Chapter 10
A few days pass in a strange kind of quiet.
Not the peaceful kind.
Just... steadier.
Ava still wakes at night, but not as often as before. Not screaming for hours. More like little cries, she settles faster when I pick her up. Like she's starting to believe the world doesn't end every time she opens her eyes.
And Mason
Mason has been there more than he hasn't.
Not in a way that feels intrusive.
Just... consistent.
A knock at the door to check we're okay.
A bag of groceries was left outside when I opened it too late.
A quiet "you alright?" in the hallway, like it costs him nothing.
Which is the part that confuses me the most?
Because it does something to me.
Something I keep trying to ignore.
I'm standing at the kitchen counter now, pretending to focus on making toast I don't really want, when I realize-again-that I've been thinking about him for the last ten minutes without meaning to.
It's becoming a pattern.
Annoying.
Dangerous.
Mason Kane.
The name alone is enough to pull up images I shouldn't be entertaining while holding a butter knife.
The way he stood in my apartment that first night, like it was nothing to step into chaos and... fix it.
The way he talks to Ava like she matters. Like she's not just noise, an inconvenience, or something to endure.
The way he looks at me sometimes
Careful.
Like I might break.
Like I already have, and he's just working around the cracks.
I press my thumb into the edge of the counter, trying to ground myself.
This is stupid.
He's just being kind.
He's just a good person.
That's all.
But my brain doesn't really care what I tell it.
Because kindness shouldn't feel like this.
Safe shouldn't feel like this.
My phone buzzes on the counter, and I glance at it too quickly, like I already know.
It's him.
You both alright? - M.
Of course it is.
I stare at the message longer than I should.
My chest tightens slightly, stupidly.
Because it shouldn't matter this much that he checks in.
It shouldn't make my stomach do that small, annoying flip every time I see his name.
I type back.
Yeah, all good. Ava is finally napping.
Then I stop.
Delete it.
Type again.
We're good. Thanks again for yesterday.
Pause.
That feels too formal.
Too distant.
Too safe.
I stare at it for another second before hitting send anyway, like I don't trust myself to say anything else.
The reply comes almost instantly.
Anytime.
Just one word.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing unnecessary.
And somehow that makes it worse.
Because my mind fills in everything he didn't say.
I put the phone down quickly as it might burn me.
"Get it together," I mutter to myself.
From the lounge, Ava lets out a soft little sound in her sleep.
I exhale, forcing myself back into the present.
Laundry. Dishes. Normal things. Real things.
Not him.
But it doesn't work.
Because every quiet moment seems to drift back to Mason anyway.
The way he held Ava against his chest was like she weighed nothing.
The way his voice drops when he's talking to her, softer than I thought a man like him could sound.
The way he stands in my doorway sometimes, like he's deciding whether I need help before I even ask.
And the worst part
The part I keep pushing away
It's how I feel around him.
Not exposed.
Not judged.
Just... noticed.
It's unfamiliar enough that it makes my stomach twist.
I lean against the counter, staring at nothing.
There's a very stupid thought that keeps trying to form.
One I don't let finish.
Because it starts with his name.
And it ends with something I absolutely shouldn't be thinking about.
Kissing him.
My face heats instantly, a sharp, humiliating heat.
"Oh my God," I whisper to myself.
This is ridiculous.
He hasn't done anything. Not really. Not like that.
He's just been... there.
Reliable.
Calm.
Strong in a way that doesn't demand attention but somehow takes it anyway.
And now my brain is doing this.
I press my palms to my face for a second.
It would be a very bad idea.
A catastrophic idea.
Because men like Mason don't just appear in your life without consequence.
Men like him don't belong in the messy, half-broken space I'm still trying to rebuild.
And I am absolutely not in a place where I can afford to want anything I can't keep safe.
A knock sounds at the door.
My whole body reacts before my brain does.
Of course it's him.
I hesitate for half a second too long before opening it.
Mason stands there like always-casual, grey hoodie, hands in his pockets-but there's something softer in his expression when he sees me.
Like he already knows I'm tired without needing proof.
"You look like you haven't slept," he says.
I let out a quiet breath that almost sounds like a laugh.
"Is that your greeting now?"
"Observations first," he replies. "Then greetings."
I should move aside.
Let him in.
That's the routine now.
But I pause anyway, just for a second too long, because my brain is still stuck on earlier.
On the thought I absolutely should not be having while he's standing right in front of me.
His eyes flicker slightly.
"Everything okay?" he asks.
And that's the thing.
He says it like he actually wants the answer.
Not like it's polite.
Not like it's optional.
My throat tightens.
"Yeah," I manage. "Just... tired."
A beat.
He nods once like that's enough information to work with.
Then, softer:
"You want a break? I can take Ava for a walk if she's up."
My chest does that annoying thing again.
That small, traitorous warmth.
I shake my head quickly.
"She's asleep."
"Good," he says. "You should be too."
I let out a breath, forcing a small smile.
"I'll consider it."
He studies me for a second longer than necessary.
Not intense.
Just... aware.
Then he gives a slight nod, like he's choosing not to push.
He's about to leave.
I can tell by the way his weight shifts back slightly, like he's already stepped out mentally. Like this is just another check-in, another quiet pass through our day before he goes back to whatever structure his life runs on.
"Alright," he says again, softer this time. "I'll be around if you need anything."
That should be the end of it.
Normal.
Safe.
But something in me doesn't let it end there.
The silence stretches for half a second too long after he turns slightly toward the hallway.
And the words come out before I can talk myself out of them.
"Can you stay?"
It's quiet.
Smaller than I meant it to be.
Mason stops immediately.
Doesn't pretend he didn't hear.
Don't rush to answer either.
He turns back fully, eyes settling on me with that steady focus that always makes me feel like I can't hide anything, even when I want to.
"Stay?" he repeats carefully.
My stomach tightens.
I hate how vulnerable it sounds now that it's out in the open.
I clear my throat quickly, already trying to fix it.
"I just mean- for a bit," I say. "Ava's asleep and I- I don't know. I just... don't really want to be alone right now."
Honesty hangs in the air between us.
Uncomfortable.
Real.
I look down at the floor because I can't quite hold his gaze anymore.
This is a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
Because asking a man like Mason to stay doesn't feel like asking for help.
It feels like opening a door I don't fully understand.
He doesn't move for a moment.
Then I hear him exhale softly.
Not frustration.
Not annoyance.
Just... consideration.
"Yeah," he says finally.
One word.
Simple.
But it lands heavier than anything else he's said.
I look up quickly.
He's still standing there.
Not leaving.
"Yeah?" I repeat, like I didn't hear him properly.
A faint flicker crosses his expression, something almost like understanding.
"Yeah," he says again, a little firmer. "I'll stay."
My chest tightens unexpectedly.
I nod once, too quickly.
"Okay."
He steps inside without another word, closing the door gently behind him as he belongs here more than I do right now.
The apartment feels different again.
Not quite in the same way it was before.
Not empty.
Just... shared.
Mason doesn't push further. Doesn't ask why. Doesn't turn it into something bigger than it is.
He leans back against the counter casually, arms crossed, eyes briefly scanning the space like he's checking for anything wrong out of habit.
And me
I stand there, suddenly aware of everything.
He's in my kitchen again.
Ava is asleep in the next room.
And the fact that I just asked him to stay because I couldn't stand the silence.
My thoughts drift straight back to what I was trying so hard not to think about earlier.
Him.
Still here.
Closer now.
And it makes it worse.
Because now I know what it feels like when he doesn't leave.