I’m about halfway done with my food when I decide to just get this over with. I look up at my brother. “Let’s just go get this over with,” I demand.
He doesn’t answer, instead, he drops his metal fork on top of the ceramic plate.
“Outside,” my dad barks.
We both slide our chairs out at the same time and head into the backyard. The minute my feet hit the grass, I pick up exactly where we left off yesterday. “He’s your best friend, Harry.”
“Exactly, he is my best friend, and that means I know things about him that you don’t. I know about things he’s done with women and how he’s used them and pushed them aside. I never cared because none of them were mysister.”
I have to swallow down the bile that starts to rise when I hear about Mason’s other women.
“It started out with us just sleeping together. Then, as we spent more time together, I started realizing that he wasn’t just this one-dimensional fuckboy. He’s smart, caring, kind, funny, and completely complex. There are layers to him that I never knew existed.” I try to pour myself out to Harry in an effort that he might understand my side.
“You think all of that is supposed to make me feel better? God, Bailey, it makes it so much worse!”
Suddenly, I have the urge to defend Mason because we both went into this arrangement together. I turn to face my brother fully, squaring my shoulders. “I went into this with a completely level head and you of all people should understand why. You saw what Tyler did to me and how I struggled with it. It broke me.” I throw my hands up and start pacing. “Harry, you had a front-row seat to that. You should trust me and my decisions.”
My brother’s expression turns soft. “But that’s why I don’t want him to hurt you because of what you’ve been through and what you deserve. And it’s not Mason.”
“Dammit, Harry,” I say in frustration with my brother’s inability to reason. “I have feelings for a man who I’ve no less than despised for most of my adult life, and that’s hard enough for me to process without the added stress from you!” I scream.
His shoulders sink. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I’m sorry he suckered you into climbing into his bed like all the other women before. Mason is a great friend; he’s been there for me for years, and he’s an incredible businessman, but he will never be good enough for you.”
My pulse accelerates, and my eyes leak once again, knowing what I’m about to tell my brother. “It’s not like that,” I whisper. “I think I’m in love with him.”
“Shit, Bailey. Are you serious?” Harry runs a hand through his hair.
“I am.”
“But what if he hurts you? What am I supposed to do? I’ll lose my best friend—and we own a restaurant together. I can’t even imagine how awkward that will be,” he complains, pacing back and forth, wearing down the same spot on the grass.
“Look, I understand your frustrations, but it’s really not about you. You’re my brother, and I love you, but you’re not going to dictate who I’m going to be with.”
“So, you’re saying you actually want to be with him?”
“I don’t know!” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “But if I do, that is between me and Mason. Do you get that?” I yell at him, hoping he hears me clearly.
I have taken a soft approach with him up to this point, trying to see his side of things, but the reality of the situation is that it’s just not about him.
“I’m not going to ever be okay with this; I hope you know that,” he snaps.
“I think I can live with that.”
“This is so messed up, Bailey. I’m leaving. Do what you want,” he says, turning his back to me and walking back into the house but not before slamming the sliding glass door shut.
I follow him a second later. My mom and dad are still sitting at the table, and Luca is now lying on the couch watching cartoons.
“Did you guys get it all sorted out?” my dad asks, optimism in his voice.
I nod. “I think so. He’ll get over it.”
My mom gives me a sympathetic look. “Are you going to give Mason a chance, honey?”
I keep my eyes on Luca, but I can still feel both of my parents’ stares blaze into me while they wait for my response. I can’t give them one right now. I can’t even give myself one yet.
“Come on, buddy, get your stuff. We’re going home to play Legos!” I call out. Luca hops off the couch, and he’s on his feet with his bag in no time. “Thanks for breakfast, Mom. I needed it.”
We say goodbye to my parents, and I have to pry Luca away from my mom. We all laugh because he acts like he never sees them.
