13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Mason

I shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable as I waited for Sophia to come back. This morning, she had been adamant that I shouldn’t go back to the apartment, that my time would be better spent down here. But right now, I wasn’t so sure. Especially because she had been vanishing every half an hour or so to take a phone call. Even if the call was only a few minutes, I couldn’t help being offended that she kept disappearing.

It wasn’t the fact that I wanted Sophia to be near me. Actually, I preferred to be alone, especially if I had a good, or at least okay, book. But watching her come and go left me feeling like an ignored child or a bad pet.

I pulled the coral-colored accent pillow to my lap and thought about kicking my feet up into the cushion beside me. Instead, I settled for toying with the string accents on the pillow. It didn’t help me get comfortable, but it still expelled the nervous energy bubbling just below my surface.

If it were up to me, I’d hide in the apartment for the foreseeable future, so I didn’t have any right to tell Sophia I felt like she was being rude. Plus, it was her house. As the guest, I needed to make sure I wasn’t a burden.

By the time Sophia came back, I had almost finished the novella I borrowed from her. It was something about a vampire pursuing a girl with diabetes, and while the plot was fine, it wasn’t dark or spicy enough for my liking.

“Sorry about that—work.” She laughed.

Work . I pulled every drop of knowledge I had on Sophia to fathom what she could do for a career. Before I left, she was double majoring in business and psychology. She had wanted to work in mental health and have a practice of her own. But was she even old enough to do any of that yet?

“Clients?” I asked.

But she stared at me like I had three heads before something clicked.

“Oh, I don’t really do clients.” She waved me off. “I mostly manage business operations.”

“Operations…?”

“Yeah! Operations, like the functions and stuff.” she explained. But I knew what the word meant; I just wasn’t sure what she meant.

“You’re a psychologist, right…?”

For the first time today, Sophia’s smile faltered. “That was the plan when you left, wasn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Ah, well.” she wove her fingers into her platinum hair, scratching at the back of her head. “I’d need a doctorate to do that, and I ended up dropping out right after I started my master’s.”

“What? Why?”

I tried to sound just shocked and not upset, but that was hard. Neither she nor Lucian had followed their dreams from when we were kids. The thought made me feel guilty, but I couldn’t figure out why.

Sophia didn’t answer my question. Instead, she looked at the family photo on the wall. “Life got in the way, I guess… but I help run a matchmaking company now. I’m the COO, actually, which is cool… Plus, it gave me a lot of really valuable experience I needed when I overtook the farm operations.”

I had no idea what those letters meant, but I wasn’t about to ask. I just assumed she was important—it was Sophia, after all. She was never one to get her hands dirty, and I couldn’t imagine someone as driven as her ever doing drivel work like grabbing coffee or sweeping floors. Sophia had always been destined for greatness. But even the brightest stars were prone to burning out.

“That sounds like a lot of work.” I mumbled, unable to keep from sticking my two cents somewhere it had no business being.

There was an unnatural stillness to Sophia as she folded her hands before crossing one knee over the other.

“It’s not that bad. Plus, being busy is good.”

Her voice frayed slightly at the end of her sentence, and I wondered if that was something she was used to repeating.

“Do you ever do anything for yourself?” I looked down at her well-manicured nails as I asked my question. It was clear Sophia maintained her appearance, but that was hardly what I’d consider downtime.

In this world, being pretty could open doors that would otherwise be closed. Science had proven that if you were attractive, people perceived you as smarter, kinder, and a plethora of other positive traits. That’s why my father was always so harsh on me about my looks. I already defied traditional beauty standards; if I were flat-out ugly, my career wouldn’t exist. I wondered if Sophia’s line of work was similar.

“Pssh, of course I do things for myself!” She waved me off with a laugh, but didn’t elaborate further.

I cocked my head, and her hand darted to her pocket.

“Would you look at that? I have another… thing I have to do.” She laughed more, but there was a nervous flutter to the sound. “You didn’t eat much breakfast. Why don’t you help yourself to a snack or something?”

Before I could protest, she was vanishing up the steps. A familiar sense of nausea loomed, and I knew she was right. If I ate, I wouldn’t vomit. Outside of pregnancy, that fact would have sounded like a contradiction, but currently, I was beholden to Lavender’s demands for sustenance. With that in mind, I grabbed the bookmark Sophia lent me and slipped it into my novella before standing up to head to the kitchen.

