“I’ve been worried lately…” He chugs his bottle of water.
Worried?
The words land like a gut punch. “Worried about what?”
He takes a long pull from his water bottle, sets it down, and rakes a hand through his hair before leaning back into the couch like the weight of the world is pressing down on him.
“I’m worried she’s never going to live a life that’s truly hers,” he says. “She grew up inmyshadow. And now…” He gestures to me. “She’s in yours.”
“She is not in my shadow. Maddie has become fiercely independent at school,” I say defensively.
“No, she hasn’t. More confident, most definitely,notindependent. She’s thriving in her classes and participates in the one-off activity. But how many friends does she have here that aren’t connected to you?”
I go to open my mouth, and nothing comes out.
“How many times has she gone to a party without you? Made a decision that didn’t include you? Done something spontaneous just forher?”
He isn’t wrong. And that pisses me off even more.
“You know how she is. She doesn’t trust easily. She isn’t going to waste time making friends for no reason. And she had Addie until this year.”
“Yeah, and only if Addie initiated or pushed Maddie out of her comfort zone would she do something, but she never initiated it on her own.” His voice is quiet now. Thoughtful. It’s clear he’s been chewing on this for a long time. “Before she met either of you, I always hoped that college would finally be her chance to step into her own identity. No big brother hovering, or people using her to get close to me. But instead, she fell right into your orbit. A different kind of shadow.”
The anger bubbling inside me begins to turn, morphing into something more complicated.
Guilt, doubt, and maybe even grief at the idea that he might not be totally wrong.
“Why now?” I ask. “Why bring this up after all these years?”
“I’ve thought about saying something a hundred times. End of camp. Her first year at college. But I didn’t. Thought maybe I was overreacting. That it’d work itself out.” He sighs. “But now you’re graduating and moving home. And it hit me that if something doesn’t change now, it might never.”
“I just made an offer on a place for us in the city,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m going to marry her, Mason. What’s the point of separating now?”
“The point is, if she doesn’t build her own foundationnow, she’ll always wonder if she only got where she is because ofyou. She worked too damn hard to second-guess her worth,” he says. “I don’t want her to wonder if that’s because she’s Nate Davenport’sgirlfriendor Nate Davenport’swife. Or worse, be accused of getting a leg up because of who she’s with, and believe it. She’ll relive her whole childhood, the exact opposite of what I wanted for her.”
I drop my head into my hands. His words slam into me with the force of a freight train.
He’s not wrong.
And that’s what’s killing me. But I can’t even fathom being with anyone but Maddie.
“I feel sick,” I mutter.
“You know as well as I do that the day she moves to New York, your life together will change entirely. Tabloids constantly write about you and your brothers. Four young, successful men from billionaire families get a lot of attention, and you know it. She’s a poor girl from a small country town. They’re going to have a field day.”
“Fuck.”
“This isn’t about you. Or me,” Mason says quietly. “It’s about Maddie. What’s best for her long-term.”
“Iamwhat’s best for her,” I whisper, but even to my ears, it sounds weak and defensive.
“You love her. I know that. Hell, I’ve never doubted that. But maybe loving her means giving her space to figure out who she is outside of you. And I’m not saying you’re not long-term, I’m saying you’re not right now.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it all out. “I can’t…I can’t do that.”
“You can,” he says. “Because you’re one of the most selfless people I know, Nate. Think it over before you shut the door completely.”
Then he walks out, leaving me with a shit pile of emotions at my feet.
