Page 44 of The Art of Dying

I closed my eyes tight and squeezed her back, holding her too long before speaking. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

chapter thirteen.

Kitsch

“Just… please believe me,” Mack said, tears filling her eyes. “Since the day I arrived, everything has been perfect. You’ve been perfect. I couldn’t find the right time, even one minute that I wanted to tarnish by telling you what happened. I’ve been so happy and didn’t want to ruin a single moment of it. I didn’t say anything before because you might’ve thought that was my only reason for coming here. I know… I know they’re excuses, but the plan was always to tell you.”

“Wait,” I paused, trying to regain my composure. “He what?”

I’d been practically drunk with happiness since Mack called to say she was moving to California to be with me. The moment we finished unpacking her things, I got down on one knee. She said yes, making it the newest best day of my life. One overwhelmingly happy moment just led to another one, but a month to the day after she’d arrived in California, Mack came home from her new job at the hospital, and everything was different. She didn’t run to hug me. There were no smiles, no calling out my name. She just stood in the doorway, fidgeting with shaking hands. When I finally got up the courage to ask, she answered so fast all I could understand was that two days before she arrived, Mason had come back to Quincy and scared her.

She stumbled over her words. I wanted to give her a chance to speak, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled her in to my chest and held her tight. She pressed her cheek against me, taking a big breath.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” she whispered. “You have every right to be angry.”

I sighed and kissed her hair. My anger was only with Mason, but Mack would internalize it, so I had to use every ounce of my military discipline to keep my feelings reined in. “I’m not angry at you. Not even a little.”

She looked up at me. The tears in her eyes had fallen over her cheeks, leaving two wet lines.

I used my thumbs to gently wipe them away. “Take a breath. Tell me again.”

She let go and took a step back, immediately hugging her middle. “I was with Alecia and Kelita at Ody’s. It was a normal night but then Mason walked in. He tried to talk to me. He wasn’t mean or anything, but of course not, because…” She stopped herself, realizing she was speaking too fast again. “Because he’s always nice in public. He was being creepy, but he didn’t say much because Alecia screamed at him to leave. Will and Kelita helped. So… he left. But then he came back. I’m pretty sure I saw him on the security monitor the night before. Alecia thinks it was him, but I don’t know.”

I opened my mouth to ask her why she didn’t call me, but I knew the answer. I would’ve gone crazy sitting here knowing Mason was sneaking around in our backyard at night, and if I couldn’t get leave, I might’ve gone AWOL.

She waited, but when I didn’t say anything, she continued. “Alecia spent the night, but when I went out to my car to warm it up the next morning, he was there. Waiting for me. He chased me back to the porch, got close… too close. Said some things that scared me.”

“Like what? Did he threaten you?”

“He made excuses for what he did to me. He doesn’t believe that I’m not still in love with him. He thinks that I’m just with you to make him jealous, that you’ll do worse to me than he ever did.” Her eyes widened. “It’s not true.”

“Nothing Mason says is ever the truth.”

She took a step, the saddest, most innocent and desperate expression on her face. “I gave myself two weeks to tell you, but everything was so perfect, and I just… couldn’t. I know I should’ve sooner, but…”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to explain to me, honey. Even if you did come here and said yes when I proposed to get away from him, I’m just selfish enough not to care. I want you safe. I want you here. I want you. However I can get you.”

She looked confused. “You’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad as fuck, but not at you.”

And then came the tackle hug, the tiny kisses on my cheek and neck that I’d become accustomed to when she got home from work every night. I just held her while my mind battled between plans of revenge and violence and letting karma take care of it because the important thing was that Mack was safe with me.

She buried her face in my chest. “Thank you,” she said, her voice muffled. She let me go and went into the kitchen.

“Where you goin’?” I called.

“I’m making us a drink.”

“Good idea,” I said, sitting on the couch. I rubbed my face with my hand, then looked up when she nudged me.

“Here,” she said, handing me a whiskey and then sitting next to me with a large glass of wine.

We both took a gulp and then she nestled up against me. I put my arm around her, resting my cheek on her hair. We just sat in silence for a few minutes, struggling to step back into normal from such a heavy conversation.

“Thank you for telling me. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“Thank you for listening and believing me, and for not acting crazy. Because I know it’s your first inclination to take care of business.”

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