30. Kamryn
Can I sleep standing up? It’s the thought that runs through my mind after every Fashion Week. I’ve just completed another round at Paris Fashion Week and I’m beyond ready to sleep for the rest of the week. The months leading up to the show are non-stop around the office. We eat, sleep, and breathe all things Paris before we’re off to the show. While I still have some people in the office working on the Kamryn side of my company, I always give those of us that come back from Paris the rest of the week off.
I’m waiting at the baggage claim when my phone dings with a text.
Mason: Hey, baby. I have a car waiting for you so cancel the Uber I know you already ordered. Jax has Lucy and Poppy with her at her loft. The girls and I helped set up your staycation so all you have to do is start your bath when you get to your house. Let me know if you need anything else.
I could cry. At the airport baggage claim. I could actually cry. Would I come off as crazy if I just bursted into tears? The flight was long and I could barely relax my body enough to get some sleep. I kept running through the show wondering if I could have done something different. If I could have added more pieces to my line or if I should have taken out certain pieces.
Me: You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you. I do need one more thing.
Mason: Anything, sweetheart.
Me: You. At my house.
Mason: I’ll be there soon.
I smile down at my phone until I hear the sound of the luggage being dropped to the baggage claim. Moving towards an area that’s less crowded, I patiently wait for my bags to make their way to me.
It takes about ten minutes. But once I have my suitcases, I make my way to the waiting cars and see a driver holding up a sign with my name.
“Hi, I’m Kamryn.”
My driver is a middle-aged Black man sporting a goatee. He’s wearing the standard driver outfit: black suit with a black tie and white button down shirt. He acknowledges me with a smile and tells me his name is Aaron. Grabbing the handle of the backdoor, he ushers me in before tending to my suitcases and putting those in the trunk.
Me: I didn’t need a car to take me home.
Mason: Let me spoil you, please?
Me: I guess I have no reason to object?
Mason: None. I’ll see you soon.
The ride from the airport is quiet, which I’m grateful for. I’m thankful that Aaron doesn’t attempt to make idle chitchat. Once we hit the highway back to my house does my body relax and my eyes start to droop.
I must’ve drifted off as I jolt forward when the car finally stopped. Looking around I see my house to the right of me and I give Aaron a sheepish look.
“Sorry,” I say with a grimace.
“No worries Ms. Rawlins,” Aaron volleys back before he’s out of the car and hefting my suitcases out of the trunk. My suitcases are set on the ground before I realize that he said more than two words to me.
Gathering my bag and phone I amble out of the car. Giving Aaron a ‘thank you’, I lift the handles of my suitcases and head up my front sidewalk. I’m almost to the door when the sound of another car pulls into my driveway. Hesitantly turning, I see Mason clamber out of the driver seat.
“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” I yell bursting at the seams as Mason does a little jog to where I’m standing.
He picks me up by the back of my thighs. His arms wrap around my body leaving no space between us. “Not a chance, baby.”
We stay like this. Wrapped around each other in full view of my neighbors that prefer to sit out front of their houses. The calm I felt that existed before, makes itself known to me now.
“I missed you,” I mumble into Mason’s neck.
“I missed you too, baby.”
I do my best not to compare our relationship from before to what we’re building it to be now. But already, the missing him that I felt is greater than what it was back then. Mason loosens his hold on me and sets me down on solid ground.
“I’ll get your bags,” Mason turns me around and lightly pushes me to my front door.
Taking that as my cue, I pull my house key out of the side pocket of my bag and unlock and open my front door. Holding the door open for Mason, I breathe out a sigh of relief that my reset period starts now.
Before I can take a step towards my kitchen to sort out any mail that was brought in, Mason redirects me to the stairs. “Go light your candles and start your bath. I’ll be up there in a minute.”
I’ve never had anyone here for me when I get home from a show. Stopping, I turn to face him and kiss him. In the privacy of my home and not on the front steps of my house for anyone to see. The care in which he’s making sure I’m okay and cared for threatens to burst me apart. “Thank you.” Three other words are begging to be freed from my lips. But it’s too soon. We’ve barely had more than a week of uninterrupted time. I know it’s quality over quantity, yet it makes it hard to wonder if I’m falling for the man I’ve built up in my mind or past Mason.
