Chapter 22
twenty-two
. . .
Violet
present day
The pros of staying in an apartment with Mason are that it’s significantly nicer and also significantly warmer than my place. The con is being alone with the man who broke my heart. I’m currently failing not to stare at him as he strips off his winter coat and red flannel, to reveal a t-shirt that did very little to hide the tattoo which now covers the entirety of his left arm.
Mason decided to get his first tattoo to celebrate moving to New York and playing his first game with the Rangers. He was adamant he didn’t want something super recognizable, like a city skyline. He opted for an outline of the Catskills mountains in upstate New York, in shades of black and gray that cover his shoulder. The mountain ranges on his bicep have been extended, leading into a series of forest trails and pine trees that cover his entire forearm. The artwork is absolutely stunning.
“The bottom piece is inspired by our trip to Mount Greylock, do you remember it?” Damn, he caught me staring.
“Do you mean the trip where you and your dad convinced the moms, me, and Monroe that the top of the mountain was only a two-mile walk when it was actually five ? In the dead of winter, no less.” Monroe and I had clawed our way to the top. The only thing motivating us forward was plotting how we would shove Mason off the mountain as soon as we caught up to him.
“It was 2.5 miles.”
“Yeah one way.”
“Alright fine, we may have overexaggerated how quick of a hike it would be. But it was worth it in the end.”
My final hundred steps to the top were fueled by nothing but rage and spite, but as soon as I stepped onto the peak of the mountain, I felt time stop. From the top, we could see miles and miles of valleys covered in the most beautiful sheet of white snow. The pine trees surrounding us looked straight out of a movie, and it had been one of the most magical things I had ever seen. I was so enamored by the view I couldn’t bring myself to leave, even after the parents and Monroe headed back down to our cabin. I just sat there looking at the horizon. Mason had stayed with me. By the time we headed back down, my anger was forgotten and we filled the hike with our normal banter and jokes. Everything was so much easier back then.
“I got the forearm tattoo a few months after I was forced to retire.” His voice is so raw and vulnerable I can’t help but lock eyes with him. “It was hard for me to really remember a lot of happy memories at the time. Especially since so many of my happy memories were tied to hockey and well…” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Our time sitting on top of that mountain was one happy moment I kept thinking of. So, I decided to get it tattooed as a reminder of better days. ”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I also could use a reminder of better days, but I couldn’t say that out loud without unraveling in front of him.
“What is it Vi?” He walks over to where I’m sitting in the living room and leans against the loveseat across from me.
I’m picturing a tattoo of my own, scrawled across the sleeve of my arm so I never would forget it — You are good enough, Violet. You are.
“Nothing.”
“Vi, I know that look. You’re holding something in.” He sits in the chair across from me and leans in, now at eye level with me. He didn’t say it, but the expression on his face was clear. No more avoiding this.
“I don’t know if I can talk about this Mason. I only managed to keep myself together after spending all last year building myself back up — piece by piece. I don’t have it in me to do that again.” I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them as if to stop my heart from being ripped out.
A pained look covers his face. “Violet, I never meant to hurt you this badly. I thought I was doing the right thing. The guys were teasing me all weekend about how I wasn’t a relationship guy, and it’s not like I could deny it. Right before Monroe left, she warned me not to hurt you. Warned me to protect your heart with everything because that’s what you deserved. And that’s what I thought I was doing. I was in my head and scared that I wouldn’t be what you deserved. Scared that I would hurt the most important person in my life. When you came into the room, tears in your eyes, thinking I had lied to you, I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle knowing I had caused those tears. So I decided to end things before they ever really started. I thought I was protecting you.”
“And I wasn’t adult enough to take that risk myself? You just decided it was best to walk away rather than letting me choose to trust you?”
“I can’t say with certainty that it was the right thing, but it felt like it at the time. And even now, I think I still feel that way. I have always cared about you. I have always loved you; there will never be a moment where I don’t. But I hurt a lot of people that I loved while I was injured, and a part of me is glad you weren’t a casualty in that disaster.“ He takes a breath, and it looks like the first real breath he’s taken since we ran into each other.
“Violet, I feel like an entire piece of my heart has been ripped out these last three years. Being shut out killed me. I never thought that it would come so easy for you.”
“You think it was easy for me?”
“Wasn’t it?” His eyes lock with mine, glassy as if holding back tears.
“Letting you go was one of the hardest things I’d ever done,” I confess.
“Then why did you do it?”