I’d normally be worried about getting lost in a house this massive due to my shitty sense of direction, but most of the bottom floor was rather open, and most of the rooms had archways rather than doors. The living room flowed directly into the kitchen, which made my journey pretty simple. But as soon as I stepped onto the well-polished hardwood, I realized: not only did I have no idea where anything was, I wasn’t sure what I was and wasn’t allowed to have.

A dull tingle started in my fingers, and I tried to remind myself to breathe. This wasn’t even a big deal. If there were something I wasn’t meant to touch, Sophia would probably have told me.

Slowly, I inched toward the fridge before pulling the handle back, allowing the cold air to sweep my face. I held my breath as I looked over the contents. There was a good amount of fruit and vegetables, and everything was in bulk containers. With a family this large, buying things wholesale must’ve been a necessity. I reached in and grabbed a singular string cheese and a can of sparkling water. If the cheese alone wasn’t enough to settle my stomach, the bubbles surely would.

With my bounty in hand, I meandered to the island and pulled myself up onto one of the high-backed stools. I snuck one of my nails under the tab on the water and pulled up, causing some of the drink to escape into the rim of the can. I bent down, holding my hair back as I sucked up the citrus-flavored bubbles. The drink was so cold it almost made me shiver. With my thirst quenched, I opened my cheese, making a game of pulling off the thinnest strands possible.

I had learned recently that if I ate slowly, I didn’t need as much not to feel hungry. I was barely halfway into my snack when feet sounded against the tiles. Foolishly, I assumed Sophia had probably finished her meeting and was back to give me twenty minutes of conversation before her next one....

Until Lucian walked into my line of sight, ignoring my existence, which was probably for the best. I tried to do the same, but I couldn’t force myself to look away as he opened the fridge. From where I was seated, all I could see was his back. I wondered what he was looking for.

“Did you have lunch yet?” he called, head still buried in the fridge.

I looked around the empty kitchen. Maybe Sophia was just out of earshot.

“Earth to Mason.” His voice was louder this time. “Did you have lunch yet?”

I looked down at my half-strung cheese.

“Yeah.”

No sooner than I responded, he was standing in front of me, hand planted on the quartz countertop. With him so close, I noticed a tattoo of vines running along his left hand, snaking down his fingers. It was gorgeous. Did he have more tattoos? How many, I wondered?

My face went hot as I imagined Lucian shirtless, imagining the ink he may or may not have etched into his skin. Right now, his decency was preserved by a green button-down that looked to be about a size too large.

I forced myself to make eye contact with him. That seemed like a good way to stop myself from mentally undressing my future brother-in-law.

“What did you have?” Lucian asked.

“Excuse me?”

“For lunch. What did you have for lunch?” An edge took over his words, adding an argumentative tension to our otherwise casual conversation. The anger in his words clouded my mind, making it impossible for me to come up with a coherent lie. All I could focus on was how small the tone in his voice made me feel.

“Cool, you’re eating a sandwich with me,” Lucian declared as he started to root through the fridge.

“What? No!”

My protest was automatic. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the idea of eating a sandwich, especially one made by Lucian. From my memories, he was an amazing cook, and I had been craving any and all carbs. I wasn’t even worried about inconveniencing him. Instead, I felt intense guilt at the thought that Lucian might still like me.

“It wasn’t a question.”

Lucian grabbed a few things from the fridge. Tomatoes, spinach, and what I assumed was fresh mozzarella all appeared on the counter in front of me as Lucian turned to grab bread from a box on the other side of the room. On his way back to the island, he grabbed a cutting board and a serrated knife.

“Can I at least do it?” I asked as Lucian set his tools down.

He shot me an icy look as he placed a bowl-shaped loaf of bread on the board and sawed off two thick pieces.

“No.”

He popped the bread into a nearby toaster oven before moving on to the tomatoes. An awkward silence fell in the room, and I cleared my throat, hoping to break it. But, when that didn’t work, I had to talk.

“So… how have you been?”

Lucian stopped mid-slice on the tomato to glare at me. His gaze trained on mine, forcing me to look away as my skin started to tingle.

“If you wanted to know, you wouldn’t have left.” His words were barbed and cold; I knew I deserved every bit of the ice in his tone.

Was now a good time to tell him I left because of his dad? Or that I thought his world would be better without me? All I ever wanted was for everyone around me to live their dreams. My aspirations were malleable, just as long as everyone around me was happy.

“I’m sorry for that, by the way.” I picked at a loose string on the cuff of my hoodie.

A bark of Lucian’s laughter filled the kitchen like gunfire.

“Excuse me?” He snorted.