“You’re welcome, baby. Now go upstairs.” With a kiss to the tip of my nose, Mason turns and walks down the hallway to my kitchen.
Dragging my weary body up the stairs, I hop on one foot to get my shoe off and drop it with a clunk in my bedroom, followed by the other shoe. My socks soon follow along with my hoodie that kept me cozy the entire flight. Walking into my bathroom I head for the vanity and look for the essential oils, bath salts, and Dr. Teal’s of choice for my bubbles.
Walking over to the bath, I turn the water on high and pull the stopper. Getting the lighter from my bedroom, I walk back in and light the plethora of candles I have in my bathroom. When the water is about halfway I fill the tub with my bath essentials then strip off the rest of my clothes and get in the tub. Instantly my body relaxes as the heat from the water and the scent of my bath concoction overtakes my senses.
Sleep is close to overtaking until Mason walks into the bathroom. “Here’s your wine, baby.”
Peeling my eyes open, I sit up and take a healthy gulp. “Thank you. You wanna join me?”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Scooting forward so he has room.
I watch with rapt attention as he peels his clothes off. The ripple of his abs and the flex of his forearms. He really has gotten more handsome with age. My mouth goes dry when his pants hit the floor. Trailing my eyes up his toned body I meet his smirk as he walks over to the bath.
The water rises as he settles in behind me and pulls me into him. Now my body fully relaxes.
“Did I tell you I missed you?”
His hands knead into the knots in my shoulders. “You did. I missed you too. But I spent seven years missing you.” Mason’s hands drift down my back to wrap around my stomach as my head falls back to his shoulder. “Us being apart from each other was hard. I don’t think we’ll ever be done talking about the past. All of the what could’ve been and what should’ve been. But I’m hoping with more time we can talk a little more about our pasts.”
“You really want to do that?” When we met again all those months ago, I knew I’d have to tell him more about how me and Liam came to be.
“I do. There’s so much about your life that I know nothing about.”
“Baby, that part of my life is so hard.” Confessing that life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows is hard to admit. “Do we have to talk about it now?”
Mason places a kiss to the side of my head. “No. Not now. Why don’t you tell me about the show?”
“It was incredible. Paris had rare warm weather so having the show outside was bearable.”
“And what collection was this for?” Our fingers twist and twine together and I watch with a giddiness that can barely be contained.
“This was for Spring. It still drives me wild that pieces for new seasons are shown way in advance. But I love seeing what other designers come up with. The buzz from consumers is what makes designing clothes exciting.”
“I’m so proud of you. I know I’m coming in in the middle of your success, but it means the world to see you succeed.”
My throat feels tight with the sudden urge to cry. I didn’t have this type of support with Liam and here Mason is giving it freely. Turning to face him I search his face and look into the eyes that captured my heart when I was eighteen years old. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”
Leaning up to touch my lips to his, I only intend for it to be a quick kiss. But Mason’s hand wraps around the back of my neck. His thumb softly rubbing along my jawline as he deepens the kiss. Our tongues tangle and dance. Reacquainting ourselves after our time apart. The water feels hotter. Or that could just be my body temperature rising.
As much as I told myself I would make Mason work to get back in my life, I didn’t make him work too hard. In my heart I knew that I couldn’t. We’ve both succeeded in our careers, we’re living where we dreamed about, and we’re with each other for the long haul.
Taking control of the kiss, Mason slows it down. Peppering my lips and cheek with kisses then nuzzling in my neck, he lets out a contented sigh. “I know our talk is coming. But I’m just glad we’re moving forward. You’re what I’ve wanted since I was twenty years old.”
If you’d have asked me if Mason and I would have found each other when I was twenty, I would have said no. I was so angry at him. Angry that he could just walk away from what we had. Angry that he made no attempt to reach out to me. I was angry that he made me feel unloveable.
“Is it okay if we just move forward day by day? I’m not knocking your wanting us to talk, but emotionally I can only handle so much.” Therapy has taught me to accept what I can handle and how much I can handle. That in order for any of my relationships, friendship or romantic, to succeed, the boundaries that I set in place are keys for them succeeding.
