What had seemed like Mason's unbreakable bubble of contentment is pricked by none other than Gwen when he wakes up the next day and steps into the living room to find her sitting there with a somber expression on her face, without her coffee mug in her hand, that only adds to the immediate nervousness that Mason feels himself overflowing with.

"Why do you look like you're about to break my heart?" he asks, trying to lighten the suffocating seriousness in the room.

Gwen passes him a little smile, shaking her head. "It's nothing like that. I do need to talk to you about something, though so could you please come sit with me for a minute after you're done making your tea?"

He nods, making a failed attempt at squashing the anxiety his brain begins to bubble with. He's not used to Gwen looking this serious this early in the morning. He'd woken up with a silly smile on his face, remembering how long he'd talked to Ayaan the night before.

They'd only stopped when Ayaan had fallen asleep on the other end while listening to Mason talk about something he doesn't even remember anymore when he thinks about how tired the other man must have been, to fall asleep mid-conversation.

Doesn't help that Mason has an image of Ayaan inside his head where he's just lying in bed with his phone left under his cheek, eyes barely open as he tries to focus on what Mason is saying, and Mason almost melts, reminded that Ayaan had told him he just wanted to hear Mason's voice.

But now that upward quirk to the corners of his lips is replaced with his bottom lip pressed between his teeth as he confusedly makes himself his usual honey tea before walking over and sitting beside Gwen.

She's sitting beside him with her legs crossed, chin resting on her palm as she looks up at him and smiles again.

"I'm not... trying to kill your mood or anything and you can totally tell me if I'm overstepping with this conversation, yeah?" she says softly, and Mason only settles with a quick nod. "Although... seems like it's already too late with the killing your mood thing... you looked happy when you stepped out."

Mason shakes his head, serious. "It's okay, go ahead."

Gwen sighs, dropping her hand and nervously playing with the silver ring on her thumb. "You... you've been getting a lot of calls from your mother?"

The mere mention of the woman makes Mason flinch inwardly.

"I'm saying it again, Mase, if you don't want to talk about this, please feel free to stop me," she adds quickly. "But I feel like this conversation has been long overdue. Especially since I... I..." Her voice fades a little, and she looks away. Index finger coming down to trace shapeless figures on the couch, she continues. "...Have you considered hearing her out once?"

Mason keeps the mug of his tea down on the table in front of him because his hands are shaking. Gwen presses her lips together, looking concerned. She waits for him to reply to her question.

Finally settling with a worn-out sigh, he says, "I haven't."

She nods, and they're both silent for a bit after that. Mason stares at nothing, while Gwen tries to come up with a better way to approach the conversation she wants to have with him. Finally, after glancing at his face once, she speaks again.

"I spoke to her last night." Mason's expression falls, and he feels oddly betrayed. Gwen senses it right away because she rushes to explain. "She didn't call from her usual number so I picked it up without knowing who it was." Reaching out to tug at Mason's sleeve, Gwen places her cheek on her knee. "With the way she sounded, I couldn't hang up on her, Mase. I'm sorry. But she..." Mason looks at her, hazel eyes hinting at the fact that he's clearly upset at her. "...your parents split up."

Mouth parting in surprise, he doesn't even know what to say.

There are so many questions in his mind. So many. But the one that seems to stand above them all is, 'Was it because of me?'

"It happened around three years ago," Gwen explains, letting go of his sleeve now that she thinks he won't just get up and leave. "She left him."

Mason wants to ask her what it was that went wrong between them. What was it that finally broke them apart? What was it, if her own son didn't seem like enough of a reason back then?

"She misses you like hell, Mase," Gwen continues, voice watery. Mason feels his own throat tighten with emotion, but he refuses to look at her. He knows if he looked at Gwen right now, he'd cry. And he's done crying because of the woman who birthed him. "I know it's not fair how she treated you. And I'm in no place to tell you what to do. But please, just..." Her voice cracks and she sniffles, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling and letting out a curse, followed by an annoyed mutter of, "What the hell, I wasn't supposed to cry. Give me a moment." She holds her perfectly manicured finger in front of him, still cursing to herself about how 'sensitive' she's become.

"Why does she want to talk to me?" Mason asks lowly, almost as if talking to himself. "Why now?"

Gwen shrugs weakly. "She didn't tell me the reason and I honestly don't see why she would. She just... wanted to speak with you."

Mason takes in a shaky breath, hating the little light that's beginning to illuminate the entirety of his mind, the hope that his mother might have finally, finally reflected on her misconstrued beliefs. He hates himself for hoping. Expecting. All these years away from his parents, he's tried to teach himself to never expect anything from anyone. Especially them. His parents.

Well, not his father.

Mason scoffs at the thought of his father ever understanding him.

"Gwen?"

She looks at him expectantly.

"Do you... think I should do this? Talk to her, I mean."

She looks baffled. "You... you're asking me if you should... talk to your mother?"

He nods.

Blinking, she points at herself in question.

Mason looks completely serious when he replies, "I'm appalled that you don't know if you told me that we could walk on the ceiling of this room right now, I would try it. Do you have any idea how much I trust your opinion?"

"I-"

"Just tell me if you think I should do this because I don't trust my own emotions on this."

Gwen opens her mouth, then closes it. Glancing at him, and then back down at her lap, she says, "I... Yeah, I think you should hear her out."

Mason leans back on the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a loud groan.

"What now?" Gwen cries, throwing her hands in the air.

"I don't know, okay? I was counting on you saying no or something. I don't know," he repeats. Gwen shoots him a look of disbelief while he cards his fingers through the mess that his hair is. "God, I'm so..."

"Why the hell would I tell you to not talk to her when I literally brought this conversation up in the first place?"

"I don't know."

"Is there all you can think of saying, Mase? Really?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Shit, this is a bad idea. This is a bad, bad idea."

"Look, I don't blame you for being suspicious but she sounded sincere."

"This is a bad idea," he repeats, still shaking his head.

"Mase-"

"But I'm going to talk to her. Because you said I should."

Gwen's mouth drops open. "Hey, now-"

"I'm listening to you because I believe in your opinion but if this goes wrong, you're going to have me ugly crying in front of you all week."

"Kid, I swear to God-"

"Nope. Don't take it back. You said I should do it."

"Stop interrup-"

"Doing it. I'm doing it."

She throws her hands in the air again and lets them exasperatedly fall on her face. "Jesus Christ."