Chapter 8 The Age Gap
Distance
The conversation stayed with Liam for days.
Not just because it had lasted until after midnight.
Not just because he'd learned things about Mason that nobody else seemed to know.
Because it had felt important.
Real.
The kind of conversation people had when they genuinely wanted to understand each other.
For the first time since his breakup, Liam had gone to sleep smiling.
Which made what happened next even more confusing.
Thursday morning started normally.
Mason arrived at eight.
Coffee waited in the kitchen.
The repairs continued.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Except it wasn't.
Something had changed.
Liam noticed it within the first hour.
Mason was quieter.
Not unfriendly.
Not cold.
Just distant.
The difference was subtle enough that most people probably wouldn't have seen it.
Liam did.
Maybe because he'd spent weeks learning Mason's moods.
Maybe because he'd become far too invested.
Either way, he noticed.
The easy teasing that usually filled their mornings appeared less often.
Conversations ended sooner.
Long silences lingered where comfortable laughter normally lived.
By lunchtime, Liam found himself watching Mason more than his university assignments.
Trying to figure out what had happened.
Trying to determine whether he'd done something wrong.
The uncertainty sat heavily in his stomach.
At first he told himself he was imagining things.
People had bad days.
Everyone did.
Maybe Mason was tired.
Maybe work was stressful.
Maybe none of this had anything to do with him.
The explanation lasted until Friday.
Then Saturday.
Then Monday.
The pattern continued.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Enough to make Liam question everything.
Enough to make him feel increasingly foolish.
The worst part wasn't the distance itself.
It was the doubt.
Because every time Mason stepped back emotionally, Liam found himself wondering whether he'd imagined the connection entirely.
The late-night texts.
The lingering looks.
The hallway.
The hug.
The way Mason listened.
Had Liam misunderstood all of it?
The possibility made his chest ache.
Monday afternoon brought another clear day.
Sunlight streamed through newly repaired windows while Mason worked in the dining room.
The house looked almost complete now.
Most of the damage had disappeared.
Only a few projects remained.
That realization didn't help Liam's mood.
Soon the repairs would be finished.
Soon Mason wouldn't need to come every day.
And lately it felt as though he couldn't wait for that moment to arrive.
The thought hurt more than it should have.
"You're staring again."
Liam blinked.
Mason glanced up from a measuring tape.
"What?"
"You've been looking at me for five minutes."
Heat immediately touched Liam's face.
"I was thinking."
"That's becoming a habit."
The teasing sounded familiar.
Yet somehow different.
As though the words were automatic rather than natural.
Liam hated that he noticed.
The conversation ended there.
Another example.
Another unfinished moment.
The pattern repeated throughout the day.
Short exchanges.
Polite smiles.
Nothing more.
By evening, frustration had replaced confusion.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Disappointment.
Because Liam missed whatever they'd been becoming.
The realization terrified him.
He'd spent years rebuilding himself after his ex.
Promising he'd be careful.
Promising he wouldn't fall for someone unavailable again.
Yet somehow he'd walked directly into another complicated situation.
Brilliant.
Absolutely brilliant.
Tuesday wasn't any better.
If anything, it felt worse.
The repairs required both of them to work in close proximity for most of the morning.
Ordinarily Liam would've enjoyed that.
Now it only highlighted the distance.
Mason remained professional.
Helpful.
Patient.
Everything he'd always been.
Except for the part that mattered.
The warmth felt muted.
Guarded.
Like someone deliberately keeping a door closed.
By lunch, Liam could barely focus.
His notebook remained open in front of him.
The same paragraph sat unread.
Again.
Across the table, Mason reviewed repair estimates.
The older man looked exactly the same.
Broad shoulders.
Steady expression.
Calm confidence.
Nobody else would've noticed anything unusual.
Liam did.
Because he'd started paying attention weeks ago.
Because he cared.
Far more than he should.
The realization finally forced him to confront another truth.
This wasn't a crush anymore.
At least not a simple one.
The feelings had grown roots.
Deep ones.
And every bit of distance now felt personal.
Dangerous.
Painful.
The afternoon passed slowly.
Every hour seemed longer than the last.
Around three o'clock, Liam retreated upstairs under the excuse of schoolwork.
In reality, he needed space.
A chance to think.
A chance to breathe.
He sat on the edge of his bed staring at nothing.
The acceptance letter remained open on his laptop.
Washington.
Graduate school.
A future waiting somewhere else.
A week ago the decision felt difficult.
