The Separation Situation: Sequel to The Renovation Complication

43. The Revelation Complication

Tori

I don't think any amount of planning, or reassurance, or writing scripts in your head can ever actually prepare you for confrontation. And I had no preparation. So, when I see Mason standing in my room, like it's normal (which it should be), like he's the one who's done something wrong, my body fails me.

There's no air in the room, just guilt. And it's choking me.

"I've been waiting for you to get back." He says timidly, mistaking my horror for irritation. Can he see it? Are his eyes like a UV light at a crime scene, scouring over my trashed corpse for evidence? Bright blue should be bright purple.

I feel like a criminal.

"I missed you." His hair glimmers golden in the hue of the Christmas lights that he, himself, stringed up in another universe. His eye has healed up. I want to tell him that I missed him, too, and that I miss him now, and I just need him to stroke my hair and tell me that everything's going to be okay. But I can't speak.

"I just wanted to say," He sighs, and rubs his jaw. There's almost a sprinkling of stubble there, which I know he doesn't usually like. He must be feeling pretty crappy. I did this to him.

What will happen when he finds out? When he finds out? He won't find out, I'll tell him, surely. I can tell him, just as soon as I get my voice back.

"That..." He trails off for a second and I see him swallow. "That I'm sorry, Vic. I'm sorry for everything."

Did Mason Donovan just apologise to me? Oh, if only you knew which one of us was the criminal, Mason. If only you knew that not twelve hours ago there were another boy's lips on mine, a boy who I don't even like.

"You know how hard that is for me to say." He looks hopeful. He looks fricken hopeful, like his apology mends everything, but in way, it makes everything so much worse. So what, he called me a child? I am a child. I'm selfish and idiotic and stubborn and I don't see the bigger picture. I follow wherever my stupid heart takes me, rolling on some prepubescent illusion of perfection.

So why the hell did I kiss Liam?
"I thought that we could talk," Which means, please say something, Tori, but I can't even look at him without nearly bursting into tears. "And have a Spongebob marathon, with ice cream." He laughs sadly, like he's trying the best he can but thinks it's not enough.

He's enough. He's so much enough that I'm going to hell in comparison to his enough-ness. How could I do this to this perfect boy, this boy that I love so much? I don't understand what would ever possess me to betray him in any way, but it did, and it's driving me insane.

"Vic, you can do whatever you want, okay? If you want to come to Georgia State, do it. I'm not here to tell you how to live your life, and I'll support you no matter what. I love you. I love you so much it's stupid." His speech seems a world away.

The dam finally bursts and rivers are flowing down my face in an instant. What kind of a sorry excuse for a human being am I?

And this beautiful boy thinks that he's the one who's made me cry, which is true, but in an endlessly different way to what he thinks. "Don't cry." He begs, and begins to make his way to my side of the room. Forever afraid of my tears, because he doesn't want to see me get hurt. Every step he takes closer is killing me, because he has no idea what I've done and it's eating me from the inside out.

I love you, I want to say.

"I kissed Liam." I whisper croakily, because I haven't really done anything for the past eight hours but run and sleep and cry and scream. I hadn't imagined that I'd have to talk so soon after the world dissolved.

The worst part is, that he actually doesn't hear me, and he doesn't react the way he's supposed to. He's meant to shout at me and shatter my heart, but he doesn't know even after I say it because I'm too much of a goddamn coward to just project my voice.

"What?" He asks tenderly, and it's so much worse than his fury.

He's getting closer, so I back away a step, and before he can get any closer to me, "I. Kissed. Liam."

It's like someone's hit pause on this horror film. His attempt to comfort me collapses on my floorboards, which he painted. It's like this little home that we made together gets sucked into the abyss, and all the warmth drains out of the room. I am a black hole, ripping away the purity, the happiness, the love.

His eyes glaze over. And when I say glaze over, I really mean freeze over, the way the always have when he's trying to make sense of something horrific. That's how he looked when his dad died. "What?" But we both know that he heard me. Maybe he asks because he wants a different answer, and I hope he realises that I do, too.

But I don't repeat it a third time.

His eyes search mine in a mixture of confusion and fear, like I've just transformed into a monster before his very eyes. I feel like that's exactly what's happened, only it happened last night. His expression turns pained, and he asks quietly, "Who the hell is Liam?"

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Lol, that's my favourite ending.

(To @lanijoy, remember when Hurley's like 'Nikki's dead' and Sawyer just looks at him and is like 'Who the hell is Nikki?'? Just imagine Mason with Sawyers sad, confused expression)