desertion

150

MASON

I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone-least of all someone like Lydia. She's so... different. In the best way. Every time I look at her, it's like she sees straight through all the walls I've spent years building. And trust me, there are a lot of walls. My past didn't exactly lend itself to healthy relationships.

I grew up with a mother who cared more about the bottle in her hand than the kid in front of her, and a father who barely acknowledged I existed. He was too busy playing house with his other family to bother with me. I learned early on that love wasn't something you could count on.

But then Lydia came crashing into my life, like some kind of whirlwind I never saw coming. She's relentless in the best way-her curiosity, her passion, her heart. She cares, truly cares, about people. About me. And God, I don't know how to handle it.

She's shown me a kind of care I've never experienced before. It's in the little things, like how she always brings me coffee in the mornings, even though she complains about how early it is. Or how she makes sure I eat something when I get too caught up in work. And the way she looks at me... I don't know how to describe it. It's like I'm not just another person in her orbit. Like I matter.

But I can't tell her how I feel. If I do, I'll ruin everything. I'll scare her away, just like I've scared everyone else away.

It's late in the afternoon, and we're sitting in the office, going over the Daniel Carter case. Lydia's hair is pulled into a messy bun, a pen tucked behind her ear as she flips through the pages of a report. She's muttering to herself, something about timelines and inconsistencies, and I can't help but smile.

"What?" she asks, glancing up at me with those eyes-the ones that make my chest tighten every time I see them.

"Nothing," I say quickly, clearing my throat. "You're just... focused."

She raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "That's the nicest way anyone's ever told me I look like a mess."

I laugh, shaking my head. "I didn't say that."

"You implied it," she teases, sticking her tongue out before returning to the report.

It's moments like this that make it so hard to keep my feelings to myself. I want to tell her how much I admire her. How much I... love her. But I can't. She deserves someone better than me. Someone with less baggage.

Later, as we're packing up for the day, Lydia turns to me with a thoughtful expression.

"Hey, Mason?" she says, her voice softer than usual.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for putting up with me," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. "I know I can be a lot sometimes."

I frown, stepping closer to her. "Lydia, you're not 'a lot.' You're... amazing. Don't ever think otherwise."

She blinks, surprised by the intensity in my voice. "I... thanks," she says, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

I look away, feeling like I've said too much. But then she reaches out and touches my arm, her fingers warm against my skin.

"Mason," she says, her tone serious now. "You're one of the best people I know. Don't sell yourself short, okay?"

I want to tell her that I'm not the person she thinks I am. That I'm broken in ways she can't even imagine. But the way she's looking at me... it's like she believes in me. And for the first time in a long time, I want to believe in myself, too.

That night, I lie awake in bed, replaying our conversation over and over again. I can still feel the warmth of her hand on my arm, hear the softness in her voice as she told me I mattered.

I want to be brave enough to tell her how I feel. To tell her that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. But every time I think about it, fear grips me like a vice.

What if I scare her away? What if I ruin everything?

I've spent my whole life convincing myself that I don't need anyone. That I'm better off alone. But Lydia makes me want more. She makes me want a life I never thought I could have.

And that terrifies me.

For now, all I can do is keep my feelings to myself. I'll keep being her partner, her friend, and the person she can rely on. Because if that's all I can have, it's enough. It has to be.

But God... the way she looks at me. It's going to be the death of me.

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the gif at the top is weird, I know. I really just thought it fit the chapter..