desertion

145

LYDIA

The next morning, I walked into the station with my head down, my backpack slung over one shoulder. The familiar buzz of the precinct greeted me, but it felt distant, like background noise.

I made my way to the small office where Mason and I worked. He was already there, tapping his pen on the desk as he scrolled through some files. When he saw me, he smiled and waved.

"Morning," he said cheerfully.

I nodded, forcing a small smile before sliding into my chair. "Morning."

Usually, I'd be the one starting the conversation, cracking a joke, or asking about the latest case we were working on. But today, I just opened my coursework and focused on my notes, the weight of last night pressing down on me like a stone.

Mason glanced back at me a couple of times, and I could feel his curiosity growing. We'd only been working together for a week, but we'd clicked immediately. It was easy to talk to him-easier than I expected it to be. Yet today, I couldn't bring myself to say much of anything.

I scribbled down notes for my next assignment, my thoughts drifting. The argument with Miles replayed in my mind, his words cutting deeper each time I thought about them. Was he right? Had I really been so consumed by the internship that I'd neglected everything else?

As I worked, I realized something that made my stomach churn. I was the problem. I hadn't even tried to balance my life. I'd poured everything into the internship, and Miles had been left to fend for himself in the relationship.

I sighed, gripping my pen tightly as I tried to refocus on my notes. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? This was the job I'd dreamed of, the person I'd always wanted to be. Then why did it feel so heavy?

A few hours passed in near silence, the tension in the room growing thicker with each passing minute. Finally, Mason swiveled his chair around to face me, breaking the quiet.

"Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

I glanced up from my notes, startled. "I'm fine," I said quickly, brushing it off. "It's no big deal."

Mason raised an eyebrow and wheeled his chair closer to me. "It is a big deal," he said firmly. "You've been quiet all day, and that's not like you. I miss my bright, chatty partner."

I smiled faintly, looking down at my notes. "I'm just tired," I muttered.

"Tired doesn't make you shut down like this," Mason said, his voice gentle but insistent. "Come on, Lydia. What's going on?"

Something about the way he said my name, the genuine concern in his voice, made the walls I'd been holding up all morning start to crumble. I didn't know why-maybe it was the way Mason always seemed to listen without judgment, or the fact that we'd built such a strong connection in such a short time-but before I knew it, the words were spilling out.

I told him about Miles, about the argument, about how I'd realized that I'd been the problem all along. I admitted how much it hurt to let go of someone I cared about, even though I knew it was the right thing to do.

Mason didn't interrupt. He just listened, his expression soft and understanding. When I finally finished, I let out a shaky breath, surprised at how much I'd shared.

"I've never talked about stuff like this so fast," I admitted, fiddling with my pen. "Not with Miles, not even with my dad."

Mason leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face. "Well, maybe it's because you know I won't judge you," he said simply. "We've all got our stuff, Lydia. You don't have to carry it alone."

His words hit me harder than I expected, and for the first time all day, I felt a tiny flicker of relief.

"Thanks," I said quietly, meeting his gaze.

"Anytime," he replied, his smile widening. "Now, let's get back to work before Darden decides to yell at us for slacking off."

I laughed softly, the tension in my chest easing just a little. Mason had a way of making even the heaviest moments feel lighter, and for that, I was grateful.

As we turned back to our work, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I'd thought.