by Amali Rose
My hands tighten around my coffee mug, and I flinch slightly at her words.
Had it been ridiculous? I look around my mother’s tiny apartment full of used furnishings and well-loved knick-knacks. I only ever wanted to give her the life she deserved. One of comfort and beautiful things. The one she lost all hope of when she fell in love with an asshole and had me.
As if sensing where my thoughts are going, she places a hand on my forearm, and squeezes gently.
“I love that you wanted to take care of me. You have such a kind heart, Mason. But it’s not a child’s job to look after their parent; and I never could have allowed you to do so when I knew how miserable those choices were making you.” Mom’s eyes are soft, and full of love.
“Yeah, Cassidy helped me realize that what I was doing was pointless. Then when Stella pulled that shit, and Jonathan supported it, it was like a wake-up call.” Bringing the mug to my lips, I swallow down some coffee. “The worst thing is, I’m not sure they’re wrong. Six months ago, fuck, even four months ago, I might have used that information in exactly the same way.” I gnaw on my bottom lip as I consider what I just said. “No, the worst thing is, I’m not convinced I didn’t know what Stella would do with the information.”
Mom sits silently, mulling over what I just confided.
“You can’t change the past, sweetheart. Whether you did, or didn’t, is irrelevant now. Make sure you’ve learned from it, though. Make it count for something.” Taking my now empty mug from me, she moves to the kitchen sink, and places our dirty dishes inside.
“I don’t know if Cassidy will be as forgiving.” Two days after our confrontation, she’s still refusing my calls.
Turning around, she crosses her arms across her chest and fixes me with a stern look. “It sounds like you have some wooing to do now, my boy.”
A smile is playing on her lips, so I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Wooing?”
“Every woman likes to be wooed, Mason. If I only teach you one thing in this life, let it be that.” Crossing the tiny space between us, she places a kiss on the top of my head, and pulls me in for a hug.
“I like her, Mason. She’s a fierce little smartass, and she’s exactly what you need. So you make sure that you woo her ass off.”
Running up the steps to Cassidy’s apartment building, I grab the door before it closes behind the elderly lady ahead of me.
I’m nervous as I make my way to her floor. She’s still ignoring my calls, leaving me frustrated. I can’t understand where her head is right now, and I’m worried that if we don’t actually come face to face, she’s going to run.
We might have only been together a few months, but I know my girl. I know how scared she was to take a chance on this relationship, and I don’t want her to use this as an excuse to retreat back to her former life of casual flings, as a way of avoiding getting hurt.
I reach her door, and my hands tighten around the small bouquet of daisies in my hands. Taking a deep breath, I knock.
There is the sound of movement inside, and then the gentle thud of hands landing on the door. I imagine her on the other side, looking through the peephole, and I will her silently to open the door.
Nothing. The door remains unmoving.
“Cassidy.” Her soft sigh is audible through the door, and it urges me on. “Open the door, Crazy. We need to figure this out, and that’s not going to happen through a door.” Silence is her only response.
“I fucked up, Cassidy, I warned you I would, and I’m sure it won’t be the last time I do. But we need to talk so we can move past it. Your stubborn ass needs to talk to me.” There is a huff of indignation from inside the apartment, and I smirk at the sound.
“Let me in, Crazy.”
“I can’t. Not yet. I’m sorry.”
Fuck.
“You remember that night I told you I owned you? Well, I was wrong. You fucking own me, Crazy, and I’m not letting you go without a fight. I can out stubborn your ass any day of the week. So, I’ll leave, but I will be back.”
Placing the flowers by her door, I turn and walk away, already plotting my next move.
Cassidy
“It’s such a beautiful day,” Layla’s voice is all dreamy as she lies on the blanket, arms behind her head, gazing up at the clear blue sky.
We’re in the park behind my parent’s house, enjoying a picnic on this beautiful Fall day. The sun is shining, taking the bite out of the crisp air, and I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in days.
