Page 93 of I Need You Tonight
“I know,” I said softly. “It was an accident.” I wrapped my arms around myself.
Mason turned his head toward the mountains, the tension in his muscles even tighter now. He stayed like this for several seconds before releasing a heavy breath, as though the weight of the world was sitting square on his shoulders and he had no idea what to do with it.
Suddenly he turned back to me and closed the distance between us. Before I could react, his arms encircled me. At first his hold on me was loose, his arms slightly stiff, as if he was afraid to touch me, but then he pulled me against his body and relaxed into me.
He kissed my temple. “I still love you, Nicole.” His voice was gruff with emotion, yet his words felt like a soft caress. “But we always knew this would never work between us.”
My heart ached at his words, but he was right. Our lives were moving in different directions. Once he was released, he’d be back to touring, possibly putting himself at risk again. There would be no place in his life for me.
I hugged him back, head on his chest, tears leaking onto his T-shirt. “I love you too,” I managed to say past the lump in my throat. Sucking in a sharp breath that bordered on a sob, I pulled away. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I smiled, the expression genuine although a little shaky, my body already regretting the loss of him against me. “By the way, congratulations on becoming a headlining band. The band deserves it. You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” he said, his tone once again free of emotion. I couldn’t tell if he was excited or not. But in the grand scheme of things, I supposed, it didn’t really matter. He was alive to witness his success—that was more important.
We talked for a little longer after that, avoiding discussing the band and what had happened on the night he’d OD’d. He told me about his time in rehab, how he was actually enjoying yoga (I had to laugh at that), and how he got to play the piano in the rec room. His face lit up when he shared that, and a warm feeling snuggled up inside me. I told him about the upcoming reopening and how Bernie missed him, but there was no escaping how much I missed him too, even though I didn’t say the words. I also told him that Zack said hi, but kept what else he had said on the phone to myself.
Eventually I knew I couldn’t stay any longer. I needed to walk away, and I needed to do it now, before it was too late.
As much as I craved the feeling of his lips on mine once more, we didn’t kiss. We hugged like friends who were saying their final goodbyes. Somehow I kept from crying, though barely. That was a small miracle in itself.
We didn’t say “I love you” either. It had already been said, and that was enough.
Walking away was the hardest thing I had ever done. My body and my heart begged me to turn around and stay with him. Even my brain was having a hard time knowing what was the right thing to do.
I returned to my car and climbed in. But instead of starting the engine, I let my grief consume me—and cried enough tears to turn the desert into an ocean before I finally drove away.
