Page 125 of The Golden Hour

Honey huffs a small laugh before sobering.

“I meant after… the MCI.”

He is not annoyed by the question. On the contrary, her asking means a lot, but he feels emotionally wrung out from the day. From the blood and the girl who was not Honey. From the support group, and saying some of the hardest words aloud.

I think I’m addicted to my job.

“I’m…” Mason trails off when he realizes he doesn’t quite know how to answer her.

“You can say you’re not okay,” Honey whispers. “Dr. DeNunez says it’s not a weakness to admit that.”

Mason smiles at the reminder of her therapist, and the fact that Honey is brave enough to seek treatment, while it felt like climbing Everest just for him to realize he has a problem.

“I’m not okay, Honey,” Mason says, giving her an apologetic look he hopes she can see in the low light from Daisy’s little night-light. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Honey doesn’t look offended by his words.

Instead, her lips tilt up in the smallest smile.

“That’s all I need, Mason,” she whispers. “Just communication. Even if you don’t feel like talking, just tell me that. I will understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“I mean it, Honey,” Mason says, his throat tightening. “I’ll say it over and over again. I’ll show you until I take my last breath. I am so incredibly sorry.”

“I know you are, Mason,” Honey murmurs. “I see your regret, and I appreciate all that you’ve done to help me. Not Daisy, but me. I see it. I appreciate it.”

“It’s what you deserve,” Mason says, his eyes stinging and his heart starting to pound once more. “You’re the most important person in my life. You and our little Daisy.”

Honey gives him a small smile.

And that soft look hurts after what he realized on the ride home from the group tonight.

He had asked Mac how he was able to stay sober for so long.

Mac had smiled and said simply, “You gotta remove yourself from environments that will enable your addiction.”

“I don’t know what to do anymore…” Mason gasps. “I don’t think—I can’t…”

Honey doesn’t push, and Mason loses his battle with his tears when he feels a soft, warm hand grip his under the covers. She squeezes, and for the second time that night, the dam breaks.

“I can’t do it anymore, Honey,” Mason stumbles over his words, each trying to come out at once. “I can’t—I can’t—I’m so fucking scared I’m going to do it again⁠⁠—”

Honey’s chocolate gaze melts. “Mason⁠⁠—”

“But we can’t just start over,” Mason cries. “We need money. We have the debt, and the bills, and Daisy. We have too much riding on this, but I’m so fucking scared that if I stay there, I’m going to sink deeper into it. I’m going to become that person again. Every single second, I have to make sure I choose right and that sounds so fucking awful, because of course I choose you and Daisy, but—I’m so fucking scared that⁠⁠—”

Mason looks at Honey, feeling desperate and sick.

“That I’m going to lose you for good.”

Honey’s mouth presses in a line, and her brow furrows.

“Mason, are you even happy in the emergency room?”

Mason almost instinctively says yes, reflexive, defensive—yes of course I’m happy, how dare you for questioning that, I’m so fucking happy in the ED, I’m the fucking best there is—before he catches himself and thinks deeper.