Page 86 of The Golden Hour

He can only move forward, so he needs to be intentional with his choices and words to fix everything.

“When I first saw you,” Mason says, his voice low, careful, “I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on.”

Honey frowns, her expression confused.

“Every single fucking day since then, I think you are more beautiful,” Mason says, his voice firm. “I know it doesn’t mean anything without me showing it to you, but never, ever doubt that you set my blood on fire. Then…” he licks his lips, swallows hard and rasps, “Now.”

Honey reels back slightly at the intensity in his tone.

He softens. “Always.”

Honey blinks rapidly, the sign that she’s pushing back tears.

“You don’t,” she huffs, then swallows. “I don’t know why I’m asking this because we’re not together⁠⁠—”

Mason represses a flinch at the reminder.

“You don’t think my breasts are gross and… saggy?”

The brokenness of her voice makes him want to die, as does the way her shoulders rise to her ears like she’s bracing for his answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Melissa checking on Daisy now that the shrieking banshee is gone. For good.

“Honey, look at me,” he says, waiting until she lifts her gaze to meet his. “There is not one single part of you I find ugly. Not one.”

Honey’s eyes fill, and her chin wobbles.

“But they sag now, and I have stretch marks everywhere, and my stomach is still… and…” her mouth twists. “The scar⁠⁠—”

“Your body carried our daughter,” Mason rasps, gently cutting her off because he cannot listen to her say those things about herself. He cannot let her think she is anything but perfect in his eyes. “Survived for her. Every single inch of you is beautiful to me, Honey.”

Honey doesn’t melt, but the hurt, harsh lines of her face soften slightly. He does not expect her to swoon or just fall back into his arms, because this Honey is different. She has always been strong in Mason’s eyes, but motherhood reinforced those steel walls she always had and never believed she did.

He doesn’t think his words have turned her on or anything, but maybe they eased a burn he didn’t even know was there. And it’s just the God's honest truth. Honey is the most beautiful woman in the world, and motherhood has only enriched that beauty beyond comprehension for him.

She blinks twice before dropping her gaze, but her gentle voice reaches his ears.

“You meant that?”

“On my life, Honey,” he says easily.

Her throat works as she swallows and nods lightly.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs. “Don’t have to thank me for the truth.”

Honey takes a deep breath and buries her face in her hands, her shoulders rising and falling as she inhales, calming herself.

Her mother had braided Honey’s hair that morning to get it out of her face, but a piece of golden honey hair is falling out of place now. Mason reaches up and hovers his fingers near it, just barely brushing against the strands, just close enough to smell her sweet scent that even the sterile hospital air cannot cover.

Just physically within reach, but Honey is still so far away emotionally from him. It feels like he is in the middle of the ocean, hanging desperately onto a buoy. He can see Honey standing on the beach, watching him, seeing what he is going to do next.

And all that’s on his mind is getting back to her.

Clawing.

Swimming.

Fighting.