Chapter 33: Chapter 33

JAMIE

Mason was perched behind his desk, his face a mask of indifference. It was as if all the affection he had for me had evaporated overnight. He was waiting for me to justify my actions, to explain what had transpired with Adam.

But given the fury in his eyes, I doubted he would believe a word I said. His gaze was icy, distant, as if he was already grieving the end of our relationship. It felt like he had made up his mind that our love was beyond repair.

That no matter what I said, it wouldn’t change his perspective because the evidence was right there, staring him in the face. I inhaled deeply, bracing myself for his reaction.

“I can explain,” I started, my voice quivering slightly. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Isn’t it?” he retorted, his tone harsh. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you were locking lips with him.”

His voice was frigid, laced with a bitterness I had never heard before. My heart plummeted, my chances of convincing him dwindling. He swiveled his chair to face me.

“Explain,” he demanded.

“Adam tried to kiss me, Mason,” I began shakily. “I didn’t reciprocate. I pushed him away. That’s the truth. I know the picture paints a different story, but I’m telling you the truth.”

“You’re right, the picture tells a different story,” Mason retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He glanced at the laptop screen one more time before slamming it shut in frustration.

“Why was he even here last night, Jamie? He had no business being in our home at that hour.”

It wasn’t late. It was around nine o’clock. I felt like he was trying to use everything against me now. But I understood his point. Adam is my physiotherapist; it was technically after hours.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Ever since he tried to kiss me outside the bar, I’ve been avoiding him. I’ve been canceling all my physio sessions so I wouldn’t have to see him.”

“But you let him into our home,” Mason pointed out, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was a mistake.”

“When he showed up at the front gate, I felt guilty. I thought I should hear him out,” I said, crossing my arms defensively. “He believes there’s something between us.”

“And is there?” Mason questioned, suspicion lacing his voice.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Would he believe me?

“No…absolutely not,” I finally managed to say. “I didn’t want that kiss, Mason. I just wanted a friend, someone to talk to, and he was there to listen.”

“He listened to you.” Mason sighed in frustration. “I’ve been here, Jamie. I’ve been here for you all along. Why did you feel the need to confide in him?”

“I…” I trailed off, staring at my hands in shame. I knew he was right. He’s always been there for me. But sometimes it was easier to talk to someone who wasn’t so entwined in my life.

“I know… I’m sorry.”

Mason’s phone buzzed on his desk, and he leaned forward to check it.

“I have to take this, it’s work.”

“Can we talk later?” I asked.

“I have some things to take care of,” he replied, his attention already on his phone. “You should pick up Penelope, maybe spend some time with her. I’m going to be tied up all day.”

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you later then,” I managed to say, trying to mask my disappointment.

The sensation of being shut out by Mason was something I hadn’t experienced since waking up from my coma. Yet, it felt eerily familiar. Days turned into weeks, and the tension between Mason and me remained.

Our relationship was strained, our time together at home filled with uncomfortable silences and forced interactions. He had stopped coming to bed at night. I often found myself lying awake, mulling over our issues.

I couldn’t comprehend what was going through his mind. Was he questioning my honesty? Or was he punishing me for confiding in Adam instead of him? I didn’t know.

The idea of giving him an ultimatum kept nagging at me. If I told him that I wasn’t lying and asked him to trust me or let me go, both options were terrifying. What if he chose not to trust me? What if he decided to walk away? The thought of life without him was unbearable.

A server set a piping hot cappuccino before me, the foam artfully shaped into a heart. It coaxed a smile from me. The first sip was a sensory delight, the robust scent of coffee beans mingling with chocolate, a soothing warmth spreading within me.

I was so engrossed in my coffee that I didn’t notice Eoin until he was right at my table. His voice jolted me a bit as he called my name. His grin was a sight for sore eyes.

“You off to see Mason?” he queried.

“Well, I was considering it,” I responded, my tone wavering slightly. “What brings you here?” I asked. “Isn’t there a café in your building?”

Eoin laughed lightly. “There is, but the coffee here is superior,” he explained, his gaze sweeping over the bustling café, the tables around us filled to capacity.

“Would you mind if I join you? I don’t have to be back for another hour.”

I nodded, a grin spreading across my face. “Of course,” I said.

Eoin fetched his coffee and a pair of chocolate muffins before returning to our table. We chatted and brainstormed for his upcoming party, savoring our coffees. For a fleeting moment, I felt at ease, my burdens seeming to lighten…

But it was a fleeting moment.

“What’s the deal between you two?” Eoin inquired.

I faltered, the words sticking in my throat. “It’s…complicated,” I managed, taking another sip of my cappuccino. The reality was it wasn’t complicated. Or at least, it didn’t need to be.

Eoin nodded sympathetically. “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain,” he assured me. “I’ve just noticed Mason seems a bit preoccupied lately. He’s practically living in the office.”

I understood what he was implying. It was as if he was deliberately staying late at the office to avoid me. I took a deep breath, readying myself to elaborate.

“Someone sent Mason a photo recently,” I began. “It was a picture of me with my physiotherapist…”

Eoin nodded, his expression intrigued. Then, as he grasped the implications of my words, his eyes widened.

“Oh…that kind of photo?” he asked, shocked and amused.

“Nothing happened…but the photo suggests otherwise. Adam tried to kiss me outside a bar one night, but I pushed him away before he could. I didn’t want to kiss him.”

“And Mason believes you did?” Eoin asked, taking another bite of his muffin, crumbs tumbling onto his plate. “Maybe he just needs more time.”

I shook my head, my heart heavy. “Maybe he’ll never trust me.”

