Page 174 of Mason

“Because despite everything, you’re hers. And deep down, Mia’s always believed in fixing what’s broken.”

She lets that sit there. Lets me sit in it.

“But belief isn’t enough, Mason. Not this time. You’ve gotta do the work. You’ve got to earn her trust—day by day, hour by hour. That’s how it works when you’ve scorched the earth.”

I look up. “You think I can?”

Her gaze softens, but not with pity. With truth.

“I think you have to.”

She walks over to the sink, eyes scanning the empty counter. No bottle. No glass. No stink of defeat.

“You dumped it?”

“Every drop.”

“Good.” She turns back to me. “Now start filling yourself with something better.”

Like what?I want to ask. But I don’t need to. Because she keeps going.

“You’ve got work to do. And I don’t mean the ‘go burn the world down for vengeance’ kind. I mean real work. Show up. Go to meetings. Talk to Mia. Take her to the doctor. Rub her back when it hurts. Build the damn crib. Be there.”

She crosses the room and presses a hand to my chest.

“Here,” she says. “That’s where it starts. Not with a gun. Not with revenge. With this.”

My throat gets tight.

“I’m not good at this,” I admit.

“None of us are,” she says, with a sad little laugh. “But we’re learning. And so will you.”

I want to believe her.

Hell, maybe for the first time, Ido.

She steps back and reaches into her coat pocket. Hands me a folded piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Group schedule. AA meetings. Places where no one gives a damn as long as you show up.”

I unfold it. Look it over. Monday. Wednesday. Saturday.

“Pick one,” she says. “Or all three. Just start.”

I nod slowly. My fingers curl around the paper like it might vanish if I let go.

“Thanks,” I say. It’s not enough, but it’s what I have.

Maxine nods once, grabs her coffee, and heads to the door. But before she leaves, she looks back at me over her shoulder.

“Hey, Mason?”

“Yeah?”

“You may have broken a lot of things, but this—” she taps her chest, “this is still beating. So keep it that way.”

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