Elise's POV
The glow of the computer screen was the only light left in my office when my phone buzzed. Carter's name lit up on the display.
I hesitated before answering, already knowing what he would ask.
"Hey," his deep, warm voice came through, calm and familiar. "Are you off work yet? I can swing by and pick you up."
I forced a smile even though he couldn't see it. "Not yet. There are still some papers I need to finish. It might take a while."
There was a short pause, the sound of quiet rustling in the background. "You always overwork yourself," he said gently. "At least let me keep you company."
"I'll be fine," I replied quickly. "Promise. It's just end-of-term files and some reports for Mr. Jones. I'll call you when I'm done, okay?"
"Alright," he said finally, though his tone was reluctant. "Don't stay too late, love."
"I won't."
When the line went dead, I exhaled slowly. The lie hung heavy in the silence.
Hours passed before I realized the world outside my window had gone dark. The reflection of my own tired face in the glass stared back at me, pale under the harsh office light. I looked at the clock — 6:47 p.m.
"God," I whispered, rubbing my neck.
I began packing my things, slipping folders into my bag, organizing a small stack of papers before shutting down the computer. The hum of the air conditioner filled the stillness — until the door opened quietly behind me.
I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"Mason," I said softly, keeping my eyes on the desk. "It's late. You should be home already."
For a moment, there was only silence. Then I felt the faint tremor in the air before his arms slipped around me from behind. His hold was gentle but desperate, his head resting against my shoulder. His breath touched my neck — uneven, heavy, like it carried the weight of something unspoken.
My hands froze on the papers. "Mason…"
"I needed to see you," he murmured, voice low.
I turned slowly, freeing myself just enough to face him. His eyes looked different tonight — dark, a little lost.
"What's wrong?" I asked softly. "You look… sad."
He didn't answer right away. "Can we sit?" he finally said.
I nodded and motioned to the couch. He dropped heavily onto it, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped. I sat beside him, watching his fingers tighten and loosen, like he was fighting himself.
"I need to take a leave," he said after a moment.
I blinked. "A leave?"
He nodded. "Two weeks. My uncle in Japan—he had an accident. My mom wants us all to go see him."
"Oh, Mason…" My voice softened. "I'm so sorry. Is he going to be alright?"
"We don't know yet," he replied quietly. "They said it's bad. I just found out after class."
My heart sank. "That's awful."
He leaned back, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Yeah. It is."
I looked away, trying to steady myself. If only he knew that his absence would coincide with my last day here at Silver Lake—that by the time he returned, I'd already be gone. Maybe it was better this way. A clean break for both of us.
I forced a small smile and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry, everything will be alright."
He nodded slowly, watching me. Then he sighed — and the sound came out heavier than I expected.
"I'll only be gone for two weeks," he said quietly. "But before I go, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," I said, bracing myself.
He met my gaze. "Spend tomorrow with me."
It wasn't quite a plea, but close. "All day," he added.
I hesitated. "Mason, I—"
"Please."
His voice cracked just slightly on the word, and I froze. The raw sincerity in his tone pulled at something deep in me I didn't want to feel anymore.
"Mason, I don't even know where we could go," I said softly, searching for reason. "We can't go to my apartment. And we can't be here either…"
He laughed faintly under his breath. "I already thought about that. I know a place. Somewhere quiet, no one ever goes there."
I shook my head slowly. "Carter will notice if I—"
"You don't need to explain anything to him," Mason interrupted, almost too quickly. "We can just… disappear for a day. No one has to know."
The suggestion made anxiety coil in my chest, but for reasons I didn't admit even to myself.
"Mason," I said gently, "I can't do that. I won't lie to him. He already does so much for me. I can't add another secret to this."
He didn't answer, just looked down, jaw tightening.
I placed my hand lightly over his, trying to calm him. "Let me handle it, okay? I'll tell Carter that I have school paperwork to finish, or something to deliver downtown. You don't have to worry about him."
He stared for a moment longer, then exhaled and nodded. "Alright. Tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow," I echoed softly.
We sat there for a while in the quiet hum of the room, both of us knowing—though neither said it—that tomorrow would be our last day together.
When he finally stood, he looked calmer, though his eyes still carried that faint, solemn weight.
"Thank you," he murmured.
And as he left the office, I felt the guilt settling even deeper. Because the truth wasn't just that I'd lied to Carter.
It was that I was willing to do it again.