**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**
**Chapter 120: When Did It Start?**
“Well, it seems I have no other option. The only person I can share a drink with here is Mason,” Amelia mused to herself, a hint of disbelief lacing her thoughts.
At first glance, it felt as though Tim was orchestrating this uncomfortable moment on purpose, but Amelia quickly dismissed that notion. What could she possibly do in this situation?
Turn on her heel and walk away?
That would only amplify the awkwardness and cast her in a guilty light.
With a deep inhale, she attempted to quell the anxiety bubbling in her chest. She took a few measured steps toward Mason, the distance between them feeling like a chasm, and forced out a couple of dry words, “Mr. Everett.”
Mason, however, was clearly not convinced by her attempt at formality.
His long fingers traced the rim of his glass with a casual elegance, and he raised a single eyebrow, emitting a nonchalant, “Hmm?”
Those sharp, penetrating eyes of his seemed to silently challenge her, as if asking, “Have you forgotten what I said?”
Feeling a rush of heat to her cheeks, Amelia bit her lower lip, correcting herself with a voice so soft it could be mistaken for a whisper, “Mason.”
The way she hesitated in addressing him sent a shiver down her spine, transporting her back to that dimly lit night from years ago, a memory that felt both distant and achingly close.
Back then, she was just a college student, eager and wide-eyed. To celebrate her roommate’s birthday, she and her friends had snuck into a bar for the very first time. Clutching a vibrant, fruity cocktail, she had been curiously scanning the room when Mason had appeared, as if he were a deity descending from the heavens. At that moment, he was the center of attention, being flirted with by a stunning woman, yet his expression remained as stoic as ever. But when his gaze swept across the room and locked onto her—hiding in the corner like a startled rabbit—his handsome features hardened instantly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he had pushed away the cocktail the woman offered him, the action drawing the attention of everyone present. He strode toward her with a commanding presence, like a cold wind cutting through the warm air.
Amelia had felt sheer terror wash over her. She had lowered her head, wishing she could simply vanish into the floor, desperately pretending she didn’t recognize him.
But he had come straight to her, grasping the back of her hoodie without so much as a word of explanation. His voice had been cold and deep, slicing through the noise around them, “Why are you running away? Are you pretending not to know me?”
Now, standing before him again, the scene felt eerily reminiscent.
Hearing her long-delayed “Mason,” his tense expression softened just a fraction.
He nodded, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face, before shifting his gaze toward Tim.
“So, this so-called nighttime entertainment,” he began slowly, his tone laced with a hint of challenge, “was bringing Amelia here to drink?”


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