Hard To Love

by Ross, Sabrina

  “I promise, Lauren. It is fine.” He smiled. He moved in to hug me. But it wasn’t his usual squeeze, like he-never-wanted-to-let-go sort of hug. It was aloof and cold. “I’m happy for you.” He forced another smile, and then backed away.

  “Where’s Stacey?” I asked, looking back through the glass patio door.

  “We—uh, broke up,” he said, scratching the side of his head.

  “What?” I gasped. “When?”

  “About a month ago,” he replied, shrugging.

  “Why?” I touched his arm affectionately.

  He looked down at my hand on his arm. “I told her about you and that my feelings hadn’t changed. It was sort of mutual. She had been seeing someone while I was here, in Portland,” he scoffed.

  I rubbed his arm tenderly. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.” He brushed it off, shrugging my hand off.

  “No, you’re not,” I sighed, then hugged my arms.

  “Did you—uh—know Mason was going to ask you to marry him? Have you been talking about marriage?” he asked.

  “No!” I blurted. “He surprised me with this.” I looked down at my hand, the diamond catching the light.

  “You looked surprised.” He laughed stretching out holding the iron veranda railing.

  “How is it you know me so well?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.

  “I guess I pay attention.” He smiled.

  “Yeah . . . you do,” I muttered. I let out a sigh and turned away from his stare. “I should get back—before he notices I’m gone.”

  “He doesn’t know you are out here with me?” He frowned.

  “I slipped out as everyone went to the den,” I replied.

  He nodded, looking back at the door. “Take care of yourself, Lauren,” he said, taking my hand, and pulling me in for a hug. “Are you not coming in?”

  “Nah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I need to head home.” He turned away from me.

  “Nick—”

  He turned suddenly agitated. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I just can’t sit back and watch you be with him,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “My heart just can’t take it.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Nick—” I gasped, my heart skipping.

  He backed away slowly, gave me a wave, and then walked down the stairs to the yard. I wanted to stop him from leaving. I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. The patio door opened a few moments later, and I heard Mason’s voice.

  “There you are,” he said, walking towards me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

  “I wasn’t by myself. Nick just left,” I replied.

  Mason looked around, and asked, “Where did he go?”

  “He said he was heading home,” I replied.

  “Already?” he replied, surprised.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, well, come inside. Everyone is wondering where you are,” Mason said, holding out his arm. I linked my arm with his and we walked back inside. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about Nick. I hated that he left because he couldn’t deal with being around Mason and me. Mason had started to notice my distraction. So did everyone else.

  “What’s bothering you?” Cassie asked.

  “Huh? Nothing. I’m just tired,” I replied. Cassie eyed me.

  “We can head to bed if you want,” Mason suggested.

  “Could you take me home?” I asked. Everyone looked at me funny.

  “I had the guest house set up for us,” he stuttered.

  “Oh, okay, that’s fine.” I put on a smile.

  “I’ll see everyone out,” Cassie said, being the first to stand.

  I followed Mason out the patio door to the backyard. The guest house was far in the back, a good distance from the main house. As I entered bedroom, the smell of freshly cut flowers filled the room, to set the mood. Mason wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt his lips connect with the skin on the back of my neck. Without breaking the embrace, I turned to face him. He kissed me. His tongue plunged between my lips, but it no longer felt right. The way my body used to melt into his had changed. His hands slid up my neck, pulling the clip holding my dark-brown hair out, and grabbed handfuls of it. His lips crushed hard against mine. I gripped his hair in my hands, playfully pulling. Blindly Mason turned, pushing me up against the wall. The need to feel him, touch him and be touched by him nearly overwhelmed me. Then thoughts of Nick started to creep in, and I pulled away, gasping.

  “You okay?” he breathed.

  “Yeah,” I exhaled, shaking it off. Slowly he started to lift my shirt; his fingers gently tickled the skin on my neck. His hands were quick to pull the shirt up over my head. Then his lips caressed my bare skin. His touch was warm, sending a burst of heat through me and a moan escaped through my lips. He tightened his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. My mouth moved beneath his, nibbling and sucking. He groaned as began to I unbutton his shirt and stroked my hands across his chest muscles. His shirt fell to the floor next to my shirt. Mason took my hands, laced his fingers with mine, pinning them against the wall behind me, as he crushed his mouth against mine. Then Nick’s face popped in my head again, and I pushed Mason away.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, breathless.

  “I can’t.” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing my shirt and putting it back on.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I know you planned this night and it has been a beautiful day, but I need to go home. I told my mom I would be there—”

  “Say no more.” He raised his hand to stop me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight. I knew that if I was planning on marrying him, I should be telling him that I loved him by now. But I couldn’t say it and we really needed to talk about that.

  We pulled up to my mother’s house, and Mason parked in the driveway. “Thank you for understanding,” I said, turning in my seat to look at him. “No problem.” He tried to smile , but I knew it bothered him. “I’m going to head home tonight rather than wait until tomorrow,” he said.

  “Oh?” I questioned. “Yeah , I, uh, have some things to take care of. I sort of left my place in a mess to be here today,” he replied.