His kiss to the side of my head is acknowledgement enough. “Of course, baby. I don’t want to rush you.”
“Thank you.” Leaning back into his body, I let my body relax. And when the water gets cold we take turns rinsing off in the shower before Mason orders me to lay in bed as he makes us dinner.
Thirty minutes later, Mason has brought up a big bowl of carbonara, along with the rest of the wine. I heard him whipping it up in my kitchen and I about exploded.
Pressing play on my rewatch of The Vampire Diaries, we settle into our meal. We eat until the bowl is empty and my thoughts are all over the place. I’m barely paying attention as I think about our bath conversation. Do I want to burst this happy bubble we’re living in by dredging up the past? No. But I need to do it in order for us to find our happy ground.
I place my glass of wine on the nightstand beside me and turn down the volume on the TV.
“What’s up?” Mason asks me now, giving me his full attention.
“I want to tell you about Liam. If I wait for when I’ll be ready to do so, I’ll never tell you.” I turn and face Mason and pull a throw pillow into my lap. Taking a deep breath, “I slept with Liam a few months after we broke up.”
“Huh?”
“Technically it was that summer. I used him. And for some reason it didn’t click that he felt more than ‘just friends’ for me. I avoided him and he called me out on it. Our friendship took a hit my junior year. On top of everything, you leaving and him pausing our friendship, I was broken.”
Mason takes my hand in his. Rubbing comforting circles in a reassuring gesture.
“Things took a turn my final year of school. I apologized for using him and not seeing the depth of his feelings for me.”
His eyebrows raise at that.
“What?”
“Liam cornered me a few weeks after we started dating. He was a bit too possessive over you. It didn’t take too long to figure out he’s who you were sleeping with before you met me. It also didn’t take too long for me to piece together that he had more than friendship feelings for you.”
I do my best to mentally rewind back to that time. It’s hazy but I still don’t see it. “How did I miss that?”
“He was your best friend Kam. Did you ever have feelings for him before we first dated?”
The look on my face has Mason nodding his head. “But I never thought he would feel the same for me. So that’s when I proposed to the whole friends with benefits arrangement with him.”
“Liam should have spoken up. But continue. What happened after you graduated college?”
Looking up to the ceiling in an effort to get my thoughts in order and my words straight. “When he and I got together senior year, he made a promise that if neither of our dreams came true we wouldn’t shut the other out. We wouldn’t break the promise of supporting each other no matter what.” The memory of betrayal washes over me. “When he wasn’t getting the call for baseball that he wanted, he shut me out. He told me promises were meant to be broken. It wasn’t long after that I moved out. But he still never got the call that he wanted. I pleaded with him, along with Sarah, to take whatever deal comes to him. He never did.”
The look of pity on Masons face for Liam to never get his dream of playing professionally…if Liam could see it he would probably smack it off his face.
“We bounced back for a little bit. We’d been dating for about four years at this point. I asked Liam if I was just wasting my time with him. If he was ever going to take the next step with us. He said no.”
I’ve spent so many nights lying awake wondering if I could have said something differently. Would he still be alive?
“What happened next…I blame myself for what happened. No matter how many therapy sessions I went to or how many people told me his death wasn’t my fault. It can’t take the guilt away. I have to live with the sound of his truck being crushed into the back of an eighteen wheeler.” Talking about this again sends me back to that day.
Mason throws the pillow to the side and pulls me to him. Wrapping me in his arms. Tears silently pour down my face.
“It was a few weeks after the funeral when his parents came to my house. They did everything to assure me that his death was not my fault. But again, guilt is a bitch. They brought over a box of Liam’s things that they thought I’d like to have.”
Mason continues to rub circles along my back.
“I was broken. Or I thought I was broken. Opening the box of Liam’s things made me unfixable.”
“What was in the box, baby?”
“I thought Liam didn’t want a forever. But that damn box had a ring in it.”
I can’t get any more words out. I don’t need to.
Mason lays us down on the bed. He comforts me.
Part of growing up is realizing that words don’t need to be said in a grand way. It’s the actions that are meant to do more than the words can say. Mason comforting me in his quiet way says way more than his words ever could.