CHAPTER 82MASONI couldn’t sit in that locker room any longer. Couldn’t breathe knowing Tyler was somewhere out there, unraveling, while I sat like a coward.So I found him.He was outside, hunched on a bench near the far edge of the retreat grounds, hoodie pulled up like armor, fingers tangled in his hair. For a moment, I just watched him—because even broken, he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.“Tyler,” I said softly.His head shot up. His eyes were red, raw, and the sight punched me right in the chest. “What are you doing here?” he muttered.“Looking for you.” I shoved my hands in my pockets so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Always looking for you.”He scoffed, but it cracked halfway through. “Don’t, Mason. Don’t say things like that.”I sat beside him anyway. Close enough that our knees brushed. “You think I can just stop?”His throat worked. He stared at the ground, voice low and jagged. “I don’t know how to fight him. My dad. I can’t breathe without hearing his voice
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