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My eyes flick open, and I gasp, pushing my torso off the grass.
I look to the headstone, to the photo of Deaton on the grass beside me, and then something calls my eyes to the curb, just in time to see Chase’s truck rolling to a stop.
I push onto my knees in confusion, but the door opens a moment later, and Mason steps out.
I collapse all over again, a complete and total wreck, but something drags me to my feet. It’s strong and unfamiliar. Itcarries me across the grass, and it doesn’t stop until I’m falling forward.
Mason catches me with open arms, twining them so tight around me, I know this is it. That there’s no escaping, no running, no pushing.
The cables have connected, the metal has melted, the fractured pieces fusing together and shaping anew.
“Shh,” he soothes. “It’s okay, Pretty Little. You’re okay. This is my fault.”
I try to shake my head, but I’m pressed too tight against him.
“I didn’t mean to push you or guilt you into coming here. I should have left you to come here when you were ready.” He pulls me impossibly tighter. “I just keep fucking up, and I need to sit back?—”
“I love you.”
Mason’s body turns to stone.
Ever so slowly, he lifts his head, and when our eyes lock, it’s like the world tilts on its axis. The mountains shift, and the skies open up, and when the sun does quite literally break through the November clouds, as if only shining on us, the barest hint of wind pressing at my back, pushing me to him, I know it’s right.
That Deaton is here with us, telling me it’s okay. That this is okay.
“Baby…” His mouth moves as if to speak the words, but no actual sound comes out as he waits as though wondering if he conjured them up in his head.
So I say them again, louder, my every focus on him and him alone.
“I love you, Mason. More than I knew I was capable of. More than I knew was possible. And more than I was ready for, but I’m…I’m ready now.”
Mason shakes against me, his hands coming up and gripping my face, holding my eyes on his.
“I’m yours, Mason.”
“Mine?” he dares in a broken whisper. “You’re standing here, in this place of all places, and telling me that you’re mine?”
I nod.
“You understand what that means, don’t you?” His eyes are piercing. “If you’re mine, he’s mine, too.”
My lips quiver, and I nod again.
“Payton.” He shakes, swallowing hard as moisture builds in his brown eyes. “I need to know you understand what that means. I need to know even if you change your mind one day, and I’ll doeverythingin my power to make sure you won’t, butifyou do…I need to know he’ll still be mine. I can’t lose him, Payton. I will not lose that little boy.”
“I understand.” My voice trembles with the truth. “He’s just as much yours as he is mine.”
Mason clenches his jaw, giving a jerky nod. “He is. He’s mine, too.”
I cry, wrapping my arms around his neck, and Mason buries his face in mine.
I don’t know how long we stand there, but when a car door opens, we pull apart, just in time to watch as Chase lifts Deaton from his car seat.
My hand shoots to my mouth to hold the sob in, and Mason takes my other, giving me a gentle squeeze.
“We picked him up from Aunt Sarah on the way here,” he whispers. “I hope that’s okay.”
I nod, gaze glued on Deaton. His tiny shoes hit the grass, and like the pro he’s quickly become, he breaks into a wobbly run. Relief and resignation have my throat clogging as he marches this way, not stopping until his arms are locking around Mason’s leg.
