Chapter 13
Janey
The guest room feels too big and empty. I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, watching the shadows from the ceiling fan slowly rotate above me.
The bed is comfortable, the sheets smell like lavender detergent, but no matter how many times I fluff the pillow or adjust the comforter, sleep refuses to come.
There’s an ache in my chest that I can’t wish away. It’s a hollow feeling that’s risen up slowly from the place I packed it after Joelle and Caleb moved out.
I’m lonely.
After weeks of insisting I needed space, of telling myself I’m better on my own, tonight the emptiness feels unbearable.
After one night sleeping in the same bed as Mason and Brookes, surrounded by their warm, strong bodies, I’m lost without them.
I miss the solid weight of them beside me and the regular rhythm of their breathing as they sleep.
I miss the way their bodies seem to naturally bracket mine, like my place between them is instinctive and natural.
I understand why they’ve given me this room to sleep in. They want me to have the space I need to think. They don’t want to smother me with their enthusiasm or intentions so that I lose connection with what I feel.
It’s the most honorable and considerate thing anyone has ever done for me.
I glance at the nightstand and the thermos of ginger tea they’ve prepared for me. Beside it is a box of crackers, a glass of water, a box of tissues, and next to the bed is an old bucket. They really did think of everything.
Running my hand over my face, I blow out a long, frustrated breath. It isn’t fair for me to be needy. I shouldn’t use them to fill the hole inside me if I’m planning to leave. Hurting them isn’t my intention.
But they’d want to give you what you need, my internal voice whispers. Look at what they’ve done to make sure you’re comfortable. If they knew your heart was hurting, they’d want to heal it.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I push the covers back and slip out of bed.
My bare feet are quiet on the hardwood as I pad down the hallway. Mason’s door is the first and is slightly ajar. I hesitate for only a second before gently pushing it open and stepping inside.
Mason is stretched out on his side in the center of the bed, one arm thrown above his head, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. He looks powerful even in sleep; all hard muscles, bunched even in rest.
The curtains are open, and the half-moon casts enough light for me to move without tripping.
My heart beats faster as I walk around the bed and carefully climb in behind him.
The mattress dips under my weight, and I slide closer until my front presses against his back.
When I wrap my arm around his waist, resting my cheek between his shoulder blades, he stirs almost immediately.
A low, sleepy rumble vibrates through his chest. “Janey?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, suddenly feeling shy. “Is this okay? I couldn’t sleep alone.”
Instead of answering with words, Mason turns over and pulls me into him, tucking me securely against his chest. He becomes the big spoon, curling his much larger body around mine.
One heavy arm drapes over my waist, his big hand splaying possessively across my belly, right where the baby is growing. His warmth instantly seeps into me.
“More than okay,” he murmurs into my hair, his lips brushing my temple. “Been lying here hoping you’d come find me.”
“You were sleeping like a baby,” I dispute.
“I was dreaming you’d find me.”
The relief that floods through me is so strong it almost brings tears to my eyes. I melt into him, letting his body anchor me. For a long while, we breathe together in the darkness. The house is quiet except for the distant sound of crickets and the occasional low call of cattle out in the pasture.
In the darkness, Mason kisses the top of my head. “You wanna sleep, or talk?”
Sleep still feels like an impossible task. “Talk. For a little while.”
“Okay. Why don’t you tell me about your family?”
I swallow hard. The question feels intimate, but safe here in his arms.
“I love them,” I begin quietly. “Especially my dad. He’s always been the calm one.
But my mom…” I pause, searching for the right words.
“She’s never been cruel. She’s always looked after me with a lot of care, making sure I have everything I need, but nothing I do ever feels like enough.
Straight A’s in school? She’d say I could’ve taken harder classes.
Getting accepted into vet school? She reminded me that her friend’s daughter got into an even better program.
Even when I landed the job at the clinic, she told me I should’ve negotiated for more money or better hours. ”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’ve spent my whole life chasing this impossible standard she keeps raising. No matter how hard I try, there’s always another level. Another way I could be better, smarter, and more successful. I’m so tired of never feeling good enough.”
Mason’s thumb strokes slowly, soothing circles over my stomach. His voice is deep and level when he replies.
“Sounds like you’ve been carrying a heavy load for a long time.”
“I have. And now… with the baby… I know she’s going to be so disappointed.
The way it happened, the fact that there are two of you.
She won’t understand. She’ll see it as the biggest disappointment.
She’ll tell me I’m throwing my life away.
That I’m making the biggest mistake. That I’m a selfish girl who doesn’t think about anyone else. ”
Mason is quiet for a moment, then presses a kiss to the back of my neck.
“My dad was cut from the same cloth,” he says. “Hard man. Believed the only way to raise strong sons was to break them first. If we showed weakness, if we cried, if we failed, we heard about it for weeks. Sometimes longer.”
He lets out a slow breath. “Brookes and I got real good at taking care of each other. After Dad finished with us, we’d sneak into each other’s rooms at night. Climb into the same bed and tell stupid stories until we fell asleep. Made the bruises hurt a little less.”
My heart aches for the little boys they once were and the sister I never had but would have loved.
“What about your mom?” I ask softly.
“She was gentler,” he says. “But she never stood up to him. Now he’s passed, and she’s in a care home with dementia. We visit when we can, but the ranch doesn’t stop demanding our time. Some days I feel like shit about it. Like, I’m not a good enough son.”
The guilt in his voice is so familiar it makes my throat tight.
“I know that feeling,” I whisper. “I’m terrified I’m going to disappoint my mom so badly she’ll never forgive me.
That this baby will create a fracture in my family that can’t be fixed.
I’m her only daughter. All her hopes are pinned on me.
I struggle with knowing that she’s the main reason I am where I am.
I’ve strived so hard to meet her demands, and I’ve built a good life for myself. I should be more grateful”
Mason tightens his arm around me, pulling me even closer.
“You can’t build your life around her disappointment, Janey,” he says firmly, but gently. “You’ll never be free if you do. You have to make the choice that’s going to make you happy. Forget your mom and society. Just focus on you.”
I wish it were that easy, rather than heavy and terrifying. I wish I could shrug off the yoke and live my life the way I want to. But what would that even involve? I’ve spent so long shaping myself to meet her design that I’ve forgotten who I am along the way.
We lay together in thoughtful silence for a while, his hand still resting protectively over my belly.
Eventually, I sigh. “I should go back to my own bed. I don’t want Brookes to feel left out.”
Mason presses another slow kiss behind my ear. “He won’t mind. But I get it.” His voice drops, warm and sleepy. “This door is always open, sweetheart. Any night you need us, you come find us. No hesitation.”
I reluctantly slip out of his bed, already missing his heat and reassurance. In Mason’s arms, the world doesn’t feel as complicated. Before I leave, I lean down and kiss his cheek softly.
“Thank you, Mason,” I whisper.
“Anytime, darlin’,” he murmurs, already drifting back toward sleep.
I tiptoe back down the hallway, the wooden floor creaking beneath my weight, and quietly slip into my own room once again.
The big guest bed still feels too wide and too empty. But after talking to Mason, my heart is less lonely.