Chapter 13: Broken Pieces
The night had fallen heavy around them, the city's pulse dimming under the weight of the moment. Marissa stood in the doorway, her breath shallow as Mason's words lingered in the air, electric and raw. The storm that had rattled her heart now seemed to calm, but only just enough to allow the truth to slip through.
Mason's gaze was soft, almost fragile, like the way you would hold something precious you feared could shatter in your hands. His fingers brushed against her skin, sending a tremor through her that she tried so desperately to ignore.
"Let me in," he whispered, his voice barely audible against the hum of the night.
For a second, it felt like time had stopped. Her chest tightened, her mind racing through the possibilities of what might happen, of what might not. But no matter how much she fought it, she couldn't stop the pull, the yearning for something more than the brokenness they'd both endured.
Marissa stepped back, opening the door wide enough for him to slip inside, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders.
She led him to the living room, her every step measured, as though treading on fragile ground. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, uncertain of how to navigate the treacherous waters that lay between them.
Mason sat down on the couch, a tense silence enveloping them. He wasn't touching her now, but the space between them felt impossibly small. The air was thick with everything left unsaid, a wall of years that had stacked between them, too high to see over, too wide to bridge.
"You wanted the truth," Mason began, his voice low, strained. "And you deserve it."
Marissa could feel the weight of his words. They hung between them like an offering, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to accept it.
"I was wrong," he continued, his eyes locked on hers, filled with a desperation she hadn't seen in him before. "So wrong about everything. About you. About us. But I couldn't let go. Not for a single second. I pushed you away, and I hurt you in ways I never meant to. But the truth is… I've never stopped loving you. Not for a minute. Not when I pushed you away, not when I let you leave. I didn't know how to fix it then, but I know now."
Marissa's breath caught in her throat. His words were heavy, too heavy, carrying the weight of all the time they had lost. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to fall into his arms, let him hold her and make everything better, but the pieces of her heart were still shattered, scattered too far to be easily put back together.
"Why didn't you fight for me?" she whispered, the rawness of her voice surprising even her. "Why didn't you fight for us when it mattered?"
Mason winced as if her words struck him deeper than she had intended. His hand curled into a fist, his knuckles white. "I was scared, Marissa. Scared of losing you, scared of ruining you further. But I see now that I made a mistake. I should've fought. I should've fought for you. But I didn't know how to do that... not when I was falling apart myself."
Marissa looked away, the ache in her chest spreading to her limbs. She hadn't expected this, hadn't expected him to bare himself so completely. And yet, even as she wanted to embrace it, to let the love they'd once shared rush back, a part of her recoiled.
"I can't just forget it all," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't forget how you left. How you broke me."
"I never meant to break you," Mason's voice cracked, and for a brief moment, the stoic man she'd known disappeared, replaced by the vulnerable boy who had once loved her with everything he had. "I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away. But I see now that all I've done is hurt you. And I'm so sorry."
The apology was a balm to a wound that had never fully healed, but it was still just words.... words that didn't erase the pain, the scars, the distance that had grown between them.
Marissa's heart twisted, the wall she had spent years building around herself beginning to crack, just slightly. But she was terrified. Terrified of letting herself fall again, terrified of letting Mason back into her heart.
"I don't know if I can trust you again," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can go back to that place where I loved you so fiercely, where I believed in us. I don't know if I can survive the fall this time."
Mason's eyes softened, and he moved closer, but he didn't reach out. He kept his distance, respecting the boundaries she was still trying to hold onto.
"Trust doesn't come easy. And I don't expect you to trust me just because I'm here," he said. "But I'll show you, Marissa. I'll show you that I'm here for you, that I'm not going anywhere. I'll prove to you that the love we had wasn't just a fleeting thing. It was real, and it's still here. I'm still here."
Marissa swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe in the possibility of something more, but the fear, the doubt, the pain, it was all so much.
She had loved him once, with every fiber of her being. And now, she had to decide if she could love him again, knowing that the past was never as simple as they wanted it to be.
For a long moment, they sat in silence, the room thick with unsaid words, with memories they both carried.
Finally, Marissa spoke, her voice steady but filled with uncertainty. "I don't know if I can do this, Mason. But I'll listen. I'll hear you out."
Mason's gaze softened, a quiet relief flooding through him. "That's all I'm asking for," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "Just a chance to prove that I'm not the same person I was. That I can be the man you need. The man you deserve."
And in that moment, Marissa realized something...something that had been buried under years of hurt and anger. She couldn't forget the past, and she couldn't erase the pain. But maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to heal. There was a chance to rewrite their story, to create a new beginning from the wreckage.
And as Mason sat beside her, the weight of the world between them, she made the choice. She would listen. She would hear him out. Because, somewhere deep inside, a small part of her still believed in the possibility of love.
Maybe not the love they had before, but a new kind of love. A love that would rise from the ashes of everything they had lost.