“For leaving—”

“You should be. I hope you regret it for the rest of your life.” Lucian was sure of himself, but he hadn’t let me finish.

No part of me regretted leaving. I was a plague. I regretted not giving him and Sophia closure. If I had, maybe they wouldn’t still be hung up on me.

“Do you have any idea how terrible my life has been since you left?” he continued.

I shook my head.

“Cool, so here are the ways you fucked up my life, in chronological order. First, you broke my heart in front of my fucking dad, which caused my anxiety to get worse...”

I tried to tune out Lucian’s ramblings. I didn’t enjoy hearing that I caused his addiction, that I gave him a crippling fear of abandonment, and God knows what else... But I liked that he was telling me all this. It meant some part of him still cared about me.

Contrary to popular belief, hatred wasn’t the farthest thing from love; indifference was. Having Lucian care enough to tear me a new one meant my presence still had some pull on him. Besides, I’d rather be hated than loved. His hatred could only hurt me , whereas both of us were at risk if I loved him.

“–and now, you’re fucking pregnant with my fucking boyfriend’s child .” Lucian finished his list of grievances before sliding me half a sandwich.

“Eat.”

My mouth watered as I stared down at the golden-brown bread filled with cheese and tomato. I swallowed hard as my hands shook with the urge to obey him.

Still, I shook my head. “That’s yours.”

Lucian grabbed his half of the sandwich and walked around the island to sit beside me. He popped open a can of diet soda, slurping it before picking up his lunch. The crust cracked as Lucian took a bite, licking his lower lip to collect the stray crumbs. He gestured for me to take a bite as he chewed.

“Feed the baby,” he mumbled through a full mouth.

I looked down at my swollen stomach before softly rubbing it as I tried to shake off the icy feeling sticking to my shoulders.

“She says she’s not hungry.”

Lucian muttered something under his breath. At first, I tried to listen closely, hoping to catch a glimpse into what Lucian didn’t want me to know, but I quickly realized he wasn’t speaking English. More proof that I was a terrible girlfriend when we were together—if I really cared about him, I would’ve at least attempted to learn Spanish.

“Last night, I watched a few videos you posted to your social media,” he admitted.

“Are you a fan?”

I hoped he wasn’t. The idea of someone I was once close to being a fan made me uneasy. I had never wanted to be Mason Albright, the celebrity. I just wanted to write music. I liked seeing other people shine, but the limelight was drawn to me like a magnet. It was suffocating.

“Hardly… but I noticed that you’ve lost weight since getting pregnant, and—”

“It’s morning sickness!” I promised, willing him not to read further into it.

“I’m not done,” he spat. “You can blame it on morning sickness all you want, but I know James loves to make you starve.”

The concern in Lucian’s eyes was a stark contrast to his harsh tone.

“My dad likes to control everything,” I whispered. “But he knows what he’s doing. I’m a superstar.”

“A superstar,” he murmured. “Listen. I don’t give a fuck what you think you are. You’re not my concern.”

My nose wrinkled. He was practically forcing me to eat. What else could he be concerned about?

“That’s my boyfriend’s baby.” He pointed to my stomach. “I’m not letting you hurt her just because you don’t know how to be a parent.”

A gasp threatened to escape me. My daughter wasn’t even here, and he was accusing me of hurting her?

“Cameron is going to have no part in her life. He’s–”

“The second he sees her, that’s going to change, and you’re fucking stupid if you don’t think that.

I didn’t need this. I pushed my stool out and hopped down onto the floor.

“Sure, go ahead and run. That’ll work out great when you have an infant depending on you,” he taunted. Something about his holier-than-thou attitude really pissed me off.

“How are you going to judge me at all? Cameron said you’re a hothead who can’t stay sober.” I wasn’t sure if that was the exact quote, but it felt close enough.

”I am sober.” Lucian took another drink of his soda.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m so sober I could pass a piss test.” he continued. “And I won’t be offended if you tell me I was a shitty dad. I know that. But I’m actively trying to be better for my kids. What are you doing, other than starving yourself for a father who never wanted you?”

My eyes burned as my throat ached. Every fiber of my being was crying out, begging to tell Lucian he was wrong. My dad used to love me, but he lost that love the first time I set foot in the States. I knew if I just made him proud enough, he’d love me again.

Not that Lucian would ever understand that. Instead of correcting him, I filled my lungs with a shaky breath and held my head high before walking away. I was going back to the apartment. I could tell Sebastian I had tried, but no part of me wanted to join whatever mess was going on down here.