Page 44 of Fun and Games

"Not many animals do that, do they?" Mason asked.

"I know penguins do, and swans," I said. "And weirdly enough, termites also mate for life."

"I wonder what termites have figured out that humans haven't." Mason handed me back the toy.

"Lots of us humans also mate for life," I pointed out. "You always hear of those old married couples who've been together for fifty years."

"Yeah, but those are rare cases," Mason said. "Most couples don't make it long term. People just aren't made for that kind of thing. Monogamy is a lie."

I stared at him.

"Do you really think that?" I asked.

He put his hands in his pockets and lifted one shoulder.

"That's been my experience," he said. "Nothing lasts forever. Everyone always moves on eventually."

"I think that's a pretty cynical way of looking at things," I said.

"That's the Disney Princess fan in you," Mason said.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" I asked.

"All those sappy stories have warped your way of thinking," he said. "There's no Prince Charming waiting to sweep you off your feet for a happily ever after."

"I never said there was." I swallowed around the lump in my throat. "I just think it's a little jaded to assume no couples can ever make it long term."

"I'm not jaded," he said firmly. "I'm realistic. Nothing lasts forever. People always move on."

My breath hitched.

I thought David and I would last forever.

I'd really, truly believed that.

But now he was gone. I was left alone.

And the one guy who I'd started to…

The one guy I'd thought maybe I might…

He didn't believe in true love.

The sting of tears began to prick the back of my eyes. I blinked quickly and turned away from Mason.

"I'm going to go pay for these before we head home." My tongue felt heavy in my mouth.

I wasn't going to get into an argument with Mason over the concept of love.

That wasn't the kind of conversation you had with your friends-with-benefits, after all.

Seventeen

After that tripto the safari park, when we had been driving back, I'd mostly been silent, lost in thought as Mason drove. He tried to make some light conversation about the animals we'd seen or the photos he'd taken, but, although I responded to his questions, I didn't instigate. If he wondered why I was being so quiet, he didn't mention it.

When we got home, I wondered if maybe he would invite me back to his place, but instead he'd simply dropped me off at home with a wave and wished mesweet dreams.

I wasn't upset. In fact, it was a relief.