Chapter 8 #2
Last night. Kissing Beau in the middle of a crowded dance floor. Feeling his hands on my body. Hearing him say, come home with me, and wanting to say yes so badly I could taste it.
“I’m not sure,” I lied.
Caroline studied me for a moment, her expression softening. “Mason, can I tell you something? And I know we just met, so feel free to tell me to mind my own business.”
“Caroline—” my father started, but she waved him off.
“I spent twenty years married to a man I liked but didn’t love,” she said.
“Twenty years playing it safe, doing what I was supposed to do, making the smart choice. And you know what? I was miserable. Not obviously miserable—I had a delightful house, a good life on paper. But inside, I was dying a little every day.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“The best thing I ever did was admit that safe wasn’t the same as happy.
And when I met your father—this wonderful, terrifying man who made me feel things I’d forgotten I could feel—I decided I was done playing it safe.
” She glanced at my father, her smile tender.
“Sometimes the scariest choice is the right one.”
My father was looking at her like she’d hung the moon.
“Anyway.” Caroline released my hand and picked up her fork. “That’s my unsolicited life advice. Now eat your tiramisu before it gets soggy.”
I ate mechanically, barely tasting it, her words echoing in my head.
Sometimes the scariest choice is the right one.
* * *
I stayed longer than I’d planned, listening to Caroline’s stories, watching the way my father’s entire demeanor had transformed in her presence.
He laughed—really laughed, the kind that came from his chest. Dad touched her constantly, little gestures of affection that I’d never seen from him before.
Hand on her back, fingers brushing hers across the table, a kiss on her temple when she made a terrible pun.
This was what love looked like when you stopped being afraid of it.
By the time I left, it was nearly ten. Caroline hugged me at the door—a genuine hug, warm and tight—and made me promise to come back soon.
“And bring someone next time,” she said with a wink. “Your father tells me you’ve been single too long. That can’t be good for you.”
“Caroline,” my father said, exasperated, but he was smiling.
“What? I’m just saying, a handsome young lawyer like Mason? He should be beating them off with a stick.”
I managed a laugh and escaped to my car before she could press further.
The drive home should have been quick—Salisbury to my apartment in the Fan was maybe twenty minutes. But I took the long way, winding through quiet residential streets, not ready to go back to my empty apartment yet.
My father was getting married.
My careful, controlled father had met someone who made him laugh, who challenged him to take risks, who made him want to be less careful. And he was happy. Really, genuinely happy in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen before.
When’s the last time you did something that scared you?
I thought about Beau’s mouth on mine, his hands pulling me closer, the way he’d looked at me like I was the only person in the room. The way my body had come alive in his arms, like I’d been sleepwalking through my life and suddenly, finally woken up.
I thought about the way he’d said come home with me, and how badly I’d wanted to say yes.
Maybe Caroline was right. Maybe safe wasn’t the same as happy. Perhaps I’d spent so long controlling every aspect of my life that I’d forgotten what it felt like to just... feel.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled into a closed grocery store parking lot and grabbed my phone.
I opened my messages with Beau and started typing.
I’m sorry about last night. Running away was cowardly, and you deserved better than that.
I paused, my heart pounding. Then kept going.
Kissing you scared the hell out of me. Not because I didn’t want to—I did, more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. But because I don’t know how to do this.
My finger hovered over the send button.
But I can’t stop thinking about you. Can we talk?
I read it over three times, my chest tight, my hands shaking.
This was it. The moment. The scary choice that Caroline had talked about, the leap my father had taken when he’d met her.
I could see where this thing with Beau might go, consequences be damned. Or I could play it safe. I could delete this message, show up to work tomorrow and pretend last night never happened, focus on the case and my career and all the things I’d spent years building.
I thought about my father’s face when he looked at Caroline. The way he’d said she makes me want to be less careful, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I thought about Beau’s smile. The way kissing him had felt like coming home.
My thumb moved toward the send button.
And then I thought about the MediCorp case.
Carter and Patsy trusted us with their biggest merger.
I was on a partnership track. What would happen if this thing with Beau imploded—and it would, wouldn’t it?
We were too different, too combustible. It would be incredible for a while, and then it would burn out, and we’d still have to work together, still have to face each other across conference tables, still have to pretend we hadn’t destroyed something that mattered.
I deleted the message.