Page 87 of Mason

“No,” she cuts me off, taking a step back, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Her throat bobs, her eyes flicking up to mine, and for the first time in my life, I see it.

The thing she won’t say.

She knows.

Somehow, she knows.

She knows that I’m her father. And she’s been waiting for me to put her first. She’s been waiting for me to say it.

I feel it with everything in me.

But I don’t say it. I can’t bring myself to say the words she wants to hear.

And that’s what breaks her.

“Forget it,” she mutters, turning away. “I don’t even know why I came here.”

I reach for her, but she jerks away, shaking her head.

“When you decide to actually be a man about this, let me know,” she says over her shoulder. “But until then? Stay out of my life.”

And then she’s gone.

The second the door closes, Shelby lets out a breath, leaning against the wall. “Well. That was… intense.”

I say nothing, staring at the spot where Mia stood.

“You should go after her,” Shelby says gently.

I shake my head. “Not now. Not when she’s like this.”

Shelby crosses her arms. “That’s your daughter,” she says—more a statement than a question. Was it that obvious?

“I don’t know why she’s so angry.”

“She’s been waiting for you to tell her, Mason. Why haven’t you told her?”

I clench my jaw. “Well, she definitely knows now.”

“That’s not the point. Look, it’s none of my business. But she obviously just wants to hear it from you.”

“I don’t know why this has come up now. Why she’s so emotional about it all of a sudden.”

“You need to talk to her, Mason. She obviously needs her closure.”

I don’t answer.

Shelby steps forward, her voice softer now. “Mason, she’s hurt. She wants to hear it from you. You’re the one person who can make this right.”

I let out a slow breath, running a hand down my face.

Shelby watches me for a long moment before shaking her head.

“You’re not scared of much, are you?” I glance at her, waiting. “But you’re scared of this,” she finishes, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re scared you’ll fail her as a father. But you won’t know, mason, until you try.”

How the helldo you tell your only child that you’re not her uncle, but her father?

It’s a question I’ve toyed with for years, rolling it around in my head like a bullet in the chamber, knowing eventually I’d have to pull the trigger. But every time I got close, every time I so much asthoughtabout sitting Mia down and laying the truth bare, something stopped me.

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