desertion

166

LYDIA

The office was quiet, the kind of stillness that let me hear my own heartbeat. Mason and I were knee-deep in case files, trying to piece together the details of a burglary gone wrong. Normally, we worked like a team, each of us picking up where the other left off, but something felt different today. Tense. Heavy. Maybe it was the case. Maybe it was us.

"Alright," Mason muttered, flipping through a file. "The timeline from the witness says the suspect left through the back alley around 10:30 PM. But the surveillance footage doesn't show anyone leaving the alley until after 11:00. So either they're lying, or the footage was tampered with."

I nodded, jotting down notes. "What about the bartender's statement? She said she saw someone matching the suspect's description heading out through the main door, not the alley."

Mason frowned. "That doesn't line up. If they left through the main door, they'd have been seen by at least five other witnesses, but no one else mentioned it."

"Unless..." I tapped my pen against the edge of the desk, thinking. "Unless the bartender mixed up her times. She could've seen them earlier, before the robbery even happened."

"That's possible," Mason said, though his tone sounded distracted. "But it feels too convenient, doesn't it? Like we're grasping at straws."

I hesitated, looking at him. "Maybe, but we've worked with less before. It's worth checking out."

Mason sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Sure, but I'm telling you, the alley's our best lead. If we focus there, we might actually get somewhere."

I frowned, feeling the first twinge of frustration. "Mason, we can't just dismiss the bartender's statement because it doesn't fit. What if she's right?"

He shook his head, the tension in his shoulders growing. "And what if she's not? Lydia, we don't have time to chase every dead end. We need to focus on what's solid."

"That's what I'm trying to do!" I snapped, my voice rising slightly. "I'm not saying we ignore the alley, but we can't just throw out evidence because it's inconvenient."

Mason leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not throwing anything out. I'm trying to keep us on track. You're the one getting stuck on the bartender's story like it's the key to everything."

"Because it might be!" I shot back, my frustration boiling over. "Why can't you just trust me on this?"

"I do trust you," he said, his voice tight. "But you're not listening to me, Lydia. You're so focused on proving your point that you're not even considering the bigger picture."

My chest tightened, his words hitting a nerve. "That's not true. I'm trying to solve this case just like you are. But apparently, my ideas don't matter as much as yours."

"That's not what I said," Mason said, his voice rising. "But fine, if you want to make this about you, go ahead."

I froze, stunned. "Make this about me? Are you serious right now?"

He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Lydia, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying-"

"You're just saying I'm impossible, right?" I interrupted, my voice trembling. "That's what you really think, isn't it?"

"God, Lydia, stop twisting my words!" Mason snapped, slamming his hand down on the desk.

The sound echoed through the room, sharp and loud. I flinched, my breath catching in my throat. My heart raced, and for a moment, I couldn't move. Mason had never yelled at me like that before, never lost his temper like this.

He noticed my reaction immediately, his expression shifting to one of regret. "Lydia, I-"

"No," I cut him off, my voice shaking. "Don't. Just don't."

I grabbed a stack of files and moved to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between us as I could. My hands trembled as I flipped through the papers, my vision blurred by tears.

I wasn't cut out for this. For any of it.

Every little noise-the creak of his chair, the rustle of paper-felt too loud, too sharp. The memory of his hand hitting the desk replayed in my mind, making me flinch all over again.

I wiped at my tears, trying to focus on the files in front of me, but it was useless. My thoughts were too loud, filled with doubts and insecurities that I couldn't shake.

"Lydia."

His voice was soft, hesitant. I didn't look up.

"Lydia, I'm sorry," he said, his footsteps approaching slowly.

I felt him behind me before I saw him, his warmth a stark contrast to the cold tension in the room. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. His arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me into a hug.

"I shouldn't have yelled," he murmured. "I shouldn't have slammed the desk. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

I closed my eyes, leaning into him despite myself. "It was my fault," I whispered. "I was just being dumb, like always."

Mason pulled back slightly, spinning me around to face him. His hands cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Don't say that," he said firmly. "You're not dumb, Lydia. Don't talk about yourself like that."

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "We've only been together for two weeks, Mason, and we're already fighting. What does that say about us?"

"It says we're human," he said, brushing a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "Couples argue, Lydia. It happens. But it doesn't mean we're not good together. It doesn't mean we can't work through it."

I buried my face in my hands, my leg bouncing anxiously. "I just... I don't want to mess this up."

"You're not messing anything up," Mason said, gently pulling my hands away from my face. "If anything, I'm the one who messed up. I let my frustration get the best of me, and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

I nodded, unable to find the words as he pulled me into his arms again. His embrace was warm and steady, grounding me in a way I desperately needed.

"You're amazing," Mason said softly, his lips brushing against my temple. "And I'm lucky to have you."

I felt a small smile tug at my lips as I looked up at him. "I guess we're both pretty lucky, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice filled with quiet conviction.

And just like that, the tension melted away, replaced by a quiet understanding that we were in this together-no matter what.