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"The thing about me and you is that you always liked to play the innocent card, Gigi. You liked to think I was this pillar of strength for you, but you know in your heart that's not true. You just didn't want to see it. Our story worked best when you were chasing me, believing that I was pushing you away, but if you truly looked, I never once pushed you away. You knew that I was just as broken as you, and that's why we fit so well. You let me inside, you let me get close, and together we got lost."
“I can’t even believe you would say that. You’re right. You may never have pushed me away, Mace, but I didn’t see you pulling me closer either.”
Her words cut deep because they’re true, and I know they will fester inside of me and rot a hole in my chest where my heart used to be. When I glance over at her standing in the driveway in her swimsuit and jean skirt, shivering with a tear-soaked face, I hate myself. We did this to ourselves. "This is the last time, Gianna. I'm seeing this through, and then I'm out."
I don't give her time to respond before closing the door and driving off. Finding the words in my heart and saying them out loud made me realize I couldn't blame everything on her. None of our stories are fair, but that's love, it's messy, and sometimes we're not meant to be with the people we love. Now I have to find a way to make peace with losing the only happiness I ever had and move forward now that she’s gone. I let her slip through my fingertips, and I only have myself to blame for that.
August
Seven
AsmuchasIwanted to give the two of them privacy, I couldn't. The minute I got in the house, I headed straight to my office and pulled up the security footage, so I could listen. They have history, a past, and as much as I hate it, I know she cares for him, and that's precisely why I'm listening. Does he still have her heart?
I watch Mason slam the door on the SUV and pull off, I'm about to go outside and get my girl and comfort her, but something stops me. Long moments have passed since he pulled off, but she has remained glued to her spot, seemingly perplexed. Tilting her head to the sky, she gazes at the stars. Watching her stand there in the dark looking toward the sky, I can't help but wonder if her thoughts are of him. Does she believe his words that she chose wrong? Does she want to go after him? I’m not an insecure person, but the thought of her leaving me strikes a chord down deep that I didn’t know existed and now I need a drink.
Standing in the kitchen, I'm pouring myself a glass of wine when I hear the front door open. We've had an incredibly long day, it's just past midnight, and she's still in her swimsuit. There is still so much to talk about before we go to bed, but she needs a shower. Fuck I need a shower, but I want to take care of her. I may have been through a lot this week, but she just found out she lost a parent and maybe something more.
Taking a sip of my wine, I watch as she enters the front door and aimlessly makes her way over to the kitchen island, looking dejected and tired. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms and hold her, but that never ends well for us. No words are ever had.
"Baby, I know we have so much to talk about, but why don't you go take a shower, unwind for a minute. I'll put something out on the bed for you to wear when you get out."
Surprisingly, she doesn't argue. She just nods. I watch as she turns around and pauses. That's when I remember the last time we were here, she only saw this very room. She has no idea where the master is.
"It's the hallway off the office straight back on your right."
Again, no words. Instead, she starts heading the way I instructed. I still can't tell where her head is, I’m sure most of it is shock, but Gianna has never ceased to amaze me. There’s a reason I was stunned when I found out her age. She doesn’t carry herself the way a typical eighteen-year-old would. Gianna’s life experiences from her youth have matured her years beyond her age. The roles are suddenly flipped again, and this woman has made me feel less than sufficient simply by being strong. I’m struggling not to be insensitive and tactless, but I can’t help but feel insecure because while she may not see it in herself, it’s written all over her identity. She doesn’t need a man, any man that’s in her life will be there because she wants him to be and not the other way around. I want to be that man.
Once I hear the shower turn on, I head down the hall and into the master bedroom. In the closet, I grab one of my t-shirts and a pair of boxers for her to change into. Laying them on the bed, I decide to shoot a quick text to my personal shopper to have clothes brought over first thing in the morning for her.
Exiting the master, I decide to call Mason before Gigi gets out of the shower. The fucker didn't have to talk to her like that tonight of all nights.
When I get back to the great room, I head over to my bar to grab something more potent than wine and pour myself three fingers of bourbon. Before putting the cap on, I take a pull straight from the bottle for good measure. Then, picking up my glass, I grab my phone off the kitchen island and head over to the wall of windows. The view of the Ozark Mountains never gets old. It has a way of grounding you and putting everything in perspective, which I need before making this call.
The phone rings once before Mason answers.
"What do you want, August?"
Is this guy serious right now? I'm not even going to bite because I know he's been through hell and back tonight. He's had a decade to love Gianna, I've had a month, and I couldn't imagine the torture he must be enduring at this moment. That being said, he didn't have to be an ass.
"You know tonight wasn't the night to unload on her."
"Is that what you called me about, August? To lecture me on how I should handle Gigi?"
"No, Mason, it is not. However, it took a great deal of restraint for me not to come out there and kick your ass. You will not speak to her like that ever again. I'm giving you a pass tonight. It's been a long week and an even longer day. I know you're going through some shit, but you will show her some respect."
I can hear him take a deep breath. He's clearly biting his tongue, but as long as we are clear, that's all I care about. I'm about to ask about her family when I decide he needs to hear one last piece of my mind.
"Mason, today was not your fault. You can't blame yourself for Carson's death. I saw the look on your face when you watched her fall to her death. If you need someone to blame, let it be me. I chased her. I put the fear in her. She was trying to escape me. You were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time."
Again silence, I check the phone to make sure he didn't hang up on me. He didn't. That's when I realize it's quiet, too quiet. The shower is no longer running, and a reflection in the window catches my eye.
Gianna is standing at the entrance to the great room, and I'm pretty sure she just heard everything. I would have told her eventually, but it's not something I would have shared tonight. She has been through enough today, this conversation didn’t need to happen, but I’m glad she knows. There is more I want to say to Mason, so I don't acknowledge that I know she's there. I promised her no secrets when I asked her not to run, and I plan on keeping my word. She’s worth whatever fallout I must live through as long as she’s by my side.
"I think I have a plan to take down Ethan, but I need to know if you have all the evidence backed up and verified on Robert and Eduard? We need a paper trail, and we need it by morning. Do you think you can have all that squared away?"
"Yeah, that's not going to be a problem." He's clipped and terse. This conversation has gone as far as it's going to go. That's when I feel Gianna's hand on my shoulder. She gestures for me to hand her the phone, and my heart sinks. I reluctantly hand it over and walk away to give her some space.
Walking over to the living area, I take a seat on the couch before I hear her ask, "Mason, have you told my mom?"
