“Oh, wait!” I palm my forehead. “Honey, I’m so sorry. You didn’t even ask yet.” I try to pull the ring off, but it’s useless. It might as well be superglued on. “Shit. It’s stuck.” I chuckle and shrug helplessly. That’s okay. I’m never taking it off. “It’d probably be a good time to ask me to marry you now.”
He doesn’t match my humor. A tear dribbles down his cheek. Mason’s not cold and callous, but he certainly isn’t one for public displays of affection…or unguarded emotion.
“Mason, what’s—”
“I can’t do this.” His breath is ragged as a single tear turns into a small stream. Wiping the wetness from his cheeks with the back of his thumb, he adds, “I’m—I’m so sorry, Avery. I love you so much, but I… I really was going to ask…but…seeing it…” His eyes lock on the ring choking my finger. “Not like this. I’m so sorry.” He covers his face, hiding his tormented expression. “I’m so, so sorry.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise like an animal that senses danger. “What’s wrong?” I try to reach for his hand. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to rush.”
He quickly places his hands in his lap, safe from my clutches.
“I think we’re over.” He closes his eyes and braces like he’s paused at the top of a rollercoaster. “I want to break up.”
The world stops. Everybody in this fancy steakhouse freezes in place. The sound of thunder roars around us. Lightning strikes, splitting the ground, and from the crack, fire emerges. Or maybe it’s only in my head. For now, I just focus on breathing. In and out. One breath at a time.
Mason watches my stunned eyes and tries to fill the silence. “I…I really do love you…I just…we’re…”
I’m having trouble making sense of the moment. His stammering sounds garbled in my head. I’m wearing a ring…but we’re over? What the fuck?… It’s my birthday… I can’t breathe.
“We’re what?” I force the words out in a staccato. “Tell me.”
“Can we go home?” Rotating his head, he takes in a cursory glance around the fancy steakhouse, ensuring no one’s listening. “Please?”
“No.” I shake my head and deliver my message clearly and curtly. “Start talking.”
He shrugs his shoulders and holds up his palms to the ceiling. “Our sex life is…” He shakes his head, his grim expression saying everything he can’t.
I quickly defend myself. “I’ve tried. You’re the one who’s always tired.”
He drags both hands over his red, splotchy face. “Lately, I haven’t wanted to have sex with you.” His words are like an uppercut to my ego, then a follow-up sucker punch to my heart. “Please,” he says again, studying my face as intently as I was scouring his earlier.
“Please what?”
“Can we leave? Can we at least just talk in the car?”
My throat is dry, so I reach for my water, but my hand doesn’t cooperate. My limbs are numb. Everything is heavy, even my eyelids. Blinking becomes a chore. Ignoring his request, I ask, “Did you cheat on me?”
He buries his face in his hands. “No,” he mumbles.
I nod in relief. I don’t know why it makes it better, but at least—
“But I wanted to.”
My eyes snap back to Mason, who hangs his head.
“I’m sorry. If I’m being honest…there’s someone else I’m interested in. Nothing happened.”
“Yet,” I whisper, feeling the burn in my chest like I just took a straight swig of Jameson. “You’re leaving me for someone?”
“This is about us, Avery. I’m trying to be truthful. We have a business together, we live together, and I don’t want to string you along. Yes, there’s someone I’m interested in, but I would never ever cheat on you. She’s not important.”
“Yet,” I whisper again.
My demeanor is eerily calm. Mason looks concerned at my collectedness. I should be crying, blubbering…maybe throwing something at his head. But for some reason, I’m very interested in the logistics at the moment.
“What’s her name?” I ask.
Mason has the audacity to roll his eyes at me. “Do you really want to do this? It’s only going to hurt your feelings.”
“You brought her up,” I hiss. “You’ve just humiliated me and broken my heart on my birthday. The least you could do is answer my questions.”
His eyes shift uncomfortably. “Maura.”
“Where’d you meet her? And when?”
“I, uh…” His pleading eyes beg me to stop my interrogation, but when I raise my brows at him, he answers. “She’s a trainer. I met her at the gym.”
Of course he did. Mason and I live together, work together, eat together, and sleep together. The only time we’re not attached at the hip is when he’s killing himself at the gym. I always thought we were a good balance. My face is soft and a little round. Mason’s jaw is chiseled and cut in clean angles. I love the feel of his strong arm against the soft slopes of my curves as I nestle into his hard stomach and muscular chest. I like how it feels when he holds me at night. I thought he liked the way I feel too.
I realize it’s been a while since we’ve had sex, but we built a brand management business from the ground up. We scored our first major contract with a Fortune 500 company. We’re overloaded, overwhelmed, and have had more instant success than we could’ve dreamed of. I thought we were just tired.
“When did you meet her?”
His eyes stay locked on his lap. “Right after I bought that ring. Avery, I’m sorry. But honestly, are you happy? Are you excited about the idea of a future together or tolerating it?”
“Tolerating?” That’s what you’ve been doing with our relationship? Tolerating it?
I ignore the twisting and writhing in my gut, telling me I don’t want to dig deeper. No more truths tonight—I can’t handle it. But I ignore my instincts. “Are you not attracted to me?”
“You are the perfect woman in every single way…” He ducks his head, ashamed. “Except the way that matters to me the most. I tried to get past it. You were always on the cusp of being beautiful, but then the business started and I handled my stress by working out and you handled it by…”
Eating. It’s the word he wants to say. But while he already dug his grave, I don’t think he’s dumb enough to crawl into the open casket.
I narrow my eyes. “I gained eight pounds, Mason.” Fuck you.
“It’s not just the weight. It’s how you dress…or don’t. You never put on makeup. We live off of garbage takeout food. We’re sloppy. There’s nothing sexy or appealing about the way we are around each other and I couldn’t say anything without sounding like an ass. I know how this all sounds, but I can’t help how I feel. I was panicking about committing to our lifestyle forever. It wouldn’t last. We’d end up divorced in a few years, and isn’t that worse than this?”