Mason led me through the vast entrance of his father's mansion. The place was as intimidating as ever—tall glass windows, polished marble floors, and walls decorated with paintings that probably cost more than my parents' house.
I had come here before.
Countless times.
Of course always in secret
His room was exactly how I remembered it.
The faint scent of pine wood lingered in the air, mixed with a soft floral fragrance from the candles he always kept on his dresser. The room itself was enormous—larger than the entire living room in my house. A king-sized bed sat in the center, covered in cream sheets with royal blue pillows arranged perfectly.
Everything looked neat.
Even the bed he had just been lying in with Rixa was already made, as if nothing had happened there at all.
The thought made something twist painfully inside my chest. Made Josh's words echo.
Mason gently guided me to sit on the edge of the bed. He disappeared briefly into his bathroom before returning with a small washcloth. The fabric was damp and cool as he pressed it softly against my cheeks, wiping away the tears I hadn't realized were still falling.
"Hey… look at me," he murmured.
We sat facing each other on the bed.
His hand rested against my cheek, warm and careful, like he was handling something fragile. My eyes drifted over his face despite myself—taking in every detail I had memorized long ago.
His hazel eyes seemed almost golden in the afternoon light. They fit beautifully with mine—blue-grey and always too expressive for my own good. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, messy in a way that somehow still looked perfect. The thin gold chain around his neck rested lazily against his chest, catching the light whenever he moved.
And his body—tall, lean, effortlessly strong.
He looked perfect.
Maybe that was the reason I only wanted him.
Think of the hurt.
He doesn't love you.
The voice in my head roared louder than ever. My subconscious hated him. She always did
But I didn't.
And maybe that was my biggest weakness.
So instead of saying the words I came here to say…
I did the one thing I had wanted to do all day.
I kissed him.
I threw myself forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt as my lips crashed against his. The sudden movement pushed him backward until we both fell onto the bed.
For a second, he froze.
Then he kissed me back.
But there was hesitation in it.
"We can't," he groaned against my lips, his voice strained as he tried to pull away.
But I could feel it—the tension in his body, the way his hands gripped my waist just a little too tightly.
He wanted me.
I knew he did.
"I need you," I whispered breathlessly between kisses.
His jaw tightened.
"Rixa," he said quietly.
The name ignited something ugly inside me.
Jealousy.
I pushed him away sharply and stood up from the bed.
"Fine," I snapped. "It's over. Since you want her so badly."
I turned toward the door, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, but before I could take another step, his hand wrapped around my arm.
In one swift motion, he pulled me back.
Our bodies collided again.
"Feisty," he murmured with a crooked smile, though his voice was rough with tension. "You're going to be the death of me."
Before I could respond, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of his room.
We moved quickly down the hallway, passing door after door—rooms I had never seen before. The mansion seemed endless, filled with quiet luxury and secrets behind every polished door.
Finally, he stopped in front of one at the far end of the hall.
"This one," he muttered.
He opened it and pulled me inside.
The room was dim, clearly unused.
But neither of us cared about the room.
The moment the door shut behind us, the tension snapped.
We collided into each other again, far more urgently this time.
His hands found my waist, pulling me against him as if he couldn't stand even an inch of distance between us. My fingers tangled in his hair while our kisses grew rougher, desperate, like two people trying to forget the world outside that door.
My swimsuit found its way on the far corner of the room.
My swimsuit lay abandoned in the far corner of the room.
For a moment, lying there beside him, I let myself believe something foolish.
This had to be love.
The urgency, the way he had pulled me here, the way he had kissed me like the rest of the world didn't exist—it had to mean something. Maybe he loved me but didn't know how to break things off with Rixa yet. Maybe he was scared. Maybe that was why everything between us had always been hidden.
Why else would he risk everything?
"You're perfect," he groaned softly, his voice still rough as he caught his breath.
The words made my heart race. I felt completely lost in the moment, drowning in the warmth of his attention.
After a while, the reality of the room crept back in. I reached across the floor to grab my swimsuit and quickly pulled it back on. Manson tossed his shirt toward me, a lazy smile playing on his lips.
"Here," he said.
I slipped it over my shoulders while he leaned back against the bed's headboard, his fingers idly threading through my hair.
"You wanted to tell me something earlier at school," he said casually. "What was it?"
My stomach twisted.
The baby.
The word echoed loudly inside my head, but my mouth refused to form it. Fear pressed against my chest so heavily it made breathing difficult.
Instead, the words that escaped were the ones my heart had been carrying for years.
"I love you, Mason."
The moment the sentence left my lips, I knew I had made a mistake.
His smile faded slowly, like sunlight disappearing behind clouds. The warmth in his expression cooled as he sat up and gently moved away from me.
He avoided my eyes completely.
"Lani…" he began carefully.
My heart sank.
"You know I care about you. A lot," he continued. "But I thought we were just… having fun. You know, messing around because—well—the sex is good."
He even laughed softly, like he was trying to keep things light.
The sound shattered something inside me.
Stupid girl.
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't even let the hurt show on my face.
Instead, I smiled.
Played the fool.
"You're right," I said quietly. "We shouldn't let feelings make things complicated."
It took everything in me to keep my voice steady. Every instinct screamed at me to break down, to hold my stomach where the tiny life inside me was quietly growing.
But I forced myself to stay still.
"Yeah," he said with relief. "Exactly."
He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against my lips, like nothing had changed.
"I should leave first," he added.
Then he stood up and walked toward the door.
I watched it close behind him.
Only then did the silence hit me.
The room felt colder somehow. Larger. Empty.
I held the tears back, forcing them down deep inside where no one could see them.
You're a smart girl.
You can handle this.
The ride home was quiet.
I sat in the back seat of the sleek black SUV—one of many luxuries that came with being Rixa's best friend. The city lights blurred past the window as my thoughts spiraled endlessly.
Rixa sat beside me, scrolling through her phone before suddenly looking up with excitement.
"My family and Mason's are having a celebratory dinner after our last papers," she said brightly. "I want you to come."
She gave me those familiar puppy eyes she always used when she wanted something.
If she knew what I had done…
She would probably hate me.
Maybe worse.
"That sounds like a family dinner," I said softly. "I don't want to impose."
It was a lie.
I imposed on her life every single day.
"You're my family," she replied immediately. "Greg will pick you up at six." Greg was her driver.
Her tone made it clear the decision wasn't up for debate.
I forced a small nod.
"Okay."
But as I leaned back against the seat, one thought echoed loudly in my mind.
I was going to be sitting across from Mason again very soon.
Who wouldn't love my life.