Page 81 of The Golden Hour

“Fuck,” he breathed, scrubbing his hands down his face.

“Honey’s case is a monumental embarrassment for them,” Farah said, setting her jaw. “And this hospital is already treading water.”

Mason frowned in confusion at her words. He always heard that the hospital was doing too well, that their patient satisfaction scores were sky-high. By all accounts, St. Mary’s was Philadelphia's crown jewel hospital.

Was any of that even true, or was it just more bullshit?

“Treading water?” he questioned quietly.

Farah shook her head and dismissively waved, giving him a pointed look.

“You’ll find out what I mean soon enough. Here, this is what I could preserve,” she said, reaching into her white coat pocket and handing him the flash drive. “You don’t even want to know how many favors with admin I called in for this. I never gave you this, Carpenter.”

“Thank you,” Mason said, immediately placing it in his front pocket. “Seriously, thank you…”

“My residency is done next month,” Farah told him, a sneer on her face as she glanced around the empty hallway. “There isn’t a dollar amount that could get me to stay in this place. I’ll let you know what hospital I land at, if Honey wants to continue being seen by me.”

“I think she will,” Mason’s throat tightened as he said his next words, “Thank you for taking care of my girls.”

“It’s why I chose this,” Farah nodded and shook her head with a mirthful smile. “I almost quit twice. Mortimer was the worst mentor I have ever had. I’ll be glad to be rid of him.”

Mason’s throat burned.

“I shouldn’t have told Honey to see him.”

“Hindsight, Carpenter. The blame for her care ultimately lies with him and his outdated, misogynistic practices.” Farah snorted. “Good news is that those old men are dying off—just not fast enough for me.”

Mason has kept the flash drive on him at all times since then, his hand instantly pressing against the two-inch piece of plastic in his pocket like he is self-soothing.

Now it’s discharge day.

They are leaving the hospital in a few minutes, and Honey has been a bundle of nerves all morning. Mason cannot blame her. He wants her out of this place, too, but he hates that he is carrying one more thing she does not know about. He just doesn’t want to stress her out more than she already is, but he still hates that there’s a secret sitting between them. Even if this one is meant to protect her.

So, he’ll speak to her about the records when the time is right.

When she’s home safe and sound.

Home.

Not their house, her parents house, because she no longer feels safe in their house.

Just another thing he fucked up for his wife.

Honey spent so much time and energy making their place into a warm home. Going to flea markets, garage sales, and thrift stores with her mom and his, revamping old furniture and decor to fit them.

And he turned their home into a cavern of loneliness and despair and fear. God, he hates thinking about how scared and alone she must have felt while he was here, in this fucking place, too drunk on praise to take a look around. Selfish asshole.

It breaks his heart that they are not going home like he always pictured.

Daisy in the car seat in one hand, his other hand holding Honey’s as they walked out to his car. Driving well below the speed limit with Honey in the backseat next to Daisy, softly singing to her. Carrying their little girl into the house for the first time. Placing Daisy in her crib, his arms wrapped around Honey from behind as they gently swayed to her singing their daughter to sleep.

Then, pulling her fully into his arms and dancing around the room as they did at their wedding, while she hums their first dance song in his ear.

Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves.

He hears the melody in his head now, even seven years later. Without shame, he cried like a baby in front of their family and friends as he twirled his glowing wife around the dance floor.

Crying like he did when he first saw her appear at the end of the aisle with her father, walking toward him.