Mason was wrong when he thought the situation he's in right now couldn't get any more awkward than it is.

Right after he had thought that Eleanor Dayley, his mother, who was once one of the brightest people Mason had ever known in his life, had started crying.

She looks like a stranger.

Neither of them has spoken ever since she stepped inside the house, leaving Mason to yet again wonder what it is that she wants from him after all these years. With his hands tucked in between his thighs, he watches her little sniffles turn into severe sobs that make his own chest feel tight.

Mason doesn't know if his mother looks this unfamiliar because it's been years since he last saw her, or if there's something that's truly changed about her. There's defeat in her posture and exhaustion in her eyes, shoulders that used to be backed when she sat with her chin up now frail and shaking.

It hadn't escaped Mason's notice that the only thing that hasn't changed about her is the way she dresses. The painfully familiar flowery, yellow dress she's wearing makes Mason's heart ache.

He had always wondered what his own reaction would be like if he ever saw her again. Would he yell? Scream at her? Throw all of his pent-up anger at her? Tell her how betrayed he felt when she gave up on him? He doesn't know. Because all he can think about right now is that the woman sitting in front of his mother; the woman who birthed him. The woman who he had been the closest to growing up.

And right now, he has no idea what to say to her.

Glancing behind her to make sure Gwen is still in the kitchen, pretending to be immersed in something, he feels a little relieved. He knows she isn't sitting with them because she wants to give them some space, but still around in case something goes wrong.

Unable to make a decision between whether he wants to laugh or cry at the situation, he feels borderline hysteric.

There he was just a few hours ago, pacing endlessly in his room and trying to ready himself for two situations that made him exceedingly nervous. Situations that he wasn't ready to put himself in. And now, as if his life is a big fat joke, he sits in front of his crying, heaving mother, clueless about what to do when the doorbell rings.

Mason wants to smack himself. Pull his hair right out of his scalp. But all he does is hold a hand up in the direction of a wide-eyed Gwen who had just been about to get the door and stands up.

Her eyes continue to widen as he gets closer and closer to the door, opening it to reveal the person who should have been standing there the first time he opened the door.

Ayaan has flowers in his hands and an endearing smile on his face and Mason is devastated.

"I'm sorry I'm a little late," Ayaan apologizes sincerely, and Mason wants to tell him that it doesn't matter because it's not even fifteen minutes. He wants to tell Ayaan that even if he had come the next day, Mason would have still waited.

He's seeing Ayaan in something other than his business suits for the second time since he's met him, and he hates that he doesn't have it in himself to completely appreciate it. Hates that Ayaan stands in front of him in his black button-up shirt and beige slacks to match, looking like a dream, and Mason has nothing to say.

Licking his lips, he doesn't know if his voice is audible when he says, "My mother... is sitting in the living room right now."

Ayaan's eyes widen, and it is then that he realizes how ashen Mason looks. But even though he's a little confused because he knows Mason hasn't been in touch with his mother in years, he doesn't ask any questions. Instead, he takes a step further, reaches out to take Mason's hand in his own, and places the bundle of sunflowers in his hand before closing his fingers around them.

He looks up at Mason's face, noticing his eyes on their hands and in the softest voice he can manage, asks, "Are you okay?"

Mason's hand shakes on the doorknob he's still holding. "Really confused is more like it."

Seeing the stress written all over his face, Ayaan swallows and takes another step further, standing close enough to whisper.

"Do you want me to come in?"

Mason stays silent, but his eyes snap up to meet Ayaan's.

He's serious.

"If you told me to leave right now, I will," Ayaan continues, eyes soft. "And I'll come back tomorrow. With more flowers. And we'll go on that date we were supposed to be on right now."

Mason's throat tightens. Stepping back half out of surprise and half to give Ayaan the space to come inside, he takes his hand off the knob and holds it in front of him.

When Ayaan takes it, Mason finally speaks again. "I'm not sure what she's here for."

Ayaan nods, looking at him knowingly.

"And although i really don't want you to be around in case she starts yelling homophobic bullshit at me, I feel like I'm going to be calmer if you're... if you're here."

Ayaan nods again, giving Mason's hand a gentle squeeze.

Mason lets out a shaky chuckle. "Are you going to say something."

"I got you."

Mouth parting in surprise, Mason quickly looks away in an attempt to hide how much the little sentence affected him. Silently stepping back and bringing Ayaan further inside with him, he closes the door with a push of his elbow, head down.

"Are you sure about this?"

Ayaan doesn't like how small Mason's voice sounds.

"I am," he replies. He isn't. He's fucking terrified.

Mason shakes his head to himself, yet again amazed by how things keep turning out between them. If he thought their meeting didn't happen... in the most conventional way, what can he say about what's happening right now? Ayaan is going to meet his mother.

The same mother Mason hasn't seen in years.

And to think they haven't been out on a single date.

"In case things don't turn out well and she screams at us about how we're going to hell," Ayaan says, voice light, "I'll just take it as a lesson about what to expect when my parents finally find out."

Mason breathes out a chuckle.

"Sure does put me to ease knowing our sense of humor is equally messed up."

-

His mother doesn't do any of it.

The insults, the sneers, the disgusted looks.

None of what they had expected

Instead, Mason is standing deathly still with his hand still in Ayaan's as she looks up at them, eyes shining with new tears and trembling lips lifting into a little smile.

