But most of all?
At least from the interactions I’d had with Mason and Connor, the former somehow seemedmoreopen and emotionally available than he had ten years ago. Connor, meanwhile, seemedlessopen and vulnerable than all those years back.
I would have expected the latter, especially after what the Bandits did to me. But what transformations and changes had Mason undergone? How had he emerged a stronger, healthier man?
Or was he just so sick of whatever had dragged him down that he had stopped worrying about it, choosing instead to focus on at least the better parts of life?
I didn’t know. I knew I had only recently,veryrecently, decided to try and come out of my shell. Maybe he was doing the same.
Maybe we could finally learn what we’d really wanted to about each other at that pizza shop ten years ago.
* * *
I awoke a bit later, surprised to realize that I’d fallen asleep on the couch. I guessed the whole “see your former rapist at the restaurant you want to get dinner at and then be protected by your former childhood friends” thing had exhausted me far more than I would have expected. The sun had already crested the horizon and was up quite a bit.
I reached over for my phone and checked the time. It was just before ten o’clock. I didn’t have anything to do today for the moment, but I would need to go grocery shopping for dinner at some point. I knew Mason’s words rang true—I could no longer go out in public, not with everything seemingly about to implode at any moment.
I ended up making myself breakfast—oatmeal with blueberries and walnuts—and sat on the couch, reading a light-hearted mystery novel. My tastes had always erred on the side of enjoyable, quick, easy reads, but that had become doubly true in the last decade. Some people got a bit of cathartic release from reading about something that reminded them of their past; I just got triggered whenever such a thing happened.
Around one in the afternoon, I headed to the grocery store, convinced that that would be the safest hour, a mixture of when it would be light out and the Bandits would likely be asleep or back at their homes. Judging by the parking lot, I was somewhat right; there were motorcycles there, but I didn’t see anything about them to suggest they were Bandits.
Maybe, if anything, they were of the Black Reapers, and I’d run into one of them.Mason, perhaps.
I walked through the different aisles, procuring fruit, vegetables, pasta, and a little bit of chicken. Though I didn’t drink much, I had a habit of going down every aisle, including the beer and liquor one, just to ensure that I left no stone unturned. I made my way around—
“Woah.”
“Mason! Hey!”
I felt my heart flutter at having nearly bumped into him. He was a large man, but this close, he was like a wall—impossible to see around, sturdy, and immovable.
“You’re out?” he said, more surprised than concerned.
“Better here in the afternoon than at Southwest Dine.”
“True.”
There was something hesitant about him. His body looked like it wanted to turn away, and his eyes looked like they needed to pay attention to something behind him.
“Mason?”
It wasn’t me who said that. It was…
Mason turned. He stepped to the side. And there…there he was.
Brock.
My former lover, the man I’d swore I would marry before my life fell apart. The man that had been everything for me, the man that had sworn revenge for what had happened, the man…
No, he was just a boy then. We were all kids in one sense or another. But this Brock, with his facial hair, hardened eyes, and early signs of creasing, was most definitely a man.
“Rachel…”
Mason stepped aside and walked the other way down the aisle. I couldn’t believe I noticed that. I quickly turned my attention back to Brock, though, and tried to get in touch with how I felt about him.
There was little doubt I still cared for him. I had always wanted the best for him, and even when I felt so fragile that I just wanted to be alone, I never stopped hoping that he’d find peace and freedom. It was certainly emotional seeing him.
But the days of heart-pounding, stomach-flipping, spine-tingling love?