  My heart lurched.

  He had planned an amazing and memorable birthday and had hoped we would finally consummate our relationship, and I had put it on hold again.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “It is fine, Lauren.” He turned, took my face in his hands and kissed me gently. “We have the rest of our lives to be together.” His smile was strained.

  “I’ll see you on the weekend, then?” I replied, taking off my seat belt.

  “About that.” He sucked a breath in through his teeth.

  “You’re not coming back for the weekend?” I asked.

  “No. I have to work over the weekend this time,” he said.

  “I can come see you, then.”

  “No! I, uh, will be working, and I don’t want to leave you alone the entire time,” he replied. I stared at him in disbelief. He must have forgotten that I knew when he was lying to me. He did it seven months ago, when he left town.

  “I see.” I frowned.

  “I should be available the weekend after that. If you want to come down, I’m fine with that.” He nodded.

  “Okay.” I eyed him. I got out of the car without kissing him good night. Something was up. I waved Mason off, and then went in the house. I shut the door, leaned up against it and let out a long sigh. I was startled by my mother as she walked out of the den.

  “Evening,” she said, shoulders rising and falling as she took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself. I forced a smile, then jumped in her arms and began crying. “Let’s have some tea and talk,” she said, walking me to the kitchen.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  She poured two mugs of hot water, dropping a teabag in each. She place
d a mug in front of me, and then took the chair on my left with the other. I wasn’t sure how to start the conversation.

  “What’s going on?” she finally asked when I didn’t initiate the conversation.

  “I’m not in love with Mason.” I blurted. The look of shock on her face made me wince.

  “But—you said yes to marrying him, Lauren,” she said, shaking her head, trying to wrap her head around what I had just admitted to.

  “I know,” I sighed, the tears welled in my eyes. “Everyone was looking at me, and I felt pressured to give him an answer . . . He sprung this on me, Mom. I had no idea he was even thinking about marriage.”

  “He loves you.”

  “I know he does, and he has been telling me that since we got together but—” I covered my face, ashamed. “I just don’t feel the same.”

  “Talk to me, Lauren. What’s going on?” She placed her hand over mine.

  “I—I think that—I’m still in love with Nick,” I sobbed. I couldn’t look at my mother. I was afraid to see the look on her face.

  “Why do you think you still are?” she asked.

  “Because when I saw him today, those emotions I felt before it ended, all came flooding in,” I said breathlessly.

  “So you know in your heart that you love Nick, and you don’t love Mason?” She confirmed.

  “Yes.” I covered my face again this time the tears escaped. “I’m so ashamed.”

  “No, don’t feel ashamed, sweetheart. You can’t control what the heart wants, and maybe the hurt that Mason put you through was enough to bury those feelings that you did have for him,” she said, trying to make me feel better. I shrugged, not having any other excuse for my emotional betrayal.

  “I don’t know what to do. Mason has changed so much since I met him, and I would hate to bring the worst out in him again,” I cried.

  “First of all, you can’t blame yourself for anyone’s actions. Second, if Mason changes, that’s on him. He doesn’t need to be that way,” she replied.

  “I guess.” I shrugged. “I really wanted it to be him. I did.”

  “Wanting and feeling are two different things, Lauren.” She said giving me a hug. “Where is he now?” she asked.

  “He went to his dad’s.”

  “Give him some space. See how you feel the next time you see him, and if it hasn’t changed, then tell him. It’s not fair to string someone along.” She squeezed my hand.

  “I know,” I whispered, agreeing.

  I lied in bed that evening feeling worse than I did earlier. The talk with my mother didn’t help me sort my feelings. I wanted to tell Mason right away that I didn’t love him, and didn’t think I could. When I first met him, he was cruel, and he pushed me away. Now that he was sweet, caring and in love with me, I wanted no part of it. I didn’t understand it myself. With this weighing on my mind, I couldn’t sleep. I knew Mrs. Peterson was closing the restaurant soon, so I got out of bed got dressed and went to see her. A second opinion may help ease my mind.

  When I first arrived she was just locking the doors. When she saw me standing outside, I started to reconsider why I went there, but the moment she let me in hugged me, it all came pouring out.

  “ Lauren is everything all right?” she asked. I shook my head. “Come in, sweetie.” She locked up and led me over to a table. “Can we talk?” I asked.

  “Is everything okay with your mom?” She asked.

  “Yes.” I replied.

  “What’s on your mind? Does this require coffee or alcohol?”

  She asked with a smile. I couldn’t help but laugh and nod. “I’ll make you something sweet, cheer up that sad face of yours.” She walked behind the bar. When she finally sat down, taking my hand in hers, I let it all out. It felt good to pour my heart out to someone who was impartial to my relationship with Mason and Nick. She listened to me blather on and on.

  “What do you think I should do?” I finally asked, taking a sip of my sangria.

  “Honestly, sweetie, it doesn’t seem at all worth contemplating over. You have your answer.” She screwed her lips to the side, tilted her head, looking over at me. “You love Nick, and as amazing as he might be, he isn’t the answer either. He hurt you, he lied, and not about something small, it was a big lie.” She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers again. “I know that being loved is an amazing feeling, but I know that when that love isn’t returned, it puts a strain on both parties involved.” I knew she was right.

