Chapter 132
Emily's POV
The streets were dark and slick with rain by the time I started driving. I didn't have a plan, didn't know where to look, but I couldn't just sit at home and do nothing.
I checked the shelter on Fifth Street first, the one Alex had mentioned. The woman at the front desk barely looked up when I described Mason, just shook her head and said they hadn't seen anyone matching his description.
I tried three more shelters after that, then circled back to the neighborhood where I'd first found him. The rain was coming down harder now, turning the sidewalks into rivers, and I had to squint through the windshield to see anything. My phone sat in the cupholder, silent. Ethan had called twice, but I'd ignored him. I didn't have the energy to explain what was happening, not yet.
By midnight, I'd driven through half the city. My hands were cramped from gripping the steering wheel, my eyes burning from staring at every shadowy figure I passed. But I couldn't stop. The thought of Mason out here, alone in the rain, made my chest ache in a way I didn't want to examine too closely.
It was almost four AM when I finally found him.
He was sitting on the bank of the river, his back against a concrete embankment, his arms wrapped around his knees. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothes soaked through, and even from the car I could see him shivering. I pulled over and killed the engine, my heart slamming against my ribs.
For a moment, I just sat there, staring at him through the rain-streaked window. He looked so small, so fragile, and the sight of him made something inside me crack wide open.
I got out of the car and ran toward him, the rain soaking through my jacket in seconds.
"Mason!"
He looked up, his eyes wide and startled, and for a second I thought he might run. But then I reached him, dropping to my knees in front of him, and his expression crumpled.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible over the rain. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I thought—"
"Shh," I said, pulling him into my arms. "It's okay. You're okay."
He clung to me, his body trembling against mine, and I felt my own tears mixing with the rain on my cheeks. I didn't care that we were both soaked. I didn't care that the riverbank was muddy and cold. All I cared about was that I'd found him, that he was safe, that he was here.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. And as I held him, as I felt the way his fingers gripped the back of my jacket like I was the only solid thing in his world, I realized something that made my breath catch.
Alex had been right.
I had feelings for Mason. Real feelings. The kind that made my chest ache and my pulse race and my hands shake when I thought about losing him.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
I held Mason tighter, feeling his shivering body pressed against mine, when my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Some instinct made me pull back just enough to fish it out with one hand, keeping the other arm locked around Mason's shoulders.
The screen was wet, the words blurred at the edges, but I could still read them.
Alex: I can't do this anymore.
My breath caught.
Alex: I thought I could. I thought I could handle watching you care about someone else the way you cared about me and Ethan. But I can't.
Alex: You were right. I tried to control something I had no right to control. And now I've lost you anyway.
Alex: I'm done, Emily. I'm out.
The phone slipped from my hand, landing in the mud beside me. I stared at it, the screen going dark, and felt something crack open inside my chest.
"Emily?" Mason's voice was small, uncertain. "What's wrong?"
I couldn't answer. I couldn't do anything except pull him closer, burying my face in his wet hair as the tears came. They mixed with the rain, hot and stinging, and I didn't know if I was crying for Mason—for the way he'd looked sitting alone on that riverbank, for the terror I'd felt thinking I might not find him—or if I was crying for Alex, for the sharp, brutal finality of those three words.
I'm out.
Mason's arms tightened around me, tentative at first, then firmer, like he was trying to hold me together. I felt his breath hitch against my shoulder, heard the soft, broken sound he made, and I realized he was crying too.
God, what was wrong with me?
Most people needed one person. One partner. One relationship that filled the spaces inside them and made them feel whole. But me? I needed three. I'd needed Ethan's steadiness, his unwavering presence, the way he grounded me when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. I'd needed Alex's intensity, his sharp edges, the way he pushed me to be braver and bolder than I ever thought I could be.
And now I needed Mason. I needed the way he looked at me like I was the only solid thing in his world. I needed the way his presence made me feel less alone, less broken, like maybe we could put each other back together piece by piece.
How greedy could one person be?
I pulled back just enough to look at Mason's face, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy with tears, his lips trembling. My chest ached. It physically ached, like something inside me was tearing in two.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure who I was apologizing to. Mason. Alex. Myself. All of us.
"Don't be," Mason said, his voice rough. "Please don't be sorry. You found me. You came looking for me. Nobody's ever—"
His voice broke, and he pressed his forehead against mine, his hands gripping my jacket so tightly I could feel the fabric straining.
I closed my eyes, my arms wrapping around him again, and let myself hold him. Let myself be held.
Because the truth was, I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know if the tears were for the boy in my arms or for the man who'd just walked away. I didn't know if the ache in my chest was grief or relief or guilt or all of it tangled together.
All I knew was that losing any of them hurt. Losing Ethan would hurt. Losing Alex did hurt. And the thought of losing Mason—this boy I barely knew, this boy who'd stumbled into my life less than a week ago—that hurt too.
What the hell was wrong with me?