Page 66 of The Golden Hour

She’s Daisy’s mother now.

Dr. Lewis turns toward the door, stops in her tracks, and turns around with a cruel smirk on her lips.

“Oh, by the way. The plastic surgeon here is great for a mommy makeover. He’ll be able to lift those back up in no time,” she says, eyes flicking toward Honey’s breasts with a barely contained grimace.

Honey’s heart sinks to the floor, and she tries to cover herself up to stuff down the shame crawling all over her body. Her eyes burn.

Do. Not. Cry.

Dr. Lewis paints on a smile and winks.

“Just being a girl’s girl,” she says, tossing the words over her shoulder on the way out of the room. “Tell Mason to text me. I really miss him.”

Only when she’s gone does Honey allow the tears to fall. She allows herself to cry in private, alone, because she thinks she deserves to break a little after what’s happened.

Still, she leans down and apologizes.

“I’m sorry,” Honey whispers to Daisy, though she is not even sure what she is apologizing for. For crying. For not being strong enough to let the words roll off her back. For thinking that they might be true. For bringing Daisy into a world where women like Dr. Lewis might try to harm her one day.

Daisy sleeps through it all, and Honey does smile at that. Good. Only good dreams for Daisy. Honey can handle misery. She’ll bear it for her daughter.

Always for her daughter.

Mason returns, his arms full of a blanket and a bag from Wawa, just as Honey has dried the last of her tears. He’s got a pleased smile on his face as he carries in his loot.

She doesn’t even let him get a word out.

“I just met Dr. Lewis,” Honey rasps, glancing down at Daisy—her strength. “She seems… lovely.”

She hears Mason stop in his tracks, and his voice is quiet.

“Honey?”

Only then does she glance back up at her husband, meeting his baffled gaze.

“Were you having an affair with Dr. Lewis?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MASON

Mason’s shoulders deflate at Honey’s words, at her teary eyes, at the trembling of her chin. Her question reverberates in his head, distorted and slow and sharp enough to slice him open.

Were you having an affair with Dr. Lewis?

It’s like he takes one half-step forward and then gets shoved right back down. The ripples of his neglect, of his failure to act and protect his marriage, have consequences from every fucking corner of his life.

And he has no one to blame but himself.

“No, Honey,” Mason says firmly. “I didn’t have an affair. I would never.”

Honey’s jaw twitches, and he sees her arms tighten around sleeping Daisy. Her hospital gown slips, exposing more of her skin, and she struggles to lift it back up and cover herself, her face twisting in discomfort as the movement pulls at her incision.

It is the way she looks embarrassed of herself, of her skin, of her body. Like he hasn’t seen and loved every inch of her since they were teenagers. She was beautiful then, even more so now, even with the changes.

She’s softer, exhausted, wounded, and still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

Witnessing what she survived has made him revere her like she’s holy.