Chapter 22: Broken

Mason came home the next morning.

I heard the front door open. His footsteps in the foyer. The sound of him setting down his bag.

I was in the living room, waiting. He walked in. Took one look at me and stopped "Lucy."

"Mason."

He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes. His jaw was tight. "We need to talk," he said.

I felt my stomach drop. He sat down across from me. Rubbed his hands over his face.

"I've been thinking," he said. "About everything. Vincent. The danger. The way my life has been putting you at risk."

"Mason—"

"Let me finish." He looked at me. "I can't do this anymore."

I stared at him. "Do what?"

"Us." His voice was flat. "I can't be with you."

I felt like I'd been punched. "What are you talking about?"

"Vincent was just the beginning. There's always going to be someone. My family. My business. My enemies." He shook his head. "I can't protect you from all of it."

"You don't have to protect me from all of it."

"Yes, I do." His voice cracked. "That's the problem. I can't stop trying. And every time I try, I make things worse."

"Things are fine."

"Things are not fine." He stood up. "You went after Vincent alone. You didn't tell me. You didn't trust me."

"Because I knew you'd react like this!"

"React like what?"

"Like you're doing right now. Pushing me away." I stood up too. "You're scared, so you're running."

"I'm not running."

"Yes, you are." I stepped closer. "You've been running your whole life. From your family. From your feelings. From me."

He stared at me.

"Lucy—"

"No. I'm not going to let you do this." My voice was shaking. "I've been in love with you for ten years. Ten years of watching you bring home other women. Ten years of pretending I didn't care. And now—now that we finally have a chance—you're going to throw it away?"

"I'm not throwing it away."

"Then what are you doing?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "I'm trying to save you," he said finally. "From myself."

I laughed. "You're not saving me. You're breaking me."

"Lucy—"

"No." I stepped back. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to kiss me and tell me you love me and then push me away because you're scared."

"I'm not scared."

"Yes, you are." I met his eyes. "You're terrified. And I'm tired of being the one who pays for it."

He was silent.

"If you want to leave," I said quietly, "then leave. But don't pretend you're doing it for me."

I walked out of the room.

I went to the guest room. Packed my bag. Sloane called while I was stuffing clothes into my duffel.

"Lucy? What's going on? Mason just called me. He sounded wrecked."

"Good."

"What happened?"

"We're over." My voice was flat. "He ended things."

"What?"

"He said he can't be with me. Said he's trying to save me from himself."

Sloane was silent for a moment. "I'm coming over."

"Don't bother. I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Somewhere he can't find me."

"Lucy, you–"

"Don't." My voice cracked. "I need to be alone."

I hung up. I walked down the stairs. Mason was in the living room. He looked up when I entered. "Lucy, I–"

"Don't." I held up a hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

He stood up. "You don't have to leave."

"Yes, I do." I met his eyes. "You made it clear you don't want me here."

"That's not what I—"

"Yes, it is." My voice was steady. "You told me we can't be together. So I'm leaving."

I walked to the door.

"Lucy." His voice was rough. "Please."

I stopped. Turned around. "What?"

He looked at me. His eyes were wet. "I don't want you to go," he said.

"Then why are you pushing me away?"

He didn't answer. I walked out.

I didn't look back. I didn't know where I was going. I just needed to get away. I walked for blocks. Hours. I didn't keep track.

My phone buzzed. Mason. Then Sloane. I ignored both. Finally, I stopped. I was standing in front of a small apartment building. I didn't recognize it. I sat down on the steps and cried.

My phone buzzed again.

Sloane: Lucy. I'm worried. Please just tell me you're okay.

I typed back: I'm okay.

Sloane: Where are you?

Lucy: I don't know.

Sloane: I'm coming to find you.

Lucy: Don't. I need to be alone.

Sloane: Fine. But call me if you need anything. Anything.

Lucy: I will.

I set down my phone. I found a cheap motel. Paid in cash. Used a fake name. I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Everything had fallen apart. And I didn't know how to put it back together.

Sloane found me anyway. I don't know how. She just showed up at my door. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily," she said.

"Sloane—"

"Don't." She walked inside. Looked around. "This place is terrible."

"I know."

"You're coming with me."

"Sloane—"

"I'm not asking." She grabbed my bag. "You're staying with me. Until you figure things out."

I stared at her. Of course I forgot to tell. Sloane and her boyfriend broke up. They weren't really serious and to think Sloane didn't even cry over the breakup. More like she expected it anyway.

"Okay," I said finally.

We drove to her apartment. It was small. Cozy. Nothing like Mason's mansion.

"You can stay as long as you need," she said.

"Thank you."

"What are friends for?"

I smiled. For the first time in days, I smiled. Mason called Sloane that night. I heard her on the phone. Low voice. Tense.

"She's fine," Sloane said. "No, you can't talk to her. No, I don't know when she'll be ready."

A pause. "Mason. You broke her heart. You don't get to ask for favors."

She hung up. "He wants to talk to you," she said.

"I don't want to talk to him."

"I know."

She sat down beside me. "Lucy. I'm not going to tell you what to do. But I am going to tell you that Mason has been a disaster."

"I know."

"And I'm going to tell you that you deserve better."

I was quiet for a moment.

"I know," I said finally. "But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

Sloane pulled me into a hug.

"I know," she whispered. "I know."