Page 32 of Open Arms

“I want to. I really do. It’s just . . . it’s not easy for me to talk about.”

He nodded, his expression full of understanding. “I get that. Believe me, I do. But whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen. No judgment, no pressure. Just an open ear and a shoulder to lean on.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes once more, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. Gratitude for the incredible man standing before me, offering me his unwavering support and acceptance.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Mason’s lips curved into a gentle smile, his thumb tracing the outline of my jaw. “You’re not alone anymore, Chloe. I promise you that.”

I leaned into his hand, savoring the warmth of his skin against mine. In that moment, I felt a connection forming between us, a bond that went beyond mere friendship.

But even as my heart swelled with affection for this kind, compassionate man, I couldn’t shake the fear that lingered in the depths of my soul. The fear of revealing too much, of exposing the scars that I’d worked so hard to keep hidden.

Still, there wasn’t a single part of Mason that made me feel like I couldn’t trust him.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “You know, you really are the best man I’ve ever met,” I said softly, my eyes locked on his.

Mason’s lips quirked into a half-smile, but there was a flicker of sadness in his gaze. “I don’t know about that,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I’m far from perfect, Chloe.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” I countered, my hand finding his. “But you . . . you’re kind and caring and honest. And you’ve been there for me, even when I’ve tried to push you away.”

He squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I’ll always be here for you, Chloe. No matter what.”

We stood in silence for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air between us. Then, Mason cleared his throat, his gaze turning distant.

“I know what it’s like to feel broken,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “When Abby’s mother left . . . it shattered me. I felt alone, worthless, like I wasn’t enough for her to stay.”

My heart ached for him, for the pain he’d endured. “Mason . . .”

He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. “But then I realized that I had to be strong for Abby. She needed me, and I needed her. And the ranch . . . it became my solace. A place where I could forget the hurt and just focus on the present.”

I nodded, understanding all too well the need for a sanctuary. A place to escape the ghosts of the past.

“Abby’s lucky to have you,” I said softly, my fingers intertwining with his. “And so am I, even if it’s just as a friend.”

Mason’s eyes met mine, and in that moment, I saw a glimmer of hope in their depths. I let myself feel it too. I could say we werefriends all I wanted, but lord almighty, I wanted Mason Bridges in every way I could have him.

The timing just wasn’t right.

Mason cleared his throat, a hint of nervousness creeping into his expression. “Actually, there was another reason I stopped by today.”

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I wanted to invite you to the Fall Festival tomorrow. It’s kind of a big deal around here. The whole town comes out for it. Abby’s been chompin’ at the bit to ride the rides and win some carnival prizes.”

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with both of them. “That sounds like fun. I’d love to go.”

His face lit up, a boyish grin spreading across his features. “Great! It starts at five, but I figure we can head over at a quarter of because Abby will just bounce off the walls till I take her over anyway.”

I laughed, already excited for it. “Perfect.”

With a final smile, he squeezed my hand and made his way towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chloe. And remember, I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

As the door closed softly behind him, I sat down at the table, leaning back in the chair. In the span of a single conversation, Mason had managed to break through walls I’d spent years constructing. And while the thought of letting someone in still terrified me, I couldn’t deny the warmth that blossomed in my chest at the memory of his touch, his words.

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I allowed myself to hope. To believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as broken as I’d once thought.

My gaze drifted back to the photo, the smiling faces of my family staring up at me. The weight of their loss still hung heavyon my heart, but the sharpness of the pain had dulled, ever so slightly.

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