Page 202 of Between Regrets and Promises

MASON

Mason

Please tell me it’s not true.

I hitsend and hold my breath when the jumping dots appear on the screen. Then they disappear.

Mason

Don’t lie to me.

Serena

I’m sorry.

Mason

That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?

Serena

I fucked up, Mason. I’m so sorry.

I toss my phone, shaking my head, not wanting to believe it. Being betrayed by my father is nothing new, but Serena? She was the closest thing I had to a sister. Now I don’t know whatto think. My dad’s a sleazeball, and he’ll never change. How the hell did Serena end up with him?

Deciding I need to blow off steam, I pack my workout bag and head to the gym. Tyler isn’t there to box with me, so I work solo with a punching bag until my hands are sore and sweat drips into my eyes. The pain feels good, and it helps clear my head as usual, but the frustration returns once I’m home, and the memory of my father telling me the news returns.

After I shower and hide in my room for a half hour, I hear a knock on my bedroom door, and Liam slowly opens it, giving me a pitiful look. Sophie knew I needed some time and left me to wallow alone. She wants to be here for me but didn’t push when I insisted I needed a minute to think this through.

“You’ve got a visitor,” he finally says.

I furrow my brows, not in the mood to talk to anyone. “Who is it?”

Liam glances at the floor, then at me. “Serena. She looks like shit. Like she’s been crying.”

I groan, letting my head fall back. “Fuck.” Brushing a hand through my hair, I push myself up and follow him down the hall. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I frown when I notice how distraught she is.

“Can we talk? Please?” she asks when I stand in front of her. I look over my shoulder at Sophie who’s sitting on the couch with a book. She meets my gaze and gives me a small smile and nods.

“Yeah, let’s go in the back room.” I lead her through the living room and kitchen until we’re there. The pool table sits in the middle, and it’s been untouched for weeks. “Want a drink?” I ask as she takes a seat on one of the chairs against the wall. “Of water,” I add.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks, though.” She wipes away the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry to show up like this, but I didn’t want to talk over text. You deserve an explanation face to face.”

I sit across from her, leaning back with my arms crossed. “I agree.”

Serena inhales a sharp breath. “I tried telling you so many times but kept chickening out. It’s why I was coming around more. The guilt of what I did was eating at me, but every time I told myself I needed to rip off the Band-Aid, I got scared of losing you.”

“You should’ve told me,” I snap. “A lot fucking sooner than this.”

“I know.” Her face falls into her hands before she looks up again. “I caused so much shit between you and Sophie when I should’ve been up front, but like I said, I was scared to lose you as a friend and also worried after everything you two had been through.”

“I could’ve handled hearing it from you, Serena. But having to hear it from the man I hate was a real low blow.”

Serena nods, wiping her cheeks. “We weren’t like hooking up regularly or anything, in case you wondered. It only happened twice. Not that it matters at this point, but I don’t want you thinking I was sneaking around and lying to you.”

“So how’d it happen? You being with my dad alone?” I ask, not wanting the gross details, but I need something to help ease this frustration that weighs heavy on my chest.

“He asked to meet with me a few weeks after your plea hearing, and so I did, thinking it was about your case. I mean, it started that way. We discussed the Westbrooks, and he didn’t think you were out of the woods yet, then asked me to keep an eye on you. Then he started asking me questions about us, like if we were dating. When I explained our friendship, something shifted. We started drinking, mostly because I was nervousaround him. He’s the DA, and the last thing I wanted was to make a bad impression because I’m your lawyer. After shit went down with Emma, I wasn’t sure how he’d treat me. Then as the conversation moved to things more personal, I let my inhibitions go and allowed the alcohol to direct my actions. It’s not an excuse, and you have every right to be pissed or hell, hate me, because I hate myself a little right now too.”

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