Chapter 41 – The Way You Stay
The silence between them wasn't empty. It was full of everything they were too afraid to say.
Marissa sat on the edge of the bed, the soft cotton of Mason's hoodie clinging to her knees. Her fingers twisted the hem again and again, knuckles white. The storm inside her hadn't passed not fully but she was learning to breathe through it.
Mason stood by the window, staring out into the night. The moonlight cast a silver outline across his bare chest, and for a moment, she just watched him like memorizing him might keep her anchored.
"Tell me something true," she said, her voice quiet, but clear.
He turned. His eyes locked with hers. "I'm scared," he admitted.
"Of what?"
"Of how much you mean to me."
The words landed between them like a soft explosion not destructive, but irreversible.
She looked down, heart pounding. "You don't have to say that just because I'm still here."
"I'm saying it because I've never been more certain of anything," Mason said, stepping forward. "You think you ruin things, Marissa. But maybe you just reveal what's already broken."
She swallowed, hard. "Then why are you still standing here?"
"Because broken doesn't scare me. Losing you does."
That did it.
Her eyes burned, and the tears fell freely this time. Not from weakness, but from finally being seen. Fully. Without flinching.
He knelt in front of her, hands resting gently on her thighs. "I'm not here to fix you," he whispered. "I'm here to stay."
She reached for his face, touched his jaw like he might vanish if she blinked. "I don't know how to let someone stay."
"Then let me teach you," he said. "One day at a time. One breath at a time."
Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling. The world didn't pause for them but for that moment, it didn't have to.
Because she didn't need forever promises or grand gestures.
Just this.
Just him.
The way he stayed.
Mason's fingers laced with hers, grounding her. He didn't press or ask for more. He just stayed there, holding her hands like they were the most important thing he'd ever held.
And maybe to him… they were.
They sat like that for a while. No rush. No pressure. Just breathing.
Marissa didn't know how to explain the way her chest ached with the weight of being chosen. Not desired. Chosen. Again and again, despite the mess, despite the sharp edges.
"I used to believe love was something you had to earn," she finally whispered, voice hoarse from emotion. "Like… if you were perfect enough, quiet enough, less damaged… maybe someone would stay."
Mason looked up at her, his expression unreadable and raw. "Who taught you that?"
"Life," she said with a soft, bitter laugh. "And a few people who claimed to care."
Mason exhaled through his nose and lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles slow and reverent. "Then I hope to unteach you every lie they left behind."
She closed her eyes, and for a second, let herself believe it was possible. That someone could look at her wreckage and still want to call it home.
Later that night, they went for a walk.
The storm had passed completely, leaving behind the scent of wet earth and pine. The woods surrounding the cabin were hushed and glistening, leaves dripping quietly in the aftermath.
Mason kept his hand in hers as they walked, their steps soft over the muddy path. He didn't speak much and neither did she but it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was peaceful.
Like they didn't need words to fill the spaces between them anymore.
They ended up near the lake, its surface calm and glassy under the moonlight. Marissa shivered slightly, and Mason shrugged off his flannel and draped it around her shoulders without a word.
She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder.
"This doesn't feel real," she said.
"It's real," he replied. "I know because I've never wanted anything more."
They stood like that until the chill deepened, and they returned to the cabin. Inside, everything was dimly lit and warm blankets piled on the couch, the soft hum of a record playing something slow and haunting in the background.
Mason made hot chocolate in mismatched mugs. Marissa laughed at how he burned his tongue and then tried to pretend he hadn't.
They curled up on the couch again, her feet tucked beneath his thigh, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders.
"I want to ask you something," she said after a while.
"Shoot."
"If I left… would you chase me?"
He didn't hesitate. "I'd find you. No matter where you ran."
She blinked at him. "Even if I didn't want to be found?"
He turned toward her, his hand brushing the hair from her face. "Then I'd wait. Right here. Until you did."
Her heart cracked in the best way wide open, letting the light in.
"I don't want to run anymore," she whispered. "I'm just… scared I won't know how to stay."
Mason pulled her into his lap then, his arms folding around her like armor.
"Then fall apart here," he said. "Learn here. Break and rebuild right here."
And she did.
Not all at once.
But enough to know she was safe. Enough to let her guard down. Enough to believe that maybe just maybe the love she always feared didn't exist was holding her now.
That night, tangled in Mason's arms with the rain long gone and the night quiet around them, Marissa didn't dream of falling.
She dreamed of staying.