone many years knowing exactly what works for him in terms of dating. I know it seems like he goes through women like they’re snotty tissues or something, but it’s just because he refuses to lead anyone on or get in a relationship, lose interest and wind up cheating. Not after what he saw his mom through growing up.”
“So what are you telling me here? That I have permission to ask him if he wants to date me for real? If we’re still going to see each other after the wedding?”
I had hoped that Sofia would give me a resounding “yes” and demand what I was waiting for, but instead she crinkled her nose and tilted her head from side to side as she thought about it. “No, don’t do that yet,” she finally concluded. “Sit-down talks freak men out no matter what they’re thinking or how they’re feeling, so I’d avoid one of those till you’ve gone through a little more. At least get past the St. Lucia trip before you have that conversation.”
I heaved a sigh. “Fair enough.”
“In the meantime though, you have my permission to have sex with the man.”
“Oh, I was waiting for your permission?” I teased. She turned her nose up and feigned sass.
“No, but you could certainly use my very valid opinion, which is that he’s more than proved he cares about you and isn’t trying to buy sex from you. Whatever’s going on between you guys definitely equals at least three dates in real life now, and as you know, that is the ma
gic number you wait till you have sex with someone, so… have sex with him. You know you want to.”
I pressed my palms hard against the heat of my mug. “I do,” I groaned, flashing back to that morning I woke up in Mason’s bed and got to watch him walk around in just a towel. God, those fucking abs. Those hipbones. They were cut so deep, a perfect V that teased me like two arrows pointing furiously at the main attraction. God, I wanted so badly to finally just touch that main attraction.
“Taylor. For the tenth time – inappropriate for you to make these sex faces in front of me.”
I caught myself quickly. “I was definitely doing it that time,” I admitted sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just give yourself the relief of having actual sex with him so I don’t have to see you look at squirmy and tortured.”
“Noted,” I said, my cheeks burning at the mere thought of allowing myself to sleep with Mason. Heat flashed all throughout me as I imagined how it’d feel to have the weight of his body on mine, both of us undressed, skin touching skin.
The image refused to leave my head that night when Mason came to my apartment. It was late, nearly midnight and we’d both had long days, so we sat together on my couch with a bottle of wine, the dinner he brought and a movie we weren’t quite watching on TV. Our energy was low but the air between us was still thick, still buzzing with the tension of sex, desire and the words we were either too tired or wary to say. I was amazed by how hot it felt despite the languid quiet – how the sleepiness in the room managed to put more heat in every word he spoke, every look we exchanged.