Page 73 of House of Payne

But it’s been two months since I signed the contract.

Two months since I gave up my freedom to save my father’s diner, and Noah and I have only grown apart since then.

The hours and days bleed into each other, a blur of spending my waking hours scrubbing and cleaning and my nights tossing and turning, searching for absolution and answers that don’t exist.

I feel guilty for my role in all of it, but I’m also almost relieved.

At least I don’t have to worry about the kind of lies I have to tell Noah to keep up appearances.

I hate myself for the longing and confusion in Noah’s voice when Ianswer the phone, and I can only hope his new job keeps him busy and distracted enough.

When will you admit to yourself you want him to break up with you? It would make things a hell of a lot easier, and you wouldn’t have to feel guilty for turning your back on him after everything.

I’ve wrestled with that every day for the past eight weeks.

At night, I lay awake missing Noah with a fierceness that surprises me, but in the cold light of day when everything comes rushing back, I question myself and my decisions all over again.

I should be a better person.

I should let him go.

But I’ve never been good at doing what I’m supposed to do.

A muffled moan from the thin walls brings me back to the present, and I realize I’ve been standing in the middle of the room, clutching the rag, for the past few minutes. With a sigh, I return to my tasks, wanting the menial part of my job to erase everything else.

Why can’t it be enough? Why can’t pushing myself every day and returning to my room exhausted be enough to keep the guilt and frustration at bay?

And why can’t I stop thinking about how it feels to be close to Mason?

I’ve hardly seen him in the past two weeks, but every time I hear his voice, the ache in my belly grows.

Whenever I spot him across the room, I can’t breathe.

I hate him for the way he makes me feel, and for making me question what I’ve always known.

Noah and I are supposed to be building a life together, one built on honesty and trust.

Now, because of Mason, I doubt I’ll ever be able to look Noah in the eye again without wanting to come clean about everything.

The idea of confiding in him makes me sick to my stomach.

He is thoughtful, sweet, and incredibly understanding, but I doubteven he would be able to wrap his head around this.

Especially when he offered me an out, and I refused it.

You could’ve let him help you pay off the debt. He was willing, and sure it would’ve taken longer, but he could’ve done it.

I hadn’t wanted that to hang over our heads.

Staying with Noah and building a life with him shouldn’t start with that kind of commitment.

I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself knowing how hard he’d pushed himself for my dad.

Yeah, you’re right. This is the much better alternative, isn’t it? Why can’t you just admit it? You didn’t accept Noah’s help for the same reason you hadn’t moved in with him yet. Deep down inside, you wondered if there was more to life, and until Mason came along, you didn’t think it was okay to want it.

Goddamn Mason Payne, his stupid club, his contract, his stormy eyes, and his large, capable hands.

Why can’t I just push it all down and focus on the job?