Mason will never admit his denial if we keep at each other’s throats. We yell and scream at each other. Neither wanting to give an inch. All fighting is doing is making matters worse. I need to come up with a way to get him to talk to me, to Chance, a therapist. I don’t care who. He just has to admit it, and it’ll be the step he needs. In the meantime, I’m going to lose my damn mind while not being around him.
“I’ll stand by your decision. The next step is to make a doctor’s appointment.”
Right. Just one more thing to go through without Mason.
“I already have.”
“Good, you’ll take one day, one step at a time. Chance told me you threatened divorce. Surely you didn’t mean that, right?”
I blink, my grief cresting with the waves.
“I’m so glad we bought this place,” I’m changing the subject. Not because I want too, because this woman doesn’t miss a thing. It’s the lawyer in her.
“I am too.” She smiles; it’s genuine and sincere. If only I weren’t going to whisk it away with the wind by bringing up more fears.
An emotion I never thought I’d have to feel again hits me.
Fear.
It’s in a different capacity than when Mason was hurt, but it burns and scorches nonetheless.
“Hey, did you forget I’m an attorney. People try changing subjects all the time to throw everything and everyone off. There’s something else troubling you. Tell me what it is.”
I let out a sigh, trying to think of how to word what I want to say.
“No, I mean, I didn’t at first. Now, I’m not so sure. I would never ask you to represent me if I did.” I printed off to do it yourself divorce papers before I left work so I could understand the process.
It’s hard to believe that if I were to follow through with it, we could be divorced before our baby is born.
“I know you wouldn’t. Just don’t do anything harsh. Give Mason time to sort through this. I’m talking, give him time to hit rock bottom.”
God, the thought of Mason, crashing, scares the hell out of me.
That guilt? It strikes again, rooting itself and spreads everywhere. Here our friends are stuck in the middle of the aftermath. “I’m sorry the two of you are in the middle.”
“Don’t be. I’m where I want to be. I’m your friend. You don’t have to worry about Chance and me. We know where to draw the line, Eden.”
I heave out a weary sigh, look down at my feet, and bury my toes in the sand.
Silence ensues for the longest time. I must swallow around the grapefruit-sized lump in my throat a hundred times while Aubrey continues to soothe me with her hands as if she’s coating me with strengthening balm to ease the ache inside.
“I have a plan.”
I can only hope it doesn’t backfire in my face.
Chapter Seventeen
Mason
“Wake up, Mason, and get out.”
I open my eyes from the best sleep I’ve had in a week and roll over to face my wife. That fucking gorgeous face I miss stares at me with misery, stress, anger. So much of those wrong emotions glare at me; my chest wants to cave in.
I snuck in last night and climbed into bed with her. I wanted to strip off both of our clothes and hold her skin to skin.
I didn’t dare.
“No. I’m comfortable where I am.” I’d be more if she’d flash me one of those stunning smiles, preferably while she rides my face with her head thrown back while I eat her into oblivion. Because let’s face it, I not only miss the presence of my wife on the daily, but I also miss loving her and drawing out her pleasure. Knowing I’m the only man who has ever given it to her.
Chance’s words about her being with someone else frame through my mind as quick as the click of a camera. Images flashing bringing in a fresh round of fear.
I’ll kill a man before that ever happens.
I’d felt that fear last night when I sat down and talked to Scott after Cody won his fight. I spilled my personal life all over his kitchen table while drinking water and eyeballing the glass of scotch he had in his hand. All the while, listening to him tell me how much of an idiot I am.
I wanted a drink so bad, but I wanted to sleep next to my wife more.
Scott, along with everyone else in our lives, are not my concern right now. I am nothing without this woman. I wouldn’t know how to exist without her. She is my concern.
“You look rested. Been going out of my mind with worry and concern.” She looks so much better than she did at Cody’s fight. “God, I miss you. Cody did great, didn’t he?” We never talked about how well he did. Eden took off like a bat out of hell the minute she could. I’ll talk about it all day if it keeps her beside me.
“He did, you’ve done great training him, Mason. I still want you to get out of this bed.”
This bed? Not our bed? Goddamn her.
“Let me back in, baby, please. I’ve missed you so much. A separation isn’t right; you know it isn’t.”
Eden shakes her head, those wild curls untamed and a ratted mess against the stark white pillow. I want to wrap it around my wrists and feast anywhere and everywhere.
My chest squeezes tightly. Fists of pain are clenching me in its grasp. This woman is so beautiful that staring at her too long has always sucked the air from my lungs.
“You are so beautiful. Do you want me to make your coffee? Make us breakfast? Put toothpaste on your toothbrush?”
“No, quit reminding of the things we do for one another. It isn’t me who’s forgotten.”
I suck in a breath. “I would never forget you.”
I glance toward the slightly open sliding glance door. I can hear the seagulls, the waves, the peace, and calm.
I don’t how many times we’d come in from a day on the beach and clean up. Then we’d sit in this very bed while I helped her comb out tangles only to mess it up by bending her over and taking her from behind while fisting her hair.
I want to do that now, to sink into my wife and remind her of who we are — two people who love one another more than anything else in this fucked up world.
I move a little closer, taking a lock of her hair and curling it around my finger. I am mesmerized as it springs back into place.
“I said no, Mason. Stop it.”
“So did I. Guess that leaves us in a stalemate.” Leaning in close to that lush mouth, I suck in her breath, not giving a shit if it’s morning breath. That never bothered or stopped me from getting of giving before. It won’t now. “If you're nice to me, I’ll make you come.”
“No, thank you. I’m fully capable of doing that myself. You're making up your own rules to gain the upper hand. Do you need me to explain the real meaning of the word, no? It’s simple.” Sarcasm. I used to love it; now I hate it.
I try tapping into my anger by breathing deeply, to draw it down, but it’s getting harder to do when she's so damn stubborn.
“You want to get yourself off, by all means, go for it. Don’t expect me not to get up close and personal to the subject at your hand.”
Her breath catches. “Right, is that pretty little head of yours remembering how many times you’d spread yourself wide and finger fuck yourself in front of me. You never once came on your hand because I took your orgasm with my mouth. I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ve missed you. Are you going to lie there and say you haven’t missed me too? I’m staying. We have things to discuss. For one, you don’t get to walk away from me and then think it’s okay to disappear.”