Relentless (Mason Family 4)

The door shuts.

My heart pounds.

Nate returns with a bag dangling from his arm.

I blow out my breath. “What’s that?” I ask, annoyed.

“It’s for you.”

He sets it on the table, and I peer inside. Multiple take-out containers are stacked neatly in the bag.

“What the heck?” I ask.

I take them out one by one until I spy a note at the bottom. I pick it up.

Shaye,

Since you’re too sick to come to the office, I thought you might need some nourishment. A variety of chicken noodle and tomato soups from a place across town that I love.

I miss you. I’m sorry.

Get well soon. And call me. I need to apologize and figure out how to fix the mess I made.

Oliver

“He sent you soup?” Nate laughs. “That’s awesome.”

I set the note down and look at the display in front of me. It is kind of awesome.

“Are you ever going to call him?” he asks.

I miss him. I miss him so freaking much. I wish I could pick up the phone and just pour my heart out, but I tried that already, and he ended things.

“What else do I say, Nate?”

"Maybe you don’t say anything. Maybe you listen for a chance.”

I give him a dirty look, making him laugh.

“He just wants to clean up his mess,” I say, glancing at the note again. “He probably wants to smooth it over so he can go on.”

“Or maybe he knows he’s wrong and wants to actually apologize.”

“Fine. I accept. But you know what I need? Not to pretend things are fine but know they aren’t. I don’t live to make him feel better about his fuckups.” My heart squeezes. “I mean, I told him that I loved him, and it wasn’t enough to fix things for me. I don’t owe him anything else.”

“Guys are dumb.”

“I know.”

He laughs. “I mean …”

He’s interrupted again by the door.

“I’ll get it,” he says, heading more quickly to the door this time. The exchange is executed much faster, and he’s back with another bag. “For you.”

My heart squeezes in my chest. Hope begins to flutter. I dig through the contents and find the note.

Shaye,

I asked the pharmacist to send you every over-the-counter relief that she had since I don’t know your symptoms. I also asked her to send you a Snickers in case you’re as sad as I am. I know you like them frozen.

Call me. Please. I’m sorry.

Oliver

Nate stares at me, trying not to laugh.

I sit down, my hand shaking.

“Okay, let’s say I do call him,” I begin carefully. “What do I say?”

“Probably hello. That’s always good.”

I smack him on the shoulder.

“You tell him how you feel,” he says. “It’s not that complicated. You tell him that you have a voice and the right to be heard. Tell him you’re pissed about the money because you don’t want to be controlled. You tell him that if he ever makes you cry again that I’ll break him into so many pieces that they’ll never find them all.”

I grin.

“You just … be you, Shaye. But give the guy a chance to explain himself. People fuck up. It happens. Doesn’t mean they’re a perpetual fuckup unless you’re talking about Murray.”

“Hey! Be nice to Murray,” I say with a laugh.

“Me being too nice to Murray is only hurting Murray at this point.” Nate laughs too. “Call the guy, Shaye. I’ve been him. I’ve been the guy who did things wrong. At least hear him out.”

I study my friend’s face. Nate will, without a doubt, always be on my side. And if he—the man who doesn’t even like Oliver—thinks it’s safe to hear him out, then I should.

“Okay,” I say. “Push my phone to me.”

He slides it to me. But before I can do anything, my doorbell rings again.

“What can it be now?” I ask.

He shrugs and heads for the door.

I hear the hushed voices. The door shuts. Footsteps tap their way toward me.

“What is it now, Nate …?”

I gasp as I look up and see Oliver standing in front of my friend. His tie is askew, his hair in waves, and there are bags under his eyes that remind me of my own.

He stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

“You blocked me,” he says.

My shoulders slump as I let out a breath. “You broke up with me.”

This startles him. He moves toward me and sits beside me.

Having his body close to mine, feeling his hand sit atop mine, makes tears form in my eyes.

I’ve missed you so much.

I look at Nate. “Will you …?”

Nate winks at me. “Call me if you need me. And you,” he says, pointing at Oliver, “behave. Or I’ll come for you.”

Oliver gives him a half-grin and then watches him walk out.

“I can’t decide if I like him or not,” he says.

“Why are you here?” I ask, unable to do anything but get to the point.