"Ayaan..." Mason starts, eyes unable to meet his mother's, "is going to join us. I hope you don't mind."

When he's finally seated again, Gwen to his left and Ayaan to his right, he waits for her to speak.

"I came here... to apologize," she starts, voice thick with emotion. "But I didn't come here expecting you to forgive me." Mason sees her draw in a shaky breath. "I-I was..." Her face crumples and she shakes her head before burying her face in her hands. "I was a monster. I don't... I won't expect you to forgive me."

When she begins to cry again, Mason feels himself breaking. Almost. He watches Gwen pass his mother a tissue that she takes with a trembling hand, taking in a breath before speaking.

"You..." Mason swallows thickly, unable to find it in himself to call his father 'dad'. "You left him?"

She nods, wiping her eyes with the now crumpled tissue before clasping it between her hands so hard, her knuckles strain with the effort.

"It took me so long to... too long to realize..." Drawing in another breath, she tries to compose herself. "It was too late before I finally realized what I had done. I..." She looks at Mason and the devastation is so clear on her face, he has to look away.

His eyes burn with tears, but he refuses to cry. He won't. He's cried enough.

Ayaan's hand meets his again, and at his warm hold, a hint of ease rushes through him. He presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth and wills the tears away.

"I couldn't even look at him," she whimpers. "After you... not seeing you in the house... how could I do that? How did I let myself think anything in the world was more important to me than my own son?"

Mason clutches Ayaan's hand like his life depends on it.

"It took me a bit to finally will myself to leave him," she murmurs, closing her eyes. A tear trails down the corner of her eye and reaches her jaw before she wipes it away with the back of her hand. "And after we got divorced, I joined a support group."

She looks up at Mason and tries to smile. "It helped, you know? Being around people who were trying to learn."

He listens to her talk about it all, the people she's become friends with through the support group, and how it has affected her thoughts.

Mason's mouth parts in surprise when she tells him she switched churches.

With every word that leaves her mouth, Mason feels the knot in his chest slowly begin to dissolve. She talks about where she's been living, how she got back into painting after decades and put her for it into use after getting hired as an art teacher.

Mason remembers how much his mother had loved art when he was young. He'd thought her love for it had slowly diminished, but now that he thinks about it, maybe she... grew tired of trying and failing to make time for it.

"A year after I started working at the academy... I met someone there." There's a faint sparkle in her eye now that doesn't go past Mason. "His name is Arthur."

She looks down, shaking her head. "It... wasn't part of my plan to fall in love after getting out of a marriage that lasted thirty years." When she looks back up at Mason, he can't find it in himself to keep an emotionless face. The lines at the corners of her tired eyes will him to give her an encouraging smile. It's little, but it's there.

And it's enough to make fresh tears appear in her eyes.

"A few months ago, I met his daughter," she continues, the tremble in her voice returning as she looks away. "And her wife."

Mason knows he isn't the only one who goes completely still at the information.

"Seeing the three of them, it-" She cuts herself off, wringing her hands together in front of her. "It was yet another painful reminder of what it could have been like... with my family." Mason swallows the lump in his throat, watching her shake her head. "But I think... I think talking to your father about this has always been out of the question."

"Why didn't you reach out before?"

Mason doesn't know where it comes from. But he needs to know. He needs to know how long it's been since she started to regret what she did. Needs to know she felt at least a sliver of the pain he did.

Ayaan rubs the back of his hand in circles almost absentmindedly, distracting Mason enough to stay sane.

In the smallest voice Mason has ever heard his mother speak in, she replies, "Because I was ashamed."

Their conversation doesn't go on long from there. Mason is still a little stiff, the hesitance clear in his expression even as he nods and replies to everything she says.

But he's trying.

And when she finally stands up to leave, smiling one last smile at Mason and then Ayaan, he feels something in his subconscious shift. He watches her reach out to take Gwen's hands between her own, her smile as watery as her eyes as she whispers, "Thank you."

Mason stands up but his feet refuse to move when he wonders if he should see her to the door. His eyes follow her as she disappears from his sight, Gwen in tow.

"That... really just happened?"

"It did." Ayaan searches his face, a concerned look on his own. "How are you feeling?"

Blinking, Mason tilts his head. "A little... out of it."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I could..." Mason swallows, out of all times, now feeling his eyes water. "I could really use a hug."

If Ayaan is a little taken aback by the request, he doesn't show it. Instead, he lets go of his hand and reaches out to wrap Mason's lean self in an embrace.

Mason breathes out a shaky breath just as his chin touches Ayaan's shoulder and he feels a hand settle on the small of his back. Another hand touches the back of his head and comes down in a caress, stopping at the nape of his neck.

It takes Mason a bit to start breathing properly again once the mild hysteria wears off, and the first thing he says is, "Sorry about the date."

Ayaan clicks his tongue. "Don't worry about it."

"Could we... still go?"

Hand stopping in between locks of Mason's hair, Ayaan pulls back to look at his face. "Do you want to?"

Mason nods, hazel eyes earnest.

Ayaan smiles, before realizing how close they are.

Taking his hands off Mason and stepping back at breakneck speed, he turns his head away and clears his throat. "Okay."

For the first time, he's thankful his skin isn't pale like the boy in front of him, who currently looks like he's trying to bite back a smile.

Because if it was, Ayaan's face would have been burning red.