Chapter 23

LILY

“Tell me again!” Brittany exclaims from my bed. She came over last night, just like she has for the past three nights.

Apparently, one of her sisters is home for the holidays, stressing over her wedding and driving Brittany to the brink of insanity. I told her about Mason’s visit last night. Now, all she wants is for me to recount his words over and over.

It reminds me of the first time we officially met when I started dating Mason.

“How many times do you need to hear it?” I laugh, rummaging through my closet for something warm to wear. I’m freezing today.

“Until he calls,” she laughs back. “Do you know how many times I yelled at that boy?” she asks, sitting up.

“Why am I not surprised?” I laugh, pulling out my old Ridgewood school sweater.

“Put that hideous thing away.” Britt fake gags.

I look down at the sweater, purse my lips, and glance back at her. “I think red is your color.” I toss it at her.

She squeals and throws it straight on the ground.

“Look at this one,” I say, pulling out Mason’s Greendale hoodie. I used to love wearing this. It was warm and smelled just like him.

Now, it smells like it’s been sitting in my closet for six months.

“I’m still mad you didn’t transfer, and I’m going to hold it against you for the rest of my life,” she sniffs, putting her nose in the air slightly.

We both laugh.

“What are you going to say when Mase calls?” Brittany asks as I finally settle on a knitted sweater and leggings.

“What do you mean?” I question as I start changing.

“I mean, are you going to be disinterested or act like nothing happened?” she explains.

“I’m going to be myself—normal—but I’m not going to pretend that I’m not hurt,” I reply honestly.

“You’re a better person than me.”

Suddenly, there is a knock on my door.

“Come in!” she yells out, licking her lips.

Dad has been cooking us breakfast every morning, which Brittany apparently is “living for.”

“No breakfast today, kiddos,” Dad says, leaning against the doorway.

“What? Murray,” Brittany exclaims, looking like she’s been told the worst thing in the world.

“I was going to go to the store, but when I went outside, I saw a young man walking down the road,” he says casually.

“Okay, and what does this random have to do with you not feeding me?” she sasses, making an amused smile appear on Dad’s face.

“I thought I’d better warn you that Mason is about to show,” he replies, holding his hands up in defense.

“And just double-checking, I don’t need to be a macho dad?” he asks, looking at me.

“It’s fine, Dad,” I say with a smile.

Therapy has really been helping me understand that even though Dad isn’t my biological father, he has been there through practically everything by choice. He chose me.

He changed my diapers, he taught me how to ride a bike, he bought me my first volleyball, he was there during my accident, and now.

I’m still holding some resentment for the time he traveled for work, but I’m slowly learning to let that go. However, it’s making me resent Mom more and more.

“Mason Cooper is ruining my life,” Brittany sighs dramatically, making Dad burst out laughing.

“I’ll cook you breakfast once they leave. Ask Liam to come too if you want,” he offers, making her smile wide.

“He loves your cooking,” she says, grabbing her phone.

“Who said I was going anywhere?” I pout. But when I hear a knock on the door, I literally run out of my room, down the stairs, and slide in my socks to the door.

With butterflies fluttering in my stomach, some from nervousness, some from excitement, I slowly open the door and come face to face with Mason, who has a thin layer of snow stuck to him.

“Hi,” I breathe out, trying to sound calm.

“Hi.” He smiles, showing off his dimples.

“Do you want to come in?” I offer, holding the door open wider for him.

“Do you have shoes and a jacket?” he asks, not answering my question.

“Of course I do,” I reply with a frown.

Does he think I no longer own shoes and a jacket anymore? I look at him, confused.

“I mean, do you want to grab them?” He laughs, a genuine laugh.

“Oh, right, of course.” I shake my head and turn around, rolling my eyes at myself. ~Get it together, Lily,~ I tell myself internally. “You are a boss-ass bitch, and you’ve got this,” I mumble to myself as I pull on my shoes and grab my jacket.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Mason’s voice calls out, sounding amused.

“Stop eavesdropping,” I reply, feeling my cheeks start to blush. I really need to start talking to myself ~inside~ my head.

Once I’m back at the door, I step outside and close it behind me.

“I hope you don’t mind walking,” Mason says, nodding down the stairs.

“I don’t mind,” I reply, stuffing my hands into my pockets to shield them from the cold.

“I’ve been trying to drive less. I haven’t exercised in forever,” he explains as we walk in the opposite direction of both our houses.

We walk in silence for a little bit before he begins talking.

“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” he asks casually.

“Dad’s cooking a turkey, and Brittany will probably come around once she’s sick of her family,” I answer.

“What about you?” I ask, then cringe at myself. He’s told me before that Christmas is not a thing at his house. His mom stopped buying presents when he was six, and she would just get drunk and leave him to do his own thing—just like every other day.

“Sorry,” I mumble, wishing I could take my words back.

“It’s okay,” he says, not sounding hurt or offended.

