My Boyfriend Took My Best Friend Home for Thanksgiving Chapter 06

My Boyfriend Took My Best Friend Home for Thanksgiving Chapter 06

The message was only three words. It was clean and final, without even an exclamation point.

Mason stared at the screen for a full ten seconds before his whole body went rigid.

He shot to his feet so fast that the chair crashed backward onto the floor.

“Mason? What’s wrong?”

Tessa leaned out from the kitchen with a plate of fruit in her hands.

All the color had drained from Mason’s face.

His lips moved, but no words came out.

He grabbed his coat and headed straight for the door.

“Mason! Mason, where are you going? We still have the big family dinner tonight!”

Tessa rushed after him and grabbed his sleeve.

Mason jerked his arm free so hard that she stumbled backward and hit the doorframe.

“I have something I need to take care of.”

He didn’t look back.

He rushed out despite his injured leg, limping badly as he went.

Tessa stood frozen in the doorway, watching him disappear.

A flicker of panic crossed her face.

She pulled out her phone and called him.

He hung up after one ring.

When she tried again, his phone was already off.

Mason booked the earliest train he could get to my hometown.

He paced the station waiting area, his injured leg hurting badly enough to leave cold sweat

across his forehead, but he barely seerned to notice.

Only one thought filled his head: Hannah was leaving him.

After seven years together, she was throwing it all away with a single message.

He had to find her.

He had to make her take it back.

On the train, he sent me more than a dozen messages.

I didn’t answer a single one.

He called.

I hung up after two rings.

When he tried again, the call wouldn’t go through.

I had blocked him.

Mason slammed his phone onto the seat, dragged both hands through his hair, and muttered a

curse under his breath.

By the time the train arrived, it was already evening.

Mason limped out of the station, caught a cab, and headed straight to my house.

My mother answered the door.

She stood in the doorway, took one look at his exhausted, pale face, and made no move to let

him inside.

“Mrs. Pierce, I’m here to see Hannah.”

Mason was breathing hard, his voice rough.

Mom looked him over and gave him a thin smile.

“Mason, Hannah isn’t home.”

“Where did she go?” he asked immediately.

“She went out for something to eat,” Mom said calmly.

“She’s out having coffee with Mrs. Bennett’s nephew.”

The color drained from Mason’s face all over again.

“Mrs. Pierce, Hannah and I aren’t broken up.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” Mom cut in

Her voice remained calm, but there was no warmth in it.

“Hannah has always been the kind of person who gives everything she has once she commits to someone. I’m her mother. I’ve watched how much she’s given you, and it’s hurt me to see

it.”

“You know perfectly well how you’ve behaved in my home over the years.”

“My daughter doesn’t owe you anything. Go.”

Mason stood there, suddenly cold all over.

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Mom had already shut the door.

At Willow & Finch Café, I was sitting in a second-floor booth by the window, talking to the

man across from me.

His name was Adrian Keller.

He was Mrs. Bennett’s nephew, three years older than me, and worked as an architectural designer in the state capital.

He was clean-cut, calm, and easy to talk to, with the kind of relaxed smile that immediately put

people at ease.

Then I thought about it.

Mason and I were over.

There was no reason to keep myself stuck in the same place.

So I came.

If nothing else, getting out for a while couldn’t hurt.

To my surprise, the conversation was much more enjoyable than I had expected.

Adrian refilled my tea and smiled.

“Hannah, you’re not quite how my aunt described you.”

“How did she describe me?”

I took a sip of tea.

“She said you’re incredibly thoughtful. The kind of person who’s always thinking about

everyone else.”

Adrian regarded me warmly.

“But from where I’m sitting, I think you spend a little too much time thinking about everyone

else.”

I blinked, then laughed softly.

He read people well.

We were still talking when hurried footsteps sounded near the stairs.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure rush up, limping badly as he searched the

café.

Then he spotted me.

He came straight toward us.

It was Mason.

He stopped beside our table, breathing hard, sweat covering his forehead.

He didn’t even glance at Adrian.

Instead, he reached for my wrist.

“Hannah, come outside with me. We need to talk.”