Page 31 of Open Arms

“Thanks, Mason,” I whispered. “That . . . that means a lot.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. For a moment we just looked at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between us.

But then I shook my head, and tried to downplay the whole thing. “It’s nothing, really.”

He took a step closer, his gray eyes searching mine. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. Could I trust him with the truth? With the memories that haunted me?

Mason reached out, gently placing a hand on my shoulder.

Something about his touch, his sincerity, made me want toopen up. I took a shaky breath. “I . . . I had a flashback earlier. At Sunshine Acres.”

He nodded, encouraging me to continue.

“It brought back memories of my family. Of how much I miss them. They’re . . . they’re not around anymore.” My voice trembled, and I looked away, blinking back fresh tears.

Mason’s eyes darted back to the photo and his hand tightened on my shoulder, a silent show of support. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I can’t even imagine how hard that must be.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to spill out my entire tragic history. “It’s just . . . some days are harder than others, you know?”

“I get it,” he said softly. “Grief isn’t a straight line. It’s okay to have bad days.”

His words were like a balm to my battered soul. I looked up at him, seeing the genuine care and understanding in his eyes. He smiled, and despite the heaviness in my heart, I felt a tiny spark of warmth.

We simply existed there for a moment, the silence between us comfortable rather than awkward. I realized then how much I’d come to rely on Mason’s steady presence in my life.

Maybe I wasn’t ready to share everything with him yet. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had someone I could truly trust. Someone who would be there for me, no matter what.

And that thought gave me the strength to keep going, even on the hardest days.

I cleared my throat, breaking eye contact as I struggled to find the right words. I couldn’t tell him everything. Not yet. But I could share something. A step, even if it was a small one.

“It’s not just the flashback, though.” My voice wavered slightly. “I thought I was doing better, you know? Movingforward. But then something as simple as a stuck door sends me spiraling again.”

Mason’s brow furrowed with concern. “Chloe, I’ll say it again. Grief isn’t a straight path, and healing ain’t either, for that matter. They’re full of twists and turns, ups and downs. You can’t beat yourself up over the bad days.”

A choked laugh escaped my lips. “Easier said than done, Mase.”

He smiled ruefully. “Ain’t that the truth.” His expression softened. “But I mean it, Chlo. You’re one of the strongest people I know. I don’t pretend to know all you’ve been through, but I can tell it was a lot. I can tell it would have taken out plenty of others. But you survived. The fact that you keep pushing forward, even when it feels impossible? That you smile and shine brighter than the sun, even when your heart hurts you so? That takes real courage.”

Tears blurred my vision, and I ducked my head, trying to hide them. But Mason wasn’t fooled. He gently tugged me into his arms, enveloping me in a warm embrace.

I stiffened for a moment, unused to the comfort. But as Mason held me, murmuring soothing words, I felt myself relax, the tension draining from my body.

“It’s okay to let it out,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

And with those simple words, the dam inside me broke. I clung to Mason, sobs wracking my frame as years of pent-up grief and pain poured out of me.

Through it all, Mason held me steady, a solid anchor in the storm of my emotions. His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back, a comforting rhythm that slowly calmed my racing heart.

As my tears subsided, I pulled back slightly, sniffling. “Sorry,” I mumbled, swiping at my damp cheeks. “I didn’t mean to fall apart on you like that.”

Mason shook his head. “You don’t ever have to apologize for showing your feelings, Chloe. I’m here for you, in whatever way you need me to be.” He hesitated for a moment. “I know there’s more to your story than you’re letting on. And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me everything right now.”

I swallowed hard, my eyes searching his. “Mason, I . . .”

But the words died in my throat, the weight of my past still too heavy to bear. Images flashed through my mind—the blood, the screams, the shattered remnants of my once-happy family. How could I burden him with such darkness?

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