Page 69 of I Choose You

31

Mackenzie

We don’t get to explore.

After Mason caught on to my unspoken words, he hurried us down to the cab. The trip back to the hotel was quiet. Neither of us has a word left to share, and honestly, I think it’s for the best.

To say my heart is broken is an understatement. It’s worse I did this to myself—to us. I ruined what we started. I drew a line in the sand, and now we’re on opposite sides. It’s cold and lonely over here, and I can’t stop thinking about all the time I’m missing out on, all the time he and I could be spending together.

Still, this is what must be done.

I hate that my father’s absence affected me to this extent, that it showed me how to back away from situations that might be difficult but twice as rewarding. I can see how Mason is looking at it in a cup half full kind of way, but my mind operates differently. I’m not necessarily a negative person, but I know risk when I see it. In such a short amount of time, he’s grown attached. And I fear I have to, which is why it was so important to do what I did.

I hate my father for planting these insecurities in my brain. That they have me thinking commitment to my best friend will shatter my heart to smithereens.

But…time will heal this pain. It has to.

One day, this will be in the past and we’ll see how we’ve learned from it, how we’ve changed, and how it was our best option.

Back at the hotel, I overhear Mason calling to check if any last-minute flights are available for the afternoon or evening back to Maine. My stomach falls when his voice perks up at the confirmation of an earlier flight.

Tension works its way into every nook and cranny of the room. It hangs from the ceiling, clouding over us. He doesn’t even look at me. Hasn’t since we were in that stupidly gorgeous apartment. “I rescheduled our flights. We head out in two hours.”

I swallow down the thickness in my throat, the pain that buries itself where my heart resides. I whisper out, “Okay.” It’s the best I can muster without breaking down. I don’t want to wedge the knife deeper. To split him apart more than I already have. He thinks I don’t care, and that’s what pushed me to break things off, but God, is he wrong.

It’s important that Mason remains my friend. As much as I like being with him, I never want to go without him. That’s why it hurts this much. This heartache will embed itself in my soul for years to come. But it’s better than what it could be.

For the next hour, I gather my belongings. It doesn’t take much work since we barely unpacked yesterday when we arrived. Mason is quiet as he does the same, emotion thick in the air. I know he’s hurting, that I’ve caused it. Normally, if anyone else were to affect him like this, I would be the person to soothe and comfort him, but I don’t dare.

Another hour later, we’re at the front desk, checking out of our room. Then, we grab a cab and head to the airport, waiting for another two hours before we board our flight.

During our time in the air, he says twenty-one words to me.

“If you give me your carry-on, I’ll put it up here for you.”

“Luke will be there when we land.”

I repeat them as we make it back to Maine. I hang on to every word like they’re little lifelines and I need them to survive. When tears prick halfway through the flight, I pretend I’m crying over the rom com playing on all the screens.

When we’re told to undo our seatbelts, Mason wastes no time jabbing the red button and grabbing our carry-ons from the storage compartment above. He hands mine over to me without a word, and we make our way toward the terminal where Luke is meeting us.

We push through the doors that lead to the outside pickup area and scan until we see him, leaning against his car with his phone in his hand. When he finally looks up, we’re feet away. He opens his arms like he’s asking for a hug, but Mason calmly walks past without acknowledging him. He yanks the back door open, shoves in his luggage, then climbs into the front seat.

Luke looks over his shoulder at him, then back to me. “What the hell is his problem?”

What am I supposed to say? Not long ago, Luke pulled me aside, warning me about what could come of Mason and me fooling around. I didn’t take the warning seriously because I wanted to enjoy what felt good at the time. I wanted to soak it in. Bask in the sunlight while the skies were clear.

“Mackenzie, what happened in Texas?”

“I—” I stop short when the familiar sting returns behind my eyes. They fill, and a tear rolls down my cheek, glistening under the sun rays peeking through a set of clouds. My palm races to swipe it away.

He rubs a hand over his cheek and down his jaw, making me aware that the combination of one word and the waterworks is enough for him to understand something monumental went down while we were gone. He looks away, then back at me. “What did you say to him?”

I pull at the strap of my carry-on, adjusting it on my shoulder. “Words.”

“Details, Kenz. I need details if I’m going to tolerate the drive home and pull his head out of his ass—and heart—once we’re back at the house.”

I turn my attention to the ground because I’m too defeated to say it while looking him in the eye. “He asked me to move to Austin with him.”

---