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I stomp away from the table, but before I can round the corner of the bar, find myself face-to-face with Mason.

"Hey," he says sheepishly. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"I'm kind of…" Busy. I was going to say busy. But it's easy to discern from just a quick glance around the dining room that it's a lie, and his eyes are sad, the way mine are most of the time. "Yeah, sure," I say instead.

He gestures to the empty booth behind the two men, and I follow, sitting across from him, which puts me back-to-back with Jason.

"Do you remember our conversation last night?" he asks.

I nod. "I think so. I remember most of it."

"Did you mean it? Do you really want me to leave you alone?"

"I think…it's for the best."

"Shit." He sighs, looking up at the ceiling before leaning in and reaching across the table for my hand. "I was really hoping you wouldn't be able to say it to my face."

I almost couldn't, but then I remembered how disappointed he'd be if he ever found out who I really was, and that made it easier.

"I'm sorry," I say softly. "It really isn't you or anything you did; it's me. I'm the one who's…mentally unwell."

"You and those phantom limbs, right?"

I nod again. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"You're going to miss me," he says.

"Probably."

"Who are you going to talk to in the middle of the night when you're lonely?"

"No one," I tell him. "I'll just have to get used to being lonely again."

"I hate that."

I offer him a sad smile. "I'd better get back to work. I'll see you around."

I slide out of the booth, but before I can walk away, he stops me.

"Oh, Lilah?"

"Yeah?"

"I hate to ask, but I lost my ID and one of my cards, and the last time I know I had them was before I went to your place. Do you mind looking for them?"

"Oh…sure, no problem."

"Thanks. If you find them, you can just leave them at the shop or toss them in my yard or something—that way you don't have to look at my stupid face again."

"I wouldn't do that. I like your face."

Mason smiles before shifting his gaze downward. "Okay. Bye, Lilah."

"Bye."

I stay there, watching him leave. The door closes behind him, and reflected in the glass are the men in masks in the back corner. I almost forgot about those assholes.

"Hey! This coffee is cold," an older man calls from across the restaurant, waving his arms in the air.