Page 76 of Between Regrets and Promises

Allie starts to get fussy, and Lennon says she’s ready for a nap. As Maddie changes the baby, Lennon pulls me to the side and gives me a concerned look. “Listen, I know this is hard for you, and you just want to push it away for now. I’m not going to tell you how to deal with this, considering the way things happened, but I do think you should talk to someone so you don’t bottle it up. I was doing some research and found these grieving groups. It’s like group therapy where people who lost someone close to them can chat openly about it. Even if you aren’t grievinghim, you’re grieving the life you thought you’d have. You did love him at one point, and you’re grieving a loss regardless. It might be something to consider.”

It wasn’t because I’m actively trying not to think about any of it. But I know my sister and how much she loves me, so I give her an appreciative smile. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Do I want to talk about it? Would it help? Or would it open wounds I’m not ready to dissect?

We say our goodbyes, and soon they’re off, leaving me in a quiet house. Mason is in his room, obviously wanting to give us privacy down here. Considering this is his home, I think that’s super nice.

I wake up the next day, sore as hell. As appreciative as I am for being able to stay here, this couch is killing me. I toss and turn all night, unable to get comfortable for too long before I’m forced to find a new position.

Mason strolls down the stairs in nothing but gray sweatpants. I swallow down the lump lodged in my throat at seeing him this early in the morning with messy hair, sleepy hooded eyes, and shirtless with his body on display.

Jesus.

Is this my punishment? Getting to look and not touch?

Fucking brutal.

“Morning,” he says with a deep throaty voice. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, darting my attention away and pretending to focus on the very interesting coffee table in front of me. “What’re you doing up?”

“Taking you shopping. We leave in an hour.”

My head pops up as he walks through the living room and into the kitchen. His back muscles are a very welcome distraction.

Wait,what?

“Shopping for what?” I ask, following him.

“Enough is enough, Soph.”

He turns on the coffeemaker, then digs around in the cabinet. “You want some?” he asks, grabbing two mugs before I even respond.

“Sure, yeah. Wait. What’re you talking about?” I ask, going to the fridge for creamer because I need to keep my hands busy before I do something stupid like reach out and touch him.

“You need a bed,” he says, turning to face me, and I blink. “We have the third room, so you might as well use it. We’ll get a bed, nightstand, and dresser, a bookcase for all your books, and whatever else you need. No use sleeping on that shitty couch because it’s not that comfortable. I’ve spent a few drunken nights on it myself.”

“Mason,” I say softly, placing the creamer on the counter next to him. “I appreciate you giving me the third room, I really do, but I can’t afford all that. I’m already gonna be stretching my budget to pay my portion of the rent, so?—”

“Who said you had to pay rent?” he snaps, narrowing his eyes on me.

“Well, no one, but I’m not gonna live here rent free.”

“You are,” he says, his blunt tone leaving no room for argument, but I push anyway.

“Mason, please don’t treat me like a sick puppy.”

“Soph, I wasn’t.” His voice is genuine, but his expression drops.

“I know you didn’t mean to, but I don’t want anyone’s pity. You’re already being way too nice, so yes, I will pay rent to live here. I’m not a freeloader and want to pay my share. I’ll take on a few extra students to tutor and save up for a bed.”

“Let me buy you a bed, Soph. Please.” Mason takes me by surprise, and I gasp when he steps toward me and grabs myhand. He wraps both of his palms over my fist, then rests it on his chest over his heart. “Let me do this for you.”

“This isn’t picking up a dinner tab, Mason. This is a bed and furniture.”

“Well, it’s my house, and that room needs to be furnished.” He shrugs, knowing I can’t argue that, and flashes a victorious grin.

My shoulders drop as I officially give up the fight. He has a point.

---