He went on a rampage, trying to find me. I should feel bad about it, but I don’t. I needed space, and I took it.
Tears I refuse to shed prick at my eyes. I bury them. The last thing I need is to walk into the arena looking worse than I do. The press, the people, will be all over my appearance. I had to sneak in as it was.
“At first, I wanted to punish you. I stayed away to clear my head. Do we have to talk about what’s going on here? Cody needs your undivided attention, Mason.” I’m to chock full of bitterness to spill our dirty laundry all over this stark white hallway.
Hurt and unspun. Besides, anyone could come strolling down the hallway at any time.
“He’ll have it; you know he will. Turn around and let me see you, please. If this is where we have to talk, then so be it.”
“He better, or you’ll be hearing it from me.” I regret the words the second they slide off my tongue. I don’t care. If Mason is dead set on ignoring me, then he’s going to get an earful.
“What’s the supposed to mean?”
“You tell me, Mason.” We shouldn’t be having this conversation here. We shouldn’t be having one at all.
“Damn it, turn around, please.”
I don’t want to turn around and face the man, in doing so, it’ll destroy me again. So much for avoiding being alone with him.
Unease stirs through my stomach as I whirl around, almost falling flat on my face as I do.
I have never seen Mason look so torn and ragged. So twisted up that devastation outlines his features. He’s wrung and hung out to dry.
Tormented eyes rimmed with dark circles — quivering lips. Jaw locked tight. He’s a combination of angry and worries all rolled into a hauntingly beautiful man.
I want to make it all go away.
He tilts his head to the side and that when I notice there’s a small barely visible cut above his right eyebrow as well as a slight swell to his nose. That son of a bitch. Here I am trying to figure out a way to help him, and he’s bound and determined to ruin our marriage by sparring. He did it without a cage over his face. I can’t help to wonder if he did it on purpose to punish me.
I want to tell him he is evil for striking back at me in a way that could hurt him. I want to say to him I know all about it. I want to tell him he can go right ahead and hurt himself for all I care.
I do none of those when I should.
“For the sake of that young man sitting in a room waiting on his hero, I’m going to remain calm regarding the fact you lied to me about sparring. Cody doesn’t hide things as well as you do, Mason. Is this how he found out about our separation?” I square my shoulders, simmering my boiling temper.
Now I want to punish Mason. Whether it’s wrong or right, I’m going to make him see somehow that he cannot get away with lying.
I rip my attention away from his face, which is an error because all I notice is his massive chest underneath his t-shirt.
It drives me mad to fight against the temptation and pull that rises between when I can’t help the sigh that escapes my mouth. I’ve always been a sucker for his muscles. I remember so well how he’d pick me up and press me over his head as if I weighed nothing. Most of the time, it ended with me naked and underneath him.
My mouth waters.
I fight the urge to press my body against his and kiss him with all I have. The problem with the difficulty of trying to control myself only draws the attraction toward my husband more. My body is starving for him, and I hate and love it at the same time.
That starvation increases when Mason stares into my eyes for the long moment, and when his gaze finally moves to my lips, his tongue darting out to sweep his bottom lip, I feel it between my legs.
My very unsatisfied, still throbbing center.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he makes a slow descent down my body. My skin feels every drag of his eyes.
Bastard.
“Yes, I’ve been sparring with Gage. Cody showed up at the gym and caught us. The three of us worked things out, Eden. I lied, I’m sorry.”
There’s nothing I can do tonight to make sure Cody honestly is okay. I’m sticking with my gut that he is. Gage, though, I’ll call him the first chance I get.
“That might be so Mason; it does not mean worry isn’t weighing down Cody’s mind. My God, lying to me, is one thing. I’m not talking about what you do on your time, you go right ahead and do what you want. You asked where I’d been; I stayed at a hotel.” I shrug.
“I see. I missed you, missed you every second, Eden. Please, come home. I fucked up, and I can’t fix the damage to us if you don't let me try. God, I’m sorry I demanded you come home the way I did.” He murmurs as those striking blue eyes take in my face. “You look beautiful, you always do. You haven’t slept much, I can tell.”
He more than fucked up, he’s split us in two and we’ll keep on ripping as long as he continues to ignore and lie to me.
Denial. Mason will keep on ignoring it until he crashes and burns.
“No, I’m not. Did you expect I would? Me taking off isn’t about how you acted at the cottage.” It’s not. He stunned me. I was over it before I pulled out of the drive. We all say and do things out of anger and frustration.
I did when I brought up divorce. However, with each secret and lie I uncover, the more I mean it. I pray there isn’t more. If there is, I might fall over the edge.
I swallow. Everything inside of me slowing dying in agony.
“I’m not coming home. Not today, not tomorrow, not next week. What you have done isn’t something I’ll sweep under the rug, Mason. What this is, is our undoing. You knew what all of this would do to me, and you secretively went behind my back, and you continue to lie. I’m staying at the cottage from here on out, and you will stay away.”
He flinches, shoulders dropping. A hand goes to the wall, and the damage he’s created plays right before my eyes.
It’s carving me from the inside out to see him in mental anguish. Regardless, I won’t sit back and shut my mouth. Not when the situation we are in he brought on himself. My feelings deserve to speak. They did in the first place.
I love Mason. No matter the havoc he’s created, I do. Until the last breath I take, I will with the deepest part of me, but I hate him for what he’s done. For hurting me in ways, I might never forget. If he keeps heading in the wrong direction before I can figure out what to do, I’ll walk away without a fight, no matter how much it kills me to do so.
Sure, I could say the hell with it and forgive him, and someday I might be able to, but forgetting is a whole other story. I need to face facts, and so does he.
The fact there are obstacles between our marriage.
Natalie and boxing.
I can handle Natalie. Mason needs to admit his denial, and until he does, there’s no room for me. Plus, if he doesn’t, he will lose boxing all together because I won’t stand by and watch him commit unintentional suicide.
“I’m not scheduling a match. Jacob understands. I spoke to him a few days ago. I didn’t tell him why. Lord knows I tried; I couldn’t get the words to come out. I should have never thought about it. Fighting for us is more important. And, I shouldn’t have tried our angry sex technique either. I’m sorry.” He whispers, hand lifting as if to touch me before falling back down to his side.