“I signed the dotted line,” he says, warmth in his voice.
Honey flinches at that, feeling her heart drop into her stomach.
He chose.
He chose them.
The hospital, not her, not Daisy.
Mason finally looks at her, and she hopes he can see the betrayal written on her face.
“Here,” Mason says, grabbing a rolled-up packet of paper by his feet and handing it to her. “Look for yourself.”
With shaky hands, she rips the packet from his hand and half-hopes he got a paper cut. Mason’s lips tilt upward, like he knows what she’s thinking. Who is she kidding? He’s known what she’s been thinking for the last sixteen years.
Then all the breath leaves her at once when she sees the dotted line.
Her eyes scan it again and again to make sure it’s real.
Go fuck yourselves. I quit.
Honey blinks.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then she laughs.
Bubbling, giggling laughter that bursts out of her before she can stop it, disbelieving and wild enough that Mason’s smile cracks wider and he looks so fond, so genuinely happy that it takes her breath away.
“Mason…” she gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth. “You did not.”
“I did.”
“You wrote go fuck yourselves on an employment contract?”
“And I quit,” he says, like that is the important distinction, and points to the words. “See. There wasn’t enough room for me to write for them to shove it up their ass, but I think they got the gist. Their faces were priceless when I asked for a copy for my personal records.”
Honey’s mouth covers her smile as she giggles, but it fades when her eyes read over the offer.
The very generous offer, she thinks as her eyes widen. It’s tempting even now, but… he quit.
He quit.
For her.
For Daisy.
He chose them over the hospital. Over a secure financial future. Over everything he worked so hard for.
“But it was everything you wanted,” Honey says weakly.
“No, it was everything I thought I wanted.” Mason shakes his head firmly, standing from his seat.
He walks slowly toward her, each step careful not to spook Honey, and doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of her.