Page 66 of A Little More Hope

No, the real reason was far more pathetic. I didn’t want to work on my house alone with no Mason beside me to help or talk me through what we were going to do next. His enthusiasm and drive were infectious, and just being in his presence had me striving to achieve as much as I could, while doing the best job possible. If he wasn’t around to share the experience with me, the renovation would quickly lose most of its luster.

I flopped down sideways on the couch and released a long and frustrated groan. Somewhere along the way, I’d begun to picture me and Mason living in my cozy beach house. The two of us snuggled up under blankets on the sofa as a storm raged outside. The wood burner alight, logs crackling, the flames keeping away the winter chills. Or us both lazing in bed on a Sunday morning after hours of lovemaking, music playing softly in the background. Or me sitting at our new kitchen island watching Mason as he cooked a tasty meal for us to eat.

I’d yearned for a place to call my own for so many years, and now my dreams had finally come true, I didn’t care in the slightest. The house would be amazing once finished, but as my home, my sanctuary? Unless I had Mason there with me to share my life, it would be nothing more than a place to eat and sleep.

The stark truth of this realization rocked me to my core. The only reason to settle down in Melrose Bay and be happy here was all due to Mason. He’d become my solid foundation, which had nothing to do with me inheriting the beach house whatsoever. It didn’t matter if I lived in a tiny studio in the middle of Bum Fuck, I’d be happy and content if I’d have Mason by my side.

In the past, I never stayed in one place long enough to put down roots, and I’d never needed to. There’d been no one special enough to keep me there, to ground me, to make me contemplate staying put.

I’d always blamed my ex-partners because they had been the ones to leave me. I’d listened to their reasons and explanations as to why I wasn't the one for them and accepted their answers at face value as it was easier to do so. I’d never fully committed to them, or showed them enough emotion, or care and attention to give them a reason to stay. Never once did I question the motives behind their departure, or why the pattern kept repeating itself over and over. I guess if enough people tell you the same thing, it inevitably lodges somewhere deep in your subconscious. Then, the more the cycle continued, the more I expected to, leading me to withdraw my feelings from them more and more, as at the time had felt the only way to protect myself. God, no wonder my ex-partners had left me. They weren’t at fault, I was. I went through the motions of being in a relationship, when in reality I’d never truly been in one, not until Mason.

He was the only person I’d ever considered remaining in one place for, and wasn’t that worth fighting for? Wasn’t he worth fighting for as hard as I possibly could? I fully appreciated how difficult the task I was undertaking would be, and Mason definitely wouldn’t make it easy, but I at least had to try one more time to get through to him. Convince him I was the right person, the only person for him. Show him how perfect we could be together if he could only trust me enough to allow me fully into his life. If I failed—I suppressed a shudder knowing it was a distinct possibility with how wary and protective Mason was with his heart—I’d lick my wounds and reluctantly move on, no matter how much it hurt to do so. At least I’d have given it my best shot, and whatever the outcome, I could hold my head up high.

But, how the hell did I go about persuading a commitment-phobic man working through the pain and suffering of a devastating attack, one who trusted hardly anyone, to take a chance on me?

Throwing on my shoes, I grabbed my wallet, phone, and the keys from the bowl. First, I had to knock his socks off. Make him see exactly what he was missing out on. Appealing to him, begging if necessary, to take the leap since he deserved to have me in his life, the same way I deserved him in mine.

Being buffeted by the welcome breeze on my walk into town cleared out the last vestiges of my hangover. Since Sawyer eating his bacon sandwich had played on the big screen in my head all morning, I headed to Cassie’s Diner. Tucked around a corner off the main square, the locals loved it, as they got to enjoy tasty food and a friendly face without the hassle of the tourists crashing their peace and quiet. Aunt Mary Ellen used to bring me here after our weekly hikes, and as I walked in the door the familiar smell of fresh coffee and the best pastries for miles around assailed me, taking me right back to my childhood.

“Morning, hon,” the waitress welcomed me. “Table for one?”

“Please.”

“I have the perfect spot.” Grabbing a menu, we headed to the seat in the window alcove at the high narrow bar table overlooking the park.

I sat. “Great, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, hon. I’ll be back in a second with some coffee.”

Ten minutes later, and far more relaxed after having ordered my favorite egg and bacon sandwich, I soaked up the atmosphere and sipped my caffeine as I waited for my food. While reminiscing about ice cream sundae’s, the bell over the door chimed another customer’s entry. After a few moments, I sensed someone next to me, so turned my head to check who it was, and there stood Gabe at my side.

He gestured to the vacant stool beside me. “Mind if I sit down?” Not waiting for my answer, he took the seat, regardless. We were quiet; neither of us, especially me, wanting to begin a conversation. I sipped my coffee and stared out the window at the children playing on the grass.

“Hey, sugar,” the waitress addressed Gabe when she placed my food on the counter in front of me. “You want the usual?”

“Please, Shirley.” A genuine smile lit his face. “Thank you.”

I gawped at him.

“Where did you think I went while you and Mason were fucking like rabbits?” he asked me casually. “I needed a place to escape while you two had your get to know you time.” I continued to stare at him. “Besides, I’ve been coming here for the last year or so. The food’s amazing and the free Wi-Fi allows me to work, so it’s not like I had nowhere else to go.”

His thoughtfulness at giving Mason and me the space to get better acquainted showed an incredibly kind side to his personality. His efforts had been in vain as it turned out, but the gesture was a thoughtful one all the same.

It had only been around twelve hours since I’d last seen Mason but seemed more like an eternity. I’d gotten used to having him around and being without him didn’t sit right at all.

Gabe’s coffee and pastry arrived.

“You not getting Mason a coffee?” I asked, trying to make my question appear like I only had a vague interest in his answer.

He shook his head. “No, he left early this morning.”

My stomach dropped through the floor. “Left?”

“Yeah, he took my car. Went back to the city.”

Oh.

“Wait.” I raised my hand. “You let him go to the city alone? What if he has a panic attack or actually gets attacked?” Horror filled me at his complete disregard for Mason’s mental health and well-being. “What happens when he gets there and has to face all those people?” I bunched my hands into two tight, painful fists to stave off my growing anger. He was his best friend, wasn’t he? Why the hell didn’t he go with him? “What the fuck were you thinking?” I groused loudly. Loud enough for the conversation to lower behind us as all eyes turned our way.

---