I spoke to Chance this morning when he stopped by the store, claiming he wanted to drop off his latest creation. I knew he was checking on me. Especially when I asked to see the art, and he gave me one of his smug, cocky bastard looks, then proceeded to tell me he forgot it, but his face fell the second I spilled what Mason had done.
I talked to both Gage and Cody today too. They confirmed what Mason told me. Both are still a little bitter, but they are willing to do all they can to help. However, when I brought up denial, which they, unsurprisingly to me, knew nothing about by their silence, my anger and guilt came on with a vengeance as I explained.
Mason is putting so many people in his corner that seems to be darkening the longer he holds his loss inside.
I feel guilty. I feel like the worst wife in the world. I’m confused, broken, and I’ve no clue what to do from here.
Huffing out a sorrowed breath, I turn around to face our tiny little piece of the world picturing the hundreds of times Mason and I would come here to escape the fast-paced life we’ve lived.
Thirty-eight-hundred square feet of paradise. The lawn is immaculate, thanks to Chance. There are flowers, a few pieces of Chance’s art he made, a hammock nestled in between two palm trees. Mason and I spent so much time in that hammock.
The interior holds a family room, four bedrooms, each with a bathroom — a dining area where you can view the ocean through a large bay window. The kitchen is bright and cheery, and there’s an adjacent indoor-outdoor living room with a half bath just inside the sliding glass door.
I love it here, but my turmoil wraps around this place too.
“Fine, get a divorce, I won’t give you a dime.”
I don’t know why at this particular moment, those words slay me. For some reason, they do, and they send a boatload of fury up my spine.
“Thanks for making me feel small and a fool, Mason,” I mutter to myself as I glance down the driveway noticing Aubrey’s van. It won’t be long before she brings her ass out here, and I can spill everything at her feet while wishing I didn’t have too.
Moving away from the water and dragging the hope and courage that I’m going to need with me, I sit in the sand and face the ocean — the warm evening breeze doing nothing to dissolve the chills that cascade over my skin.
My mind shifts into high gear, taking my heart with it. Drawing images of Mason. Of the way, the last time I saw him, his face revealing the bone-deep need for me to come home. That if I did, it would solve our problems.
“You ruined everything, Mason, and now I don’t know how to fight to keep you while damaging so much more in the process.”
God, everything is happening so fast, and I’m going crazy just as quickly.
“When did I lose you, Mason? When did you break our promise that we would never hold secrets and tell no lies? When?”
My eyes well up with tears again, my chin trembles, and the tears start streaming down my face. I feel raw from the inside out. It's like a thief stole my spirit, an injury no other person can see, and I’m tired of it. I am tired of crying. I am tired of feeling sorry for myself when it’s Mason who brought this on.
As I look out over the water, I paint a picture of the way; Mason slammed shutters down over his wish filled eyes the second the bell dinged to begin round one of Cody’s fight. He didn’t want anyone to see how badly he wanted to be the man in that ring.
But I saw it. I saw it as clear as day.
I would have never noticed it before, and it makes me so damn mad at myself for not seeing how much in denial he is.
I press my hand over my mouth and exhale my fear and frustration with a scream. “I walked away from the man I love fighting within himself. God, what kind of wife does that make me?”
“Well, if you're asking me, you’ll get an answer. If you're asking the ocean, it just makes you dwell on it all the more. Although, sometimes, the ocean is good for the soul too. You can confess, and it won’t give you advice or do your thinking for you, but nothing is better than the shoulder of your best friend. Mine are big and wide.”
Slowly I glance upward into the face of Aubrey. My mouth is opening and closing, and I don’t know why nothing will come out when I need my friend more than anything right now.
I don’t have to hide that every inch of me is at war from Aubrey. I don’t have to hide behind my mask of pain like I did last night like I’ve done today like I’ll have to do tomorrow because she gets me as much as I do her. We’re like two little peas in a pod. There’s no bullshit between us.
Despite my state of mind, I laugh.
“Big and wide? More like skin and bones. Your nothing but a skinny little thing.” She flexes her arms, and I can’t help but snort. It’s a snot-filled-nose, ugly snort.
“Don’t forget the stretch marks, saggy boobs, and, jiggly butt, shall I go on?” She smiles wide, and I usually would too at her comeback. Tonight though, for a reason I haven’t shared with anyone, I blink and blink over what she said before settling on squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears.
“Where are the kids?” I try sucking in a sob; it only made the tears start to fall.
“Oh, Eden. Here you are going through hell right now, and you're asking about my kids. What am I going to do with you?” Sorrow, it’s in her eyes. I don’t like seeing her sad.
I’m about to ask how she knows, but then I remember spilling most everything to Chance this morning. It hurts a bit more, knowing they don’t keep anything from each other.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but, hey, if you want to tell me everything is going to be alright, then,” I leave it at that. Both of us knowing she can’t and wishing she could.
“Eden, stop worrying about me. I love my children more than anything, but I spent an entire week with them, I need a break. I asked Noah if he’d take Pixy on his nightly walk, they went with him. Chance isn’t home yet. I’m here. Whatever you need me for, I’m here, okay?”
“I know you are. I’m scared. I hate that it’s going to take everything I have to make it through the days and nights without Mason. I’m confused. I’m lost, completely, and wholeheartedly without him by my side. I miss talking and laughing and touching.”
I miss him so much it’s killing me not to go home. I can’t seem to get myself to do it no matter how many times I’ve tried convincing myself to.
“I’m so sorry, Eden.” My lips tremble, and I glance toward the ocean again; twilight is creeping in, what's left of the setting sun has turned the sky a dusty purple. It’s beautiful, much like the news I found out last night. Something I hadn’t expected until I drove to the pharmacy looking for over the counter sleeping pills to drag me to sleep and walked down an aisle only to realize I was days late on my period.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt, my heart cracking all the more for Mason not being the first person to hear. We should be celebrating our miracle together.
“It hurts, oh, God, it hurts so much. I can’t find it in me to be happy about this when I should be. We’ve been trying for two years. I can’t tell him, Aubrey. I’ll take him back if I do.” The baby isn’t going to fix Mason. He has to scrape the bottom of the barrel first.
My words hang in the briny air that used to be so refreshing. Now it feels thicker than pea soup as I suck it into my lungs.