My heart swells, and I rub the ache in my chest. He loves me.
“Great. Good for you, Dad. So what now? You think I’m gonna stay here and play happy families?” He huffs. “You’ll be asking me to call her Mom next.”
Mason’s right. This was never going to work out between us. I was wrong for pushing this and wanting Flint. I’m a silly girl. Selfish. Stupid.
“I can’t give her up, Mason.”
“Surprise, surprise. You never made me your priority. Why should you start now?”
I fill a bag with the few things I have in Flint’s room, fresh tears streaming down my face as the pair of them talk at the bottom of the stairs, their words slicing at my heart.
“That’s not fair. I wasn’t around much because I worked hard, for you and your mother. Fat lot of good it did when she was banging Doug, the IT guy.”
“Can I go now?” Mason squares up to his dad who’s blocking the doorway. Mason’s almost as tall, but nowhere near as bulky.
“You don’t need to leave,” I say as I carry my bag down the stairs.
Flint swallows, his eyes widening. “Where are you going?”
I grab my car keys from the hook at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going to work and then I’ll stay with Jo.” I turn to Mason. “Please don’t leave. This is your home. I’m sorry.”
“Sera, no. This is your home too.” Flint’s voice wavers.
“I thought it could’ve been. But I won’t come between you.”
He stands in front of the door like an immovable statue.
“Please, Flint. I have to go.”
“Sera. Not like this.” Flint’s eyes cloud over like a snowy sky.
“Please, Flint. We can talk later. But right now you need to sort things out with Mason.”
“Don’t bother, Sera. It’s clear he cares more about you than me.”
“Mason—” Flint’s voice is desperate. “You don’t understand?—”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Mason spits, stepping closer, jaw tight. “You’ve spent my whole life running into fires. Saving everyone but the people who actually needed you.”
Flint flinches. His lips twitch as though Mason hit a nerve.
Mason shakes his head. “And now you’ve torched what little family we had left.”
The silence is deafening.
I press a trembling hand to my chest, watching Flint’s shoulders drop, the fight bleeding out of him. His guilt is written all over his face.
“Please, son,” he rasps, but the words sound hollow.
I step past him, heart splintering. “We can talk later,” I whisper. “You need to put out this fire first.”
Flint’s eyes close, pain carving deep lines into his face. He stands barefoot, defeated, the man who runs into fires suddenly looking like he doesn’t know how to fight.
I reach for the door handle, tears blurring the falling snow outside. My feet are like lead weights as I make footprints in thedusting of snow, but I have to go. I have to make things right, and staying would only make things worse. Mason needs his dad more than I do. I’m used to having nothing. At least this time, I haven’t been abandoned. It’s time to stand on my own two feet.
Chapter Sixteen
FLINT