  “I feel that strain, and I think that Mason is starting too as well,” I replied.

  “I wouldn’t wait for two weeks to pass, I would tell him right away and not over the phone,” she suggested. “Go to him, break it to him gently, and see where it goes from there. Maybe space is all you need?”

  “We barely see each other as it is. Space isn’t the problem,” I sighed.

  “Maybe a vacation together?” she suggested.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I have only been in love once . . . twice. I know that this isn’t it.” I wiped the tears from my face.

  “Then you have your answer,” she urged. I nodded, holding up my head with the palm of my hand.

  “Sorry to keep you so late,” I replied, and got up to hug her.

  “Oh, don’t mention it. I never get the chance to do this. It feels good to give someone else advice.” She said with a chuckle. I gathered my things and made my way out. Mrs. Peterson hugged me and then watched me to my car before locking up.

  I drove straight home and went to bed, leaving it for the morning. When I wake up, I’ll make my plans to head out to Washington, and see Mason. I think Mrs. Peterson was right, I can’t let this fester for two weeks. He deserved to know.

  The next morning, I called Mason, but he never answered. My mother had already left for church and would probably meet Mrs. Foster for brunch. After the sixth try, I gave up and got ready. I sat on the front porch, staring at Nick’s number, debating on asking him if he had seen Mason. Then I sent Mason another text, telling him that I would be heading out to see him. It was angering me that he didn’t return my calls. I had been to his apartment three times before and he had programmed it in my GPS.

  I called my mother. “Mom, I’m driving out to Washington. I should be back tomorrow,” leaving a message on her answering machine.

  The drive would take me at least five hours making my arrival time approximately one in the afternoon. He should be awake by then, it was Sunday after all. This was not going to be an easy conversation and I had no idea how he would react to what I had to say. It was more than likely that I would be driving home afterwards, so I wanted to give myself ample time to get home safely. With the weather being so unpredictable lately, I wanted to be safe.

  When I pulled up to the building in Washington, where Mason lived, I parked in the back since I didn’t have his card to get into the underground parking. I tried to call him again before entering the building but he still never answered. I was so furious with him now.

  The doorman smiled as I entered.

  “Evening, Miss Miller,” he said, holding the door for me. “Evening, Chester.” I smiled and walked towards the elevator.

  He put his key in the elevator and selected Mason’s floor. The door to the elevator opened, and I got in. As I leaned back on the wall of the elevator, I reminisced about the time Nick and I spent at the hotel. I chuckled to myself, shaking it off. The door to the penthouse foyer opened. I walked in, calling out to Mason first. “Hello?” I called out more loudly. “Mason, are you home?” I

  asked, walking down the hall to the living room. “Oh my god,” I gasped, looking around at the mess. The place was trashed. It looked as though someone had robbed the place. I grabbed my phone to call the police, while calling out to Mason again when I noticed something on the floor by the white leather couch. The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the ceramic tile. Mason had thrown one hell of a bash and that was why his place was trashed. Empty bottles of champagne were scatt
ered about, among several pieces of female clothing.

  My heart began to pound hard.

  “Mason!” I yelled. This had better be a misunderstanding. My cheeks flared red as I thought about all the guilt I was feeling lately, and all he was doing was sleeping around. “Mason!” I walked out of the living room and stormed down the hall to his bedroom. It was empty but it wasn’t tidy. Slowly I walked over to his bed, kicking the clothes strewn about the floor. Then I saw his phone. It was on the end table. “Shit.” I spun around and started walking back to the living room, when I ran into Nick.

  “Lauren?” he gasped and stepped back, glancing around at the mess. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here? Cleaning up Mason’s mess?” I retorted.

  “Mason didn’t come in to work today.” His jaw clenched.

  “I see.” My head jerked slightly. Nick hadn’t quite noticed the red lace panties dangling from my hand until I raised my arm, and held up the red lacy panties by the waistband. “Maybe this is the reason why,” I said and let them fall to the ground with what little feelings I had left. Even though I couldn’t tell Mason that I loved him, I still cared about him a great deal and I was making an effort. This was the last thing I thought he would do to me after everything he promised.

  Nick’s head tilted sympathetically, “Lauren—”

  I interjected shaking my head, “No—don’t bother trying to defend him.” I walked away. “I should have known.” I shook my head, laughing in disbelief.

  “Lauren.”

  I interjected, “How long have you known?” I asked, spinning around to look at him.

  “I—I didn’t,” he replied.

  I scoffed, shook my head, and looked him directly in the eye. “Fool me once . . .” I said, wiping my cheek.

  “Wait—” he started.

  I spun on one heel, and didn’t stop walking, until I was down the hall by the foyer where the elevator was. Before I could press the button the bell went off and then the doors began to open and out came Mason, with some girl.

  When he looked up, the colour drained from his face and immediately took his arm off the girl.

  “Lauren, wait. This isn’t—” he began. Then Nick came around the corner, stopping short. Nick’s eyes widened, then turned to hate as he stared Mason down.