“Honestly, sweetie, it doesn’t seem at all worth contemplating over. You have your answer.” She screwed her lips to the side, tilted her head, looking over at me. “You love Nick, and as amazing as he might be, he isn’t the answer either. He hurt you, he lied, and not about something small, it was a big lie.” She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers again. “I know that being loved is an amazing feeling, but I know that when that love isn’t returned, it puts a strain on both parties involved.” I knew she was right.
“I feel that strain, and I think that Mason is starting too as well,” I replied.
“I wouldn’t wait for two weeks to pass, I would tell him right away and not over the phone,” she suggested. “Go to him, break it to him gently, and see where it goes from there. Maybe space is all you need?”
“We barely see each other as it is. Space isn’t the problem,” I sighed.
“Maybe a vacation together?” she suggested.
“No.” I shook my head. “I have only been in love once . . . twice. I know that this isn’t it.” I wiped the tears from my face.
“Then you have your answer,” she urged. I nodded, holding up my head with the palm of my hand.
“Sorry to keep you so late,” I replied, and got up to hug her.
“Oh, don’t mention it. I never get the chance to do this. It feels good to give someone else advice.” She said with a chuckle. I gathered my things and made my way out. Mrs. Peterson hugged me and then watched me to my car before locking up.
I drove straight home and went to bed, leaving it for the morning. When I wake up, I’ll make my plans to head out to Washington, and see Mason. I think Mrs. Peterson was right, I can’t let this fester for two weeks. He deserved to know.
The next morning, I called Mason, but he never answered. My mother had already left for church and would probably meet Mrs. Foster for brunch. After the sixth try, I gave up and got ready. I sat on the front porch, staring at Nick’s number, debating on asking him if he had seen Mason. Then I sent Mason another text, telling him that I would be heading out to see him. It was angering me that he didn’t return my calls. I had been to his apartment three times before and he had programmed it in my GPS.
I called my mother. “Mom, I’m driving out to Washington. I should be back tomorrow,” leaving a message on her answering machine.
The drive would take me at least five hours making my arrival time approximately one in the afternoon. He should be awake by then, it was Sunday after all. This was not going to be an easy conversation and I had no idea how he would react to what I had to say. It was more than likely that I would be driving home afterwards, so I wanted to give myself ample time to get home safely. With the weather being so unpredictable lately, I wanted to be safe.
When I pulled up to the building in Washington, where Mason lived, I parked in the back since I didn’t have his card to get into the underground parking. I tried to call him again before entering the building but he still never answered. I was so furious with him now.
The doorman smiled as I entered.
“Evening, Miss Miller,” he said, holding the door for me. “Evening, Chester.” I smiled and walked towards the elevator.
He put his key in the elevator and selected Mason’s floor. The door to the elevator opened, and I got in. As I leaned back on the wall of the elevator, I reminisced about the time Nick and I spent at the hotel. I chuckled to myself, shaking it off. The door to the penthouse foyer opened. I walked in, calling out to Mason first. “Hello?” I called out more loudly. “Mason, are you home?” I
asked, walking down the hall to the living room. “Oh my god,” I gasped, looking around at the mess. The place was trashed. It looked as though someone had robbed the place. I grabbed my phone to call the police, while calling out to Mason again when I noticed something on the floor by the white leather couch. The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the ceramic tile. Mason had thrown one hell of a bash and that was why his place was trashed. Empty bottles of champagne were scatt
ered about, among several pieces of female clothing.
My heart began to pound hard.
“Mason!” I yelled. This had better be a misunderstanding. My cheeks flared red as I thought about all the guilt I was feeling lately, and all he was doing was sleeping around. “Mason!” I walked out of the living room and stormed down the hall to his bedroom. It was empty but it wasn’t tidy. Slowly I walked over to his bed, kicking the clothes strewn about the floor. Then I saw his phone. It was on the end table. “Shit.” I spun around and started walking back to the living room, when I ran into Nick.
“Lauren?” he gasped and stepped back, glancing around at the mess. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here? Cleaning up Mason’s mess?” I retorted.
“Mason didn’t come in to work today.” His jaw clenched.
“I see.” My head jerked slightly. Nick hadn’t quite noticed the red lace panties dangling from my hand until I raised my arm, and held up the red lacy panties by the waistband. “Maybe this is the reason why,” I said and let them fall to the ground with what little feelings I had left. Even though I couldn’t tell Mason that I loved him, I still cared about him a great deal and I was making an effort. This was the last thing I thought he would do to me after everything he promised.
Nick’s head tilted sympathetically, “Lauren—”
I interjected shaking my head, “No—don’t bother trying to defend him.” I walked away. “I should have known.” I shook my head, laughing in disbelief.
“Lauren.”
I interjected, “How long have you known?” I asked, spinning around to look at him.
“I—I didn’t,” he replied.