“No, he’ll come around,” Eoin assured me, brushing muffin crumbs from his hands. “He won’t let you go over something like this. He loves you.”

A spark of hope ignited within me. “You really believe that?”

Eoin nodded. “I could talk to him if you want?” he suggested. “Maybe he just needs to vent to someone who isn’t a woman.”

Knowing Mason, he would despise that idea. From what I can tell, he hates discussing his personal life. He’s a private person.

“No, that’s fine. But thank you,” I responded, appreciative of his offer.

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Eoin said, his lips curving into a warm smile.

Eoin and I continued our conversation for another twenty minutes, delving into the specifics of his upcoming party. We agreed that Mason’s family beach house would be the ideal location, but we’d need to get Harry’s approval first.

I don’t recall ever being there, but Eoin mentioned that Mason and I spent a few days there a couple of years ago. It’ll be fun to revisit.

Stepping out of the café, the brisk autumn air wrapped around me. I decided that confronting Mason at this moment might not be the best idea. Instead, I headed toward Ezra’s car parked near the entrance.

Ezra greeted me with a warm smile. “Did you enjoy your lunch?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” I responded, returning his smile. I handed him a to-go coffee cup and a brown bag filled with assorted pastries. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a few different ones,” I explained.

Ezra’s lips curved into a warm smile. “You’re too kind,” he said, his voice brimming with gratitude.

“Thanks,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips. There was a certain joy in knowing I’d brightened someone’s day.

I realized that my generosity was something I’d picked up from my mom. The thought of Ezra going hungry while I enjoyed a meal in a café was unbearable. I suggested he take a break while I ate, but ever the dedicated worker, Ezra stayed by the car.

Just as I was about to get into the car, something across the street caught my eye. My heart pounded in my chest, a wave of fear washing over me. I froze, the hairs on my arms standing on end.

It was Jack!

A car whizzed by, momentarily obstructing my view. When it passed, he was gone.

“Are you okay, miss?” Ezra asked.

I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. The sighting had left me rattled, a sense of unease settling over me. I’d seen that face a thousand times, but only in my nightmares.

As Ezra pulled away from the curb, I found myself glancing back at the spot, despite the fear of seeing him again. ~My mind must be playing tricks on me.~

Later that evening, while I was wrapping up dinner in the kitchen, I heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. The footsteps that followed were unmistakably Mason’s, accompanied by the low murmur of his voice. He was likely on a phone call.

Mason walked into the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. He shot me a neutral glance before heading to the dining room to finish his call. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop, though I couldn’t make out much. But I could tell it wasn’t a business call.

When he finally ended the call, Mason let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly. He set his phone on the counter, avoiding my gaze.

I hesitated, unsure if I should ask if something was wrong. We weren’t exactly on speaking terms. But then I reminded myself that I had nothing to lose.

Gathering my courage, I asked, “Is everything okay?”

Mason looked at me, letting out a sigh. “I just got a call from Eoin,” he said, barely audible. “His father is dead.”

I stopped what I was doing, the room falling silent. I don’t remember ever meeting Eoin’s father, but from what I understand, it’s been years since Mason and Harry have seen him too.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “Did he say what happened?”

I assumed it must’ve been sudden, since Eoin had never mentioned his father being ill in our previous conversations.

“He had a heart attack,” Mason replied, his voice heavy with grief. “Eoin’s mother called him a while ago. She was a wreck. He’s going home, to be with her now.” He walked over to the cabinet, pulling out his usual bottle of scotch and his favorite glass.

“That’s so sad,” I said. “I hope he’s okay.” I paused, considering the situation. “If you want to go be with them, I understand. I can handle things at home.”

Mason shook his head. “No,” he said. “We’ll see them at the funeral in a few days. I’ll call in the morning to see if they need anything.”

I nodded, noticing that he seemed a bit tense. As I returned to dinner, Mason stood at the counter, pouring himself a scotch.

“Eoin’s father is your mother’s brother, right?” I asked.

“Yes, his name is William,” Mason replied, taking a sip of his scotch. “I haven’t seen them since my mother’s funeral, if I remember correctly. My father and Will don’t get along, so they’ve kept their distance.”

“Oh, why’s that?” I asked.

Mason shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It’s always been a bit tense,” he said. “I didn’t notice when I was young, but as I got older, it became more apparent.”

It was clear that the rift between the two men was complicated, and Mason didn’t seem to know much about it.

“Sometimes, family can be a real piece of work,” I said, my wooden spoon stirring the pasta rhythmically. “My mom wasn’t exactly thrilled with her brothers-in-law. Uncle Pete was the family clown, always up to some mischief and never without a laugh. She used to think he was a bad influence on my dad, probably because he was never sober when we saw him.”

“He must have been a handful,” he replied. “Your mom always seemed to see the best in people.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I remembered her. “She did, didn’t she? So, how about some dinner? We could sit, eat, and maybe talk a bit.”

Mason turned his back to me, his silence filling the room. I waited, hoping he would accept my invitation.

“I can’t. I’ve got a lot on my plate, especially with Eoin being out of the picture for a while.”

A wave of disappointment washed over me. I had hoped our conversation had brought us a bit closer.

But Mason was still keeping his walls up, maintaining a distance.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything,” he said, grabbing his scotch bottle and heading out of the kitchen.

I watched him leave, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

~Looks like it’s dinner for one…again.~

As I gave the pasta one final stir, I couldn’t help but reflect on how Mason must have felt all those times I pushed him away. All because I couldn’t remember the good times we had, only the bad.

That’s exactly how I felt now. He was pushing me away because he didn’t trust me.

And it seemed like there was nothing I could do to change his mind.