“Mmm, it really is, this was a great idea, Cass.” Skye’s head is lying in my lap. “How’s the kitchen search going?”
A small smile graces my lips, and the sensation almost feels weird. I haven’t been smiling too much lately. “Great, actually. I think I’ve found something.”
Skye bolts up, and Layla and Wyatt both turn my way.
“That’s fantastic, sweetie! Where is it?” Wyatt questions.
“It’s only nine blocks from my place, which is great. It’s only a small commercial kitchen, but it’s big enough for what I need. It even has a small shop front so I’m going to put in some display cases and sell a small selection of cupcakes every day.” I grimace. “Well, hopefully sell them, anyway.”
I sit quietly as my girls gush over me, but I struggle to match their enthusiasm. I wasn’t supposed to be doing this by myself, and every decision I make, every milestone I achieve just reminds me what, or who, is missing.
“You were so lucky you got that business loan, CJ.”
“Pfft, fuck luck, Lay. Between my savings, the contract I have and the business plan Spanky helped me with, they had no choice but to say yes.”
“It was pretty impressive, even Ben thought so.” Ah, Skyeballs. She always has my back.
“How are you doing with everything else, Cassidy?” Wyatt asks.
It’s been two weeks since my fight with Mason. Two of the longest fucking weeks of my life. He’s turned up at my apartment a few times, but it always ends in a silent stand-off before he finally leaves. I guess I proved who is the most stubborn. Despite my continued silence, he calls every day, sometimes more than once, and always leaves a message. I haven’t listened to any of them; I just can’t yet. Skye keeps urging me to talk to him, telling me there’s things I need to know, but refusing to tell me what. Which only serves to piss me off.
“I’m getting by, Red. That’s really all I’ve got right now.” My voice is tinged with sadness.
“When are you going to hear him out, CJ?” My head snaps to Layla, and I can’t contain my shock at her tone.
“What the hell is up your nose?”
“What did he do that was so freaking bad?” Layla’s brow is furrowed, and her mouth pursed. So, this is what my baby sister looks like pissed.
“He took something I told him, and he used it to play God with somebody’s life, Layla. That’s what he did.”
“No, he didn’t. He told someone he thought he could trust. He did exactly what you did when you told him. You can’t hold him responsible for what that person did.”
Skye and Wyatt’s eyes are wide and bouncing between the two of us. This is not usual behavior for the Jensen sisters.
“He knew what she would do.” I see Skye shake her head in the periphery of my vision, and my temper flares even further. “He knew.”
“Did he? Or are you sabotaging your first real relationship since Aidan died?” My sharp intake of breath is instinctual, and I hear a gasp to my left; but Layla ignores our reaction and rushes on. “You and Aidan barely knew each other, Cassidy. You spent four months getting drunk together, and fucking each other in random places on campus. I know you thought you loved him. I know you thought losing him broke you. But if you don’t fix things with Mason, I think you’ll find out what broken really feels like.” Gathering up her things, Layla mutters goodbye to the others, before turning her attention back to me. “Don’t mess this up, CJ. You’ll always regret it if you do.” With that she turns and stalks off as quickl
y as her little legs will take her.
We sit there in silence for a while, all of us digesting what just happened.
“I always knew she would explode one day.” Wyatt’s voice is matter-of-fact, and we all burst out laughing.
“What the hell was that?” I exclaim. Skye and Wyatt share a look that has my defences rising. “What?”
“Okay, don’t hate us, Cass, but could she have a point? I think we all figured you two would be back together by now. I’m not quite sure why you’re being so stubborn about this?” Wyatt is nodding her head in agreement. “He asks Ben about you every time he sees him. I’m sorry, Cass, but I think you’re being unfair.”
“How can I trust him again, after what he did?”
“Cassidy, you’re overreacting.” Wyatt’s voice is firm. “I think you fell in love with him, and you got scared. So now you’re leaving him before he leaves you.”