“You guys can come to my house,” I offer. “My dad has this new love for cooking, and he’s surprisingly not bad; he just cooks too much,” I explain.

“Maybe you should ask your dad first.” He laughs.

“I will.” I nod.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Mason asks, clearing his throat, nervous even talking about Christmas stuff.

“I don’t know. My favorite presents were always homemade,” I say, thinking back to when Leah and I would make terrible crafts for each other.

“My crafting skills are crap,” he says with a small chuckle.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts,” I say as I look around for the first time, not recognizing where we are.

“Where are we?” I ask, stopping in my tracks.

“Just a little further,” he says, nodding his head toward the end of the street.

“I’m feeling a bit suspicious of you right now, Mason Cooper,” I say, but still follow him.

“Maybe you should be, Lily Bennett,” he replies with a little smirk.

I follow him three more blocks before we reach a small park. I gasp as I take in the modest playground, a couple of bench seats and trees, but mainly the small frozen pond.

I’ve lived in this area my whole life and never knew this place existed.

“How did you know about this place?” I ask as we walk around the pond.

“Callum and I used to take the girls out here when Mom would have one of her drunken outbursts or when one of her shitty boyfriends was over,” he explains, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

“This was our happy place. Nothing bad ever happened here.” He stops at one of the bench seats. “Gemma used to try to jump from this bench into the pond.” He smiles.

We both turn around, and I burst out into laughter when I see the pond is at least ten feet away.

“She never got close.” He laughs before rubbing some of the snow away on the bench and sitting down.

“I thought you’d like it here,” he says as I sit next to him. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve been trying to figure out the right words to say to you.” He sighs, looking forward. “I don’t know if any of this is going to make sense. It might just be word vomit, but I just need to get it out.”

“I’m all ears.” I half-smile at the stupid saying. Why did I even say that?

Mason leans back, so we’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. “You always have some cheesy thing to say.” He smiles before taking in a deep breath and letting it out, blowing clouds from his mouth.

“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“I like it.” He turns his head to look at me. I still can’t get over how beautiful his eyes are, even with sadness coating them.

His eyes slowly close before he turns away from me again.

“I have no excuse for how I treated you,” he begins, bouncing his leg up and down. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I should’ve just told you how I was feeling. It wasn’t fair to you. What I said to you was disgusting and uncalled for.”

“I was feeling sorry for myself and got into my head,” he continues. “I thought you would be better off without me. I felt like a failure and thought I couldn’t give you the life you deserve.” He shakes his head as tears well up in my eyes.

“I thought I was turning into my mother and brother,” he snorts. “But I realized I wasn’t like either of them because every single day without you hurt me. Then, when you left, it hurt even more. I didn’t think I could feel pain like that.”

I pull my hand out of my pocket and thread my fingers through his, squeezing his hand softly.

“I kinda snapped out of it when Brittany and Stan, of all people, came over. Brittany said Cameron was torturing you and told me about your nightmares,” Mason says quietly.

“He was.” I screw my nose up. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone as much as I hate him—even Oliver.

“Then, when she said you left and were talking about getting a job at the ice cream shop, it really hit me how much I fucked up.” Guilt is heavy in his voice.

I frown. “A job at the ice cream shop?” I question, making him frown too.

“Brittany said you were going to go work at the ice cream shop,” he repeats, making me burst out laughing.

“No, I just wanted to get home to start the Christmas break early. I had to get away from Cameron and you,” I say, my voice trailing off, feeling guilty, but he nods along like he understands.

“Fucking Brittany Sanders.” He laughs, shaking his head. Typical Brittany—somehow she still manages to surprise me, but at the same time, I fully expect something like that to come out of her mouth.

We sit in silence, looking out at the frozen pond, our hands still intertwined. The silence doesn’t feel awkward.

Although I’m starting to feel really cold, I open my mouth to tell him, but Mason starts talking first.

“I know you probably don’t want to be my girlfriend again—”

“I do.” I cut him off.

His head whips around to me, and he squeezes my hand back.

“You do?” he whispers, his eyes locking with mine.

“I was so hurt, Mason,” I begin. “Every time I would do anything, I would think of you. I was a mess. I tried picturing my life without you. I pictured getting married and having babies, owning a home.”

Hurt flashes over his face, but he quickly hides it.

“But I could only ever picture my life with you. You’re my person, Mason Cooper,” I tell him, feeling a tear drip down my cheek.

“I love you so much, Lily Bennett,” he whispers as his free hand comes to cup my cheek, my face instantly resting in his palm.

“I love you too, Mason Cooper,” I quietly say, leaning forward so our noses brush.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, his breath hitting my lips.

I don’t answer him. Instead, I gently place my lips on his. Mason kisses me back softly, making me sigh into his mouth. Everything about him kissing me just feels right. His lips fit perfectly against mine; it’s like we were made to be together.