Now it felt impossible.
Because every scenario ended the same way.
Leaving Mason behind.
The realization lingered.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Emma.
Emma: How's the hot plumber?
Liam groaned immediately.
A second message arrived.
Emma: Still in denial?
He typed a reply.
Then deleted it.
Then typed another.
Eventually he sent the truth.
Liam: I think he's pulling away.
The response came almost instantly.
Emma: Did he say that?
Liam: No.
Emma: Then ask him.
Simple.
Direct.
Terrifying.
Liam stared at the screen.
Ask him.
As though that were easy.
As though confronting feelings he'd spent weeks avoiding wouldn't be one of the most uncomfortable conversations of his life.
Still...
The idea refused to disappear.
By the time he returned downstairs, the thought remained.
Following him.
Growing louder.
Mason stood near the front hallway organizing tools.
The workday was almost over.
Again.
Soon he'd leave.
Again.
And Liam would spend another evening wondering what had changed.
The realization finally exhausted him.
Enough.
No more guessing.
No more overthinking.
No more convincing himself everything was fine.
If something had changed, he deserved to know why.
Even if the answer hurt.
Especially if the answer hurt.
Mason looked up.
"Everything okay?"
The question sounded genuine.
Which somehow made things harder.
Liam swallowed.
His pulse quickened.
For a moment, courage almost failed him.
Then weeks of uncertainty pushed him forward.
"Can I ask you something?"
Mason frowned slightly.
"Sure."
The hallway suddenly felt very quiet.
Very small.
Liam took a breath.
Then another.
Finally, he forced the words out.
"Why are you pulling away from me?"
The question hung heavily between them.
Mason froze.
Completely.
For one suspended moment, neither moved.
Neither spoke.
The silence stretched.
And as Liam watched surprise flash across Mason's face, he realized two things at once.
First, he wasn't imagining the distance.
And second, whatever answer was coming next had the power to change everything.
Too Much History
For a moment, Mason couldn't speak.
The question hung between them, impossible to ignore.
Why are you pulling away from me?
He'd known this conversation was coming.
Maybe not today.
Maybe not in the middle of a hallway surrounded by repair equipment and freshly painted walls.
But eventually.
Liam was too observant not to notice.
Too honest to pretend everything was fine.
The problem was that Mason didn't have a simple answer.
Or rather, he had several answers.
None of them felt good enough.
The silence stretched.
Liam remained standing a few feet away.
Waiting.
Not angry.
Not accusing.
Just hurt.
The realization landed harder than Mason expected.
Because he'd caused that look.
Him.
Not an ex.
Not a professor.
Not one of Liam's parents halfway across the world.
Him.
Mason rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
A nervous habit he usually managed to hide.
Apparently not today.
"Liam..."
The younger man's expression tightened slightly.
That alone told Mason everything.
He'd been right.
Liam had noticed.
Every bit of it.
"There is something."
The statement wasn't a question.
Mason exhaled slowly.
"Yeah."
The admission felt unavoidable.
Relief flashed briefly across Liam's face.
Not because the answer was good.
Because uncertainty was worse.
At least now they were being honest.
Unfortunately, honesty wasn't going to make this easier.
Mason glanced toward the floor.
Then back at Liam.
The younger man looked nervous.
Hopeful.
Terrified.
Mason understood the feeling.
He felt it too.
"The problem isn't you."
The words arrived immediately.
Firmly.
Because that part was true.
Liam laughed softly.
Without humor.
"That's usually not a good sign."
Mason almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, he leaned against the wall.
Trying to figure out how to explain thoughts he'd spent days avoiding.
"You know how old I am."
Liam frowned.
"Thirty-four."
"Right."
A pause.
"You're twenty-one."
The younger man's expression didn't change.
Not much.
"What about it?"
The question sounded genuine.
Mason shook his head.
Of course it did.
Because Liam wasn't thirty-four.
He wasn't carrying the same baggage.
The same mistakes.
The same regrets.
"When I was twenty-one, I thought I knew everything."
A humorless laugh escaped him.
"I didn't know a damn thing."
Liam folded his arms.
"That's not exactly unique."
"No."
Mason looked away briefly.
"It isn't."
The conversation was already heading somewhere uncomfortable.
There was no point pretending otherwise.
"I've been married."
The words settled heavily between them.
"Divorced."
Liam nodded slowly.
"I know."
"Eight years."
Mason continued before he could lose momentum.
"Half my adult life."
The younger man remained silent.
Listening.
As always.