“Come in, Flint. I’ll make us a coffee. I have a De’Longhi Magnifica, you know.”
“Of course you do.” I follow the two of them down Lauren’s hall and into her pristine kitchen. No wonder Mason liked hanging out at my place, this house is more like a show house than a home.
Mason folds his arms, leaning against a kitchen unit. “So go on, Dad. Let’s hear it. The grand speech.”
Hairs prickle on the back of my neck, and my whole body itches under their intense gaze. “I just wanted to see you. Make sure you’re okay.”
Lauren leans against the counter like she’s settling in for a show, while her fancy coffee machine percolates.
“I’m great,” he says flatly. “Mom and I were just decorating the tree. Family stuff. You remember what that’s like?”
“Watch it.”
He shrugs. “Why are you even here? Feeling guilty?”
“I’ve been feeling guilty for a long damn time, son. Long before Sera.”
That makes him pause, just slightly. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“I get that you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry.” His voice cracks. “I’m disappointed.”
The words hit harder than any punch.
“I didn’t plan for this,” I say quietly. “Sera… she needed someone. And I needed?—”
“Someone to warm your bed?”
I rub my forehead. “Company. It’s been fucking lonely since you left for college.”
Lauren places a hand on her chest, mocking me. “My heart bleeds for you, Flint.”
Mason’s jaw twitches.
I shrug. “Guess I’m human after all.”
He huffs. “You always think you can fix everything. Guess what? You can’t fix this.”
“Maybe not today,” I say, “but I’m not giving up on us. You’re my son. I love you. You’ll always come first, no matter what happens between me and Sera.”
“Is that why you let her go?”
“I haven’t let her go. I’ve just given her space.”
He looks away, voice lower now. “I dropped in to the diner a few days ago. She said she’s sleeping on her friend’s sofa.”
I swallow hard. “I know. She said she won’t be the one to come between us.”
“How heroic of her.” Lauren’s sarcastic tone makes my lips curl in disgust. “Here—one cappuccino à la De’Longhi Magnifica. Don’t say I never treat you.”
“Thanks.” I take the glass mug from her. “You haven’t spat in it have you?”
Mason cracks a smile and my shoulders relax a little, hoping he’s coming around. “I feel bad for her, Dad.”
“Who, your mother?” I look up at Lauren. “She seems to be doing all right for herself. I mean she has a De’Longhi Magnifica, you know.”
“No. I mean Sera.” He pulls the hoodie down from his head and runs his hands through his messy, unwashed hair.
