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Masonwassittinginthe living room looking worried as I came down to get ready to leave for the bakery.
“Hey,” I greeted him cautiously.
“Tell me this picture of an ultrasound I found hanging out of your bag isn’t a picture of your baby,” he said, disappointment, concern, and fear all laced in his voice.
I felt rage build up from deep within me. How dare he violate my privacy like that?
“You had no right, Mason. You can’t just go through my things,” I said, grabbing the picture from him.
“So, you’re pregnant?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“It’s none of your business.” I stuffed the picture into my pocket, my eyes heating with tears.
“That explains so much,” he said, looking at me. “Do I know the father?”
His voice was filled with warning, and I didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t tell me it’s Tristan,” he said, coldly.
I remained quiet and his question answered itself.
“Goddammit, Arya,” he yelled, punching the couch.
“Do you know what this means? Do you have any idea what you’ve dragged all of us into now?” He looked at me with disappointment. “I’m going to lose my job over this.”
He raked both hands through his hair.
“Tristan said he’d take care of that.”
He turned to me, eyes blazing with anger.
“Take care of what?” he yelled. “He shouldn’t have to take care of anything. I told you to stay away from him. You promised that you would, but clearly…you didn't. His parents aren’t going to let this one slide.”
I’d never seen Mason this upset, and he was scaring me.
“I love him, Mason. And he loves me. Why can’t everyone just accept it and move the fuck on?” I yelled back.
“Because life doesn’t work like that, Arya. Stop with the blind devotion. You're not married to him. He could wake up tomorrow and change his mind. He’s rich, Arya. Think of all the women he can have in New York.”
Mason’s words cut deep and hurt like hell. How could he say that? Tristan was his best friend.
Suddenly, the front door flung open, and we both looked up in surprise as Tristan stormed in.
“Don’t ever say anything like that to her again. What kind of brother would say that to his sister?”
“You have the nerve to walk into this house and talk to me like that after knocking up my sister?” Mason directed his anger at Tristan now.
I knew exactly how this would go. This was about to turn into the ugliest brawl in the history of best friends.
“I didn’t use Arya, Mason. I love her and we’re having a baby together. If you want to be a part of our lives–and our baby’s life–you’ll have to be more respectful,” Tristan said, puffing his chest with his fists clenched by his side.
“Respectful? Where was the respect when you were fucking my little sister, you son of a bitch,” Mason swung at Tristan and the fight started in a flash. They were rolling on the floor, throwing punches that barely connected.
“Hey!” Mom yelled, running into the room. “Hey! Not in my house!”
Tristan and Mason both sat up, breathless with red faces, and looked sheepishly at my mother. I didn't know she was still home. This situation couldn’t get any worse. Did she hear everything?
“You're going to stop this right now. You both know better than this. Violence doesn't solve anything,” she said, pointing toward the door. “Get out of my house and stop acting like fools.”