“Or is taken from you,” Skye interrupts.
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “No, I have every right to be angry about this.”
“Of course you do. But this is not an end-your-relationship obstacle, Cassidy. This is a blowout fight, silent treatment for a few days and then crazy-makeup-sex obstacle. Sweetie, you’re punishing yourself right along with him. And honestly? Neither of you deserve it.”
“You love him, Cass.” Skye moves over behind me, and wraps her arms around me. “He lit you up, babes. He brought your sunshine back. Please don’t give up on him.”
Feeling completely rattled, I close my eyes. “I think I need to be alone.”
Shifting my gaze to my two best friends, I can see them struggle with this. We don’t leave each other. We’re like the three fucking musketeers. Only hotter. But I need them gone right now.
“Please. I’m fine, I just need some time to think.”
“Okay, but promise you’ll call us if you need us?” Wyatt’s face is lined with concern.
“Of course I will. Now get your asses out of here. I’ll probably call you later to organize a girls’ night. It’s been a while.”
“I’d really like that, Cass.” Skye kisses my cheek, and Wyatt reaches out and gives my hand a squeeze.
I watch them walk away, and then lie down staring up at the sky, contemplating what just went down. They have no idea what it’s like to lose someone you love with every part of yourself. Despite what Layla thinks, I loved Aidan as completely as I could. Yes, it might not have been a mature love, but it was powerful just the same. And the torment I’ve felt after only a couple of weeks away from Mason, frightens me intensely. If I’m in this much pain after only a few months with him, how devastated would I be if it ends six months from now. Or a year? Or five? I don’t think I could live through that.
My phone is wrapped tightly in my palm, and I run my thumb across the screen, bringing it up in front of my face. Scrolling to Mason’s name, my finger lingers over the call button, but for some reason I just can’t push it.
“FUCK!” I throw my phone down, wishing it would crash into a thousand pieces. Instead, it merely bounces silently on the blanket, before lying there taunting me.
Turning my head away from it, I come face to face with a dandelion, and before I even consider what I’m doing, I pick it.
Closing my eyes, I make a wish and blow as the tears start to fall.
Two months later…
“Oh shit!” Sliding the tray into the display case, I grab a pair of tongs and right the cupcake that tipped over. Thank god, the little fucker is salvageable.
Standing straight, I stretch tall in an attempt to loosen my muscles after being hunched over in the kitchen all morning.
I’m full of pride as I look around my small bakery. Can I call it a bakery? It’s a tiny shop front, only thirteen square feet, but it’s big enough for what I want. One long display case is the most prominent feature of the shop. It holds about four dozen cupcakes, and I have been selling out most days. Foot traffic along this street has proven to be a godsend.
My days have fallen into a routine that I find exhausting, which suits me just fine. I spend seven hours a day baking for Early Bird Productions and this place, starting at five in the morning, then open the store from twelve until six. By the time I make it home, I’m ready to fall into bed, so I can do it all over again the next day.
Moving across the floor, I head for the door to flip the open sign around, when I am pulled up short by a couple walking past my window.
Mason.
With some whorefaced wench by his side. Okay, maybe that’s a bit harsh, she actually looks quite sweet. But what the fuck? He’s dating already?
They’re laughing as they walk by, and he looks so fucking happy that the last little piece of my heart still standing, crumbles.
After a month, his daily calls, and subsequent messages, dwindled to once a week. I’ve never listened to any of them, but I can’t bring myself to delete them. Because everyone was right. I regret letting him go. I miss his presence in my life. His body pressed up against mine at night. The way he made me laugh. Our fights. I miss it all.
My eyes are locked to the front window as if Mason is going to reappear, and the desire to hear his voice is suddenly overwhelming.
Rushing back to the kitchen, I grab my purse and pull my phone out. In seconds I have his last voicemail pulled up, and my heart is thundering in my chest, as I wait for his deep, rumbling voice to fill my ear.
