Page 175 of The Young & the Sinner

Olivia

I drove home on autopilot.

I couldn’t remember the end to my conversation with my dad, and it didn’t even matter.

Hurt, confusion and anger waged a war inside me, and I didn’t know which brother all these conflicting emotions were directed toward.

Max knew. He knew all along that Mason was the other man in my parents’ relationship. He knew that Mason was part of the event that forced my dad to leave, for my mom to break and for everything in between and since.

Where one brother picked up my broken pieces, the other one caused me to break in the first place.

And then I went and fell in love with him.

I was a stupid girl.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the first tear hit my thigh. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my sweater before pulling the car into the garage, right next to Max’s.

I didn’t think, didn’t even hesitate, when instead of walking into Max’s house, I walked over to Mason’s. The house was silent when I entered, but I knew he was home.

I found him in room, his laptop opened on his lap. He looked up when I entered, frowning at the redness of my eyes. There was no way to hide the fact that I had been crying.

“Livie?”

He placed the laptop down and stood up. It looked like he wanted to walk over to me, but he didn’t.

I didn’t say anything for a moment. I just stared at him, wondering how I could have spent so many nights in his arms, how I could have come to love him as much as I did and not know. He felt like a stranger now.

“Why?” I croaked out.

I didn’t need to elaborate. He knew what I was asking. I could see it in his eyes.

He turned away from me for a moment, and when he looked back, I could see the torment in his cobalt blue eyes. I was sure they reflected my own.

“I just came here for my stuff,” I said, though I knew that was a lie. I didn’t even know why I came by. To see him with my own eyes? To hear him admit to it? Would any of that help? I didn’t think so.

Mason shook his head a little, and I didn’t know what that movement meant.

“Please, baby. Just talk to me.”

“What is there to talk about?” I asked, finally meeting his eyes.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For the first time, it was Mason who was at a loss for what to say.

He walked over to me, not touching me but close enough that I could feel his warm breath fanning my face. “How do I explain to you how much I have fallen for you? How much I love you?”

“Love?” I asked, tears drenching my cheeks. “This doesn’t feel like love to me.”

I made a move to turn away, but he pulled me in so tight I couldn’t get away even if I wanted to. The sickest part? I didn’t want to.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. To do…” I said in his chest.

“Anything. Hit me. Yell at me. Just do anything but leave. Please, Livie.”

I pulled back slightly and met his eyes. “I don’t understand you. How could I have been with you for so long, been so close and intimate with you so many times, and not know?”

His anguished eyes never strayed from me, and I swore I saw my own heart breaking in them.

I rubbed at my chest. “It hurts,” I said. “My heart hurts every time I look at you, every time I think about you. It just hurts so bad. How could you?”

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