That was something.
***
Vic
Vic wasn’t looking for a heart-to-heart.
He’d gone to the Rebel Wayfarers’ clubhouse looking for Chase—something about helping tune a bike engine, a distraction from the ache in his chest.But Chase wasn’t around.
Mason was.
The big man sat at the main room nursing a beer, and when he saw Vic, he simply nodded toward the stool beside him.
“Rough day?”Mason asked.
Vic sat.He hadn’t planned on talking, but something about the older man’s quiet presence made the words come anyway.
He told Mason about the voicemail.About pouring his heart out to a dead man for over an hour.About Bonnie.About how he’d laid his heart on the line and she’d shut the door in his face.About how much he loved her anyway.About how scared he was that he was turning into his father—chasing something that would only burn him in the end.
Mason listened without interrupting, just nodding occasionally, his attentiveness was solid and steady.
When Vic finally ran out of words, Mason clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Love ain’t easy, son.Especially when you’ve seen what bad love looks like.But from what I’ve seen, that girl’s got fight in her.And you do too.Sometimes the best thing you can do is stand still and let her come to you when she’s ready.”
Vic let out a long breath.
On the next inhale, the knot in his chest loosened just a little.
“Thanks, Mason.”
The older man just nodded.“Anytime.Door’s always open.”
Vic left the clubhouse feeling lighter.
He still hurt.
But after talking to Mason, he didn’t feel quite so alone with it.
