desertion

165

LYDIA

It hadn't been long since Mason and I started something more than friendship. Only two days, but everything felt different now. Everything about the way we worked together, how we found comfort in each other, it all felt right. It wasn't just about the cases we cracked or the laughter we shared-though those were important too. It was about the quiet moments, the small gestures, the way he was there for me when I needed him the most. I could feel it deep inside: we were good for each other.

We were partners in more ways than one. We fit together, like puzzle pieces that didn't need to be forced, and it felt natural, effortless. It felt safe, which was a feeling I hadn't been familiar with before, but now that I had it, I never wanted to let it go.

But even with all that, I knew Mason had his past-just like I had mine. And I wasn't going to rush him to open up about it. He'd come to me when he was ready.

That evening, we were sitting in the small, quiet corner of the breakroom at the station. The table between us was littered with paperwork, a few files, and half-empty coffee cups, but we weren't looking at any of it. We were looking at each other. He was leaning back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms, hands laced together. His gaze was distant, like his mind was elsewhere, and I couldn't help but notice the change in the air. Something was different tonight. He wasn't just zoning out from the exhaustion of the case or the work piling up on our desks.

"Mason?" I asked softly, gently breaking the silence.

He blinked, his gaze snapping back to me. "Yeah?"

"You've been quiet for a while now," I said, furrowing my brow a little. "What's on your mind?"

He sighed, letting his hands fall to the table, fingers absently tapping on the edge. For a moment, he didn't say anything, and I was starting to get the feeling that this wasn't a conversation I could rush. I kept my gaze steady, not pushing, just letting him know I was here when he was ready.

After what felt like a long silence, Mason looked at me, his eyes soft but guarded. "There's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice quiet. "Something about my past. I... I never really talked about it before."

My heart gave a small jolt. I wasn't sure what he was about to say, but I could tell this was something important to him. Something he had been holding onto for a long time.

I leaned in slightly, my voice soft but steady. "Mason, you don't have to tell me if you're not ready. But if you do, I'm here."

He nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I want to tell you. I need to."

I waited, and in the stillness of the room, I could hear his voice break a little when he spoke again. "I grew up with parents who didn't give a damn about me," he began, the words coming out slow, as if they were heavy on his tongue. "My mom... she was an alcoholic. She was always too drunk to care, too lost in her own world to see what was going on around her. And my dad... he had his own family to worry about. He left us when I was young, moved on like I was just some inconvenience."

I could feel the weight of his words, the sadness hanging in the air between us. I didn't interrupt him, just watched him, my concern growing with every word. I wanted to say something, to comfort him, but I knew it wasn't my place to speak yet. This was his story, and he needed to tell it in his own time.

He continued, his voice a little tighter now, like the memories were harder to breathe through. "I grew up on my own. My mom was never really there, and my dad... well, he wasn't either. I had to figure everything out by myself. Take care of myself. There were nights I didn't know if I could make it through. I didn't have anyone to rely on. I thought maybe if I kept pushing, if I kept going, things might get better, but they never did."

I reached across the table, my hand gently brushing over his. He looked down at it, then up at me, his eyes a mixture of vulnerability and pain.

"But I made it," he said, his voice quieter now, almost like he was reassuring himself. "I made it because I had no other choice. And now, I've got you." His lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile, and my heart fluttered in my chest. "You... you're the first person in my life who's actually been there for me. I don't know what I would do without you."

I wasn't sure what to say at first, the emotions swirling inside me, but I couldn't hold back anymore. I stood up from my chair and walked around the table, kneeling down in front of him, taking both of his hands in mine. My heart swelled, the overwhelming warmth of his words sinking in.

"Mason," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I'm here. I'm here for you, always. You don't have to do this alone anymore."

He exhaled slowly, as if some of the tension inside him had melted away. The sincerity in his eyes made my chest tighten, and I could feel the weight of everything he had been through. He had carried it all on his own for so long, and now he didn't have to. Now, he had me.

I pulled him into a hug, my arms wrapping around him tightly, like I could somehow erase the pain he'd been carrying. He hugged me back just as tightly, and for a moment, everything felt right. Like the world had fallen into place.

"I'm here," I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest. "Whenever you need me."

He sighed deeply, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, before he kissed the top of my head softly. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for being here."

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. In that moment, I knew that we were exactly where we needed to be. We didn't have to talk about it all the time, but knowing we were there for each other, that was everything.

Eventually, Mason pulled back, his hands resting on my shoulders. He smiled at me, a small, genuine smile that reached his eyes.

"We're good for each other, you know that?" he said softly.

I smiled back, my heart warm. "I do now."

Mason's eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine. "You're everything I never knew I needed," he whispered.

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. "And you're everything I've been waiting for."

We stayed there for a while longer, just holding each other, knowing that whatever came next, we would face it together. Because we were a team now. We were each other's safe place, and nothing else mattered.

The past didn't define us anymore. We had each other, and that was all we needed.