I suck in a deep breath. If he was able to bare himself to me like this, despite how much it was hurting him, couldn’t I do the same? “I was in a rough headspace when I came to Chicago. I had just seen my dad, and he said some awful things. How he never wanted me, how I ruined his life, how no one would ever love me. As much as I wanted to shrug off his words…they kept playing in my head. Especially the ones about how no one would ever love me.”
Mason surges forward a bit and then sits back down like he was about to walk out the door and annihilate the man and then thought better of it.
“We had that amazing night together, and I thought, ‘ This is it. I’ve finally found someone who wants me’ . But then you pushed me away and I, well, I meant it when I said I would come back. Please know that I did. I was healing and focusing on myself, and then suddenly, a week of not talking to you went by, then a month. And it hurt like hell to ignore you, more than I can put into words. But I thought I was protecting myself. So, I shut you out, and eventually, getting out of bed wasn’t so painful. You thought losing me would hurt too much, so you didn’t even try. I thought being your friend while mourning what we could have been would end me, so I just didn’t.”
“I really thought I was doing the right thing Violet. I’m so sorry.”
I move my head up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry too. For cutting you out of my life. You didn’t deserve that.”
He hesitates for a moment. “So uhm— how are you? How is school?” Mason laughs at his own attempt to lighten the mood. His attempt to bring us back to normalcy is sweet, though heavier than he could have known.
“I’m…still healing. I had a particularly rough first year. I almost dropped out actually.” I’ve never said those words out loud to anyone. Not even my mom or Monroe knew the full extent of how bad things had been. How close I had come to giving up on my dreams.
Concern covers Mason’s face. “Are you serious? What happened?”
I rehash the entire tragedy that was my first year of grad school. I’ve only scratched the surface when I see the anger start to build in Mason’s eyes. When I tell him about the time my old mentor essentially alluded I was a diversity hire, rage fills his eyes and I watch his hands open and close into fists.
When I finish recounting how she took credit for my whole project and published it without me, Mason just stares at me in disbelief. “Jesus Violet. I can’t believe all the shit you had to go through.”
“As the saying goes ‘Don’t meet your heroes.’” I roll my eyes.
“You’re not still working with her, are you?”
“No. No. After I found out about her publishing my work, I finally snapped. I set up a meeting with the chair of our department and disclosed all the events that went down. The good news was I had already shared multiple drafts of that same paper with other professors for their feedback, so they were able to vouch for me. The department asked her to reach out to the journal and have me added to the article as an author, which she did. Reluctantly. I joined Bethany’s lab after that. And things started to finally turn around for me.”
Mason rubs his thumb in soothing circles on the back of my hand. “I wish I could’ve been there for you.”
“It wasn’t just you I shut out that year. My mom, Monroe. I couldn’t face anyone. I just felt like I was being so…ungrateful. Like so many people would give anything at a chance to chase their dreams and here I was, living mine and miserable about it. I spent my whole first year being ripped apart day by day and not even realizing it until I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. It took me a whole year to regroup and feel grateful again. That was the only thing I could focus on. And if I’m being honest there are still some days where I find myself unable to let go of all the hurt.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
I shrug, ready to take my heart off my sleeve and put it back in my chest. I gesture to him, hoping to redirect the conversation. “I’m not the only one with shit worth moping over. I was so sorry to see that you had to medically retire.”
“Yeah, thanks. I went through a similar thing, deep down wanting to reach out to people but not being able to bring myself to do it. At the time it felt easier to shut them out than to have to deal with their pity.”
We sit in silence for a while, just holding hands and reflecting. I had always defaulted to putting up walls when I got hurt, but I never considered that my own defense mechanism could also hurt me. In an effort to protect ourselves from pain, here sat two very damaged, lonely, people.
I break the silence ready to bury the hatchet and bury myself in a Mason-hug. “Do you think you can forgive me? For putting up a wall between us. For letting my insecurities get the best of me, and for not being there for you when you needed me?” The thoughtful look on Mason’s face is replaced with a smile. “Yes. If you can forgive me for doing the same. ”
“Done.” I stick my hand out to shake on it.
Mason grabs my hand and gives it one firm shake.
I was thinking about where to take our conversation next, when I let out a huge yawn.
“You can take the guest room.” Mason points to the door to the right of the kitchen.
“Are you sure? You’re already doing me a favor by letting me stay here, and I don’t want to impose.”
“I’m sure. I already set your bags in there earlier.”
“Oh, great thanks for doing that…um I guess I’ll go get ready for bed then.” I head toward the door and enter the room, calling out, “Goodnight.” Shutting the door behind me I try my best not to think about the fact that Mason is only two hundred feet away, and even that feels like too much distance.