desertion

182

LYDIA

The tension was suffocating. Even after a week, Mason and I couldn't find our way back to normal. He was snapping at me over the smallest things-things he never used to care about-and every time he did, I just let it happen.

I told myself it was because he didn't mean it. That he was frustrated with the case, with himself, with everything but me. But that didn't stop the words from sticking to me like thorns, sharp and painful.

I sat at my desk, the dull hum of the overhead light making my headache worse. Mason was across the room, his chair creaking as he leaned back, a stack of papers in his hands. I could feel his gaze on me, even though he hadn't said anything in a while.

His earlier comment still echoed in my mind, cutting deeper every time I replayed it. "You're so caught up in your head, Lydia. It's like you don't even care what happens anymore."

I bit the inside of my cheek, staring down at the case file in front of me. Of course, I cared. That was the problem-I cared too much. But no matter how hard I worked, how much I threw myself into the case, it felt like I was sinking deeper and deeper into a pit I couldn't climb out of.

Across the room, Mason sighed loudly, dragging me out of my thoughts.

"Did you even hear what I said earlier?" he asked, his voice clipped.

I looked up at him, frowning. "What?"

He rolled his eyes, dropping the papers onto his desk with a loud slap. "Figures. You're too busy obsessing over nothing to pay attention."

My jaw tightened, but I said nothing.

"Seriously, Lydia," he continued, shaking his head. "It's like you're not even here half the time. If you're going to zone out, at least do it somewhere else."

That one stung. But I kept my mouth shut, my hands curling into fists under the desk.

********

Just a few days ago, we'd had another argument.

"Lydia, you can't just sit there and expect everything to fix itself!" Mason had snapped, pacing the room.

"I'm not!" I'd replied, my voice shaky but firm. "I'm working just as hard as you are!"

"Are you?" he shot back, glaring at me. "Because it doesn't feel like it. It feels like you're dragging your feet while I'm doing all the heavy lifting!"

"That's not fair," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Life isn't fair, Lydia. Get over it."

I'd swallowed my anger, looking down at my desk. "You're right," I muttered. "I'm sorry."

********

Now, as I sat in the same office, the same tension hanging over us, I felt like a rubber band stretched to its limit. One more snap, and I'd break.

"You're not going to say anything, are you?" Mason said, his voice pulling me back to the present.

I glanced at him, forcing myself to stay calm. "What do you want me to say, Mason?"

"I don't know," he said, throwing up his hands. "Something. Anything. I'm tired of this... whatever this is between us."

I frowned, my patience wearing thin. "You think I'm not tired, too? I'm exhausted, Mason. But I'm still here, trying to make this work."

"Trying?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, you're trying really hard, Lydia. Sitting there, silent, letting everything fall apart. Great job."

My temper flared, and before I could stop myself, I snapped back. "At least I'm not taking out my frustration on you every five seconds!"

He froze, his jaw tightening as his eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been treating me like crap, Mason," I said, standing up from my desk. "And I've been letting you because I know you're upset, but I can't take it anymore."

"Oh, so now this is my fault?" he said, his voice rising. "You're the one who shuts down every time things get hard! You don't talk to me, you don't let me in, and then you wonder why I get frustrated!"

"I don't let you in?" I repeated, my voice shaking. "I've been nothing but supportive of you, Mason! I've been here, listening to you, putting up with your moods, and for what? To get yelled at every day?"

"You're acting like I'm the bad guy here!" he shouted, his hands clenched into fists. "You think I don't notice how you've been pulling away? You're just as much to blame for this mess as I am!"

The words hit me like a slap, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

"I never said you were the bad guy," I said quietly, my voice breaking.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Lydia... I didn't mean that. I'm just-"

"Frustrated," I finished for him, my tone hollow. "I know."

We stood there in silence, the weight of our argument settling over us like a heavy fog.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep doing this," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mason looked at me, his expression softening for a moment before hardening again. "Neither do I."

And with that, we went back to our desks, the space between us feeling wider than ever.