“Hey, Crazy. How was your week? Mine was busy, I had my first—” My heart stutters as his voice cuts off and all I can hear is the hum of background noise. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore, Cassidy, I’m sorry. I still can’t quite believe you just threw us away like you did. I thought we had a future. I wanted that future with you. Fuck, I still want that future with you. But you’ve made it pretty fucking clear that you’re done, and I’m sick of having a relationship with your phone.” A scratching noise sounds, and I imagine him dragging a hand along his scruff, a habit he always had when he was frustrated. Sadness courses through every fiber of my body. “Be happy, Crazy. I love you.”
Mason
Three months later...
My fingers race over my phone’s keyboard, typing out an idea that just popped into my head for a research paper I’m working on.
Going back to college has proven to be a lot easier than I had anticipated. Ten years ago, my college life revolved around getting drunk at frat parties, getting laid by pretty girls, and busting my ass to excel in courses that I hated.
These days I’m studying something that I’m passionate about, and feeling good about the direction my life is taking.
Professionally, at least.
Glancing up, I look around the restaurant Ben picked out. Usually Sundays are spent at his and Skye’s apartment, watching football. Apparently, Skye kicked us out today, because her book club was having an emergency meeting. Why the fuck a book club needs an emergency meeting is beyond me. Skye’s only explanation was that we’re men, so we wouldn’t understand.
I’m not sure why we’re having lunch here instead of just moving our plans to my place, but Ben was insistent, and he’s paying so I’m letting it slide.
I check my watch, noting that he’s late. I’m about to text him when I notice the hostess heading my way.
However, it’s the cotton-candy-colored hair I spot behind her that has my hand stilling, and the breath leaving my body.
Coming to a stop in front of the table, the hostess moves slightly, fully revealing Cassidy to me, and giving her her first glimpse of me.
Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops in horror. I can see every thought that flits through her mind, and I know she’s about to bolt.
My body tenses as I consider how I can stop her, when both of our phones buzz.
Cassidy pulls her phone out of her purse, quickly scanning the message, and then her head pops up and she scans the room, scowling.
I follow her line of sight and spot Ben and Skye seated at a table, on the other
side of the restaurant.
Skye is glaring at Cassidy, and motioning her to sit down, while Ben sits back as if settling in for a show.
I glance down at my phone and read the message I received.
BEN: You’re welcome.
“Ma’am, is there a problem?”
The hostess’s voice draws our attention back to her.
“No, it’s fine, thank you.” A breath I didn’t realize I was holding rushes out as Cassidy takes a seat opposite me.
Handing us our menus, the hostess lets us know a waiter will be by soon to take our order, and wishes us a nice meal.
With her departure, silence descends on us. I can’t stop staring at her, and it’s probably completely creepy, but I can’t make myself care. It’s been almost six months since I saw her, or even heard her voice.
She totally ghosted me, just disappeared from my life without a word. And even though I’ve spent the last six months missing everything about her, now that she’s sitting in front of me I’m pissed as fuck.
“Well, isn’t this just punch-you-in-the-face awkward.” She throws this out with a half-smile.
“Almost as awkward as standing in an empty hallway, talking to a door.” I shrug. “Or having a one-sided conversation with a voicemail. Or better yet, as awkward as a florist calling you to tell you your flowers were ‘undeliverable’. Yeah, awkward sucks.” She visibly flinches at my words.
“I…” her voice trails off, she looks completely lost, and it slays me. I’m about to apologize for my attack, when her eyes flash to life. Ah, there’s my Crazy.
“You moved on,” she hisses forcefully. “Yes, I handled the situation badly. You messed up, and I messed up, but let’s not pretend you were heartbroken about it.”
What the fuck is she talking about? I haven’t seen anyone since her. Hell, I haven’t gotten laid since her. I’m pretty damn sure I have the worst case of blue balls that has ever existed.