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“I know, baby, but we’ve gotta go.”
My feet slipped on the ice under my boots, and Eli held me up, urging me to take small steps back to the car. By the time we got there, I was choking on my sobs. He helped me into the car and snuggled me close in the back seat while Elle and Mason occupied the front.
I glanced at my sister. She looked perfect. Her cheeks had a tinge of red from the winter winds, but otherwise her makeup remained intact. Meanwhile, I was positive I had makeup all over my red, blotchy, tear-stained face. She was the one who worked with him every day, and yet I was the one losing my shit in a cemetery.
I tried to work out who that said the most about. My father? Me? Elle? He made her this way. This… robotic.
Him being gone meant I could stop being so worried about being “noticed.” I wanted no part in the circus that was political life. So why did I give a fuck that he was gone?
I was reminded of why I hated the spotlight so much the next day when I saw pictures from the service. I looked every bit the hot mess I imagined while my sister looked perfect. Put together, but also sad without looking sad.
If I hadn’t seen her break down over Silas last fall, I would’ve sworn she was incapable of feeling at all.
Fifteen
“I need to talk to you,” Mason’s voice came through the phone with no greeting.
“Oh, hi! I’m great, Mason how are you?” I retorted with a hefty dose of sarcasm.
Of which he ignored. “Can we please talk?”
“We are talking. What do you need?” I laced my voice with irritation. I spent the last few years accommodating his requests to see Wyatt in a way that didn’t rouse suspicion, and it had been increasingly more common for him to ask. I wanted my son to know his father, but not like this. This was asinine.
“I think we need to talk in person.”
“Just say you want to see Wyatt.”
“This isn’t a conversation we should have in front of him.”
Well, that got my attention. “Okay, what did you have in mind?”
“Can you meet me somewhere halfway? I don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t want Elle to know.”
Since Eli was home and able to handle Wyatt, I slipped out to meet with Mason.
I sat down in the cafe, and Mason slid a latte toward me. “Thanks.”
“It’s time.” He stared at me with furrowed brows.
My heart rate picked up. I wanted Wyatt to have a relationship with Mason and know him as his father, for Wyatt’s sake. But I was terrified what that meant for my time with him. “Time for what, exactly? And I mean exactly. Be specific.” I pressed my hands into my cup to keep them from shaking as the possibilities of his words flooded my mind.
“Well, you see…” Mason ran a hand down his face in an uncharacteristic show of anxiety. “I need to divorce your sister.”
I choked on my coffee. “What?”
“You know I love her, Catherine. I do. That’s why I know I have to let her go.”
Several beats of silence passed as I let that sink in. Finally, I said, “Wow. Um, I’m stunned. You just got married.”
“I fucked up,” he admitted with a grimace.
I let out a chuckle. Yeah, you did. “How so?”
“I knew she loved him, and I made her marry me anyway. And she’s fucking miserable. She’s Elle, so it’s hard to tell, but I know her and trust me, she’s miserable.”
“Oh, I knew she would be. Especially the day before your wedding, when I had to console her as she bawled her eyes out for hours.”
Mason’s eyes widened. “Wait? When before the wedding? Before or after the rehearsal dinner?”
