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Mason
Mason leaned against the wall in the hallway as Pippa soothed his daughter in a way he was incapable of.
“Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re staying away from me?” Aspen’s voice broke with a sob.
His chest constricted and his eyes slammed shut, barring the emotion from the two most important women in his life. His little girl was blaming herself for this whole fucked-up situation. What can I do to fix this? He’d been trying for weeks. Fighting off the overwhelming urge to run back to Pippa and beg her forgiveness, and struggling to get through the day when he remembered that they could never be. He’d reread the texts they’d exchanged a hundred times. He’d even stopped going to Remy’s Stardust Café just to avoid seeing Pippa. Aspen and he had been getting into arguments every single day. He’d run out of patience, and she’d blamed him for messing everything up. He was in way over his head. Hopefully, someday she’d understand he’d only been protecting her.
“I haven’t been feeling well.” Pippa’s voice drew his attention back to the room. Was she sick? Or was she having more seizures? She needed someone to check on her and make sure she was taking care of herself. I wish it could be me. Or was the stress from all of this causing her health issues to worsen?
“What happened between my dad and you?” Aspen asked.
A beat of silence passed. He pressed his ear closer to the cracked door as he held his breath.
“Your dad loves you and wants the best for you.”
“I love you too. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mom. I can’t remember mine, but I hope she was as cool as you. You’d be a great mother.”
Mason stepped away. He’d heard enough. The two women he loved most in the world were hurting because of him. Because of Roy. But how could he make this right? Her father would always be the man who . . .
Doubt crept into his mind. Roy Davis drove through an intersection and hit the car with his wife and daughter in it, killing Amanda. If he hadn’t been driving . . . it would have been someone else. Because the truth was . . . the truth was Amanda ran the red light.
He forced one foot in front of the other until he was in the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and his face soured. What was that awful smell? He leaned in towards his armpit and sniffed.
Mason grimaced as the stench hit his nose. Stale cigar smoke and scotch. He was a wreck. After filling the glass with tap water, he drank it down and headed back upstairs for a quick shower. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. On his way by Aspen’s door, Pippa’s voice carried out to him. She was reading a story to his little girl. Mason returned to the kitchen, sitting at the bar with his head in his hands.
Am I doing the right thing? Everything was spinning out of control and now he didn’t know which way was up or down, and what was right or wrong.
A throat cleared from the entry to the kitchen. His eyes snapped open, locking on the woman whose absence tormented him and presence slayed him.
She tucked a stand of dark hair behind her ear as her gaze shyly wavered from his. “I . . . uh . . . Aspen’s asleep.”
Duty and love warred inside him, creating utter chaos as he soaked her in, his voice held captive. Her beautiful amber eyes locked on his, pleading for the impossible. He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay, but that would be a lie.
The light in her eyes dimmed before her gaze dropped to the floor. Her shoulders slumped. She shook her head and turned away.
“Pippa?” His voice was raspy.
She froze, tipping her head to the side without looking at him. Her shoulders trembled in silent grief that rolled off her in waves big enough to drown him.
“Thank you.”
Her head dipped. She spun around. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m sorry about everything, but I understand why you think this is the way to handle things. I don’t agree, but she’s your daughter.”
He staggered back a step, awed by this powerful woman. Despite her obvious pain, she understood.
“I told Aspen I was here if she needed anything and gave her my number. I hope that’s okay. I hope . . .” Her voice broke as she struggled to regain her composure. Tears tracked down her face. His hands fisted at his sides before he did something stupid like try and hold her. He couldn’t touch her, because if he did, he’d never be able to let her go again.
But could he tell his daughter when she was older that her mother was killed by Pippa’s dad? It would only make it harder on both women he loved if they got even more attached before Aspen found out. And he didn’t want her to blame Pippa.
Her chin lifted. “I need to tell you something.”
His eyes slammed shut, a poor attempt at a wall between his heart and the all-encompassing love this woman emitted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“But—”
“No.” He snapped, his gaze locked on her once again.
She flinched before her jaw clenched. Steel laced her voice. “I won’t bother you again.” She picked up her phone, tapped on the screen and then slipped it back in her bag, hiking it higher on her shoulder.
