57

57

Mason's POV

The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it didn't dull the ache in my chest. Every day, Bethany slipped further away from me, and every day, I felt my grip on her loosening. It wasn't just Adrian—though his constant hovering grated on my nerves—it was Bethany herself. The way she looked at me now, her eyes full of disdain, as if I was nothing more than a mistake she regretted making and if she could go back in time, she never would have chosen me.

I slammed the glass down on my desk, the sound reverberating through the empty office. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. She was mine. She always had been, whether she realized it or not.

But Adrian had wormed his way into her life, into her thoughts. And Bethany? She was letting him. I could see it in the way she smiled at him, in the way she leaned into his words as if he were her savior. It made my blood boil.