Page 148 of Between Regrets and Promises

“Take as long as you need, Soph. There’s no rush,” he reassures me. “I’m sure your director understands.”

“He does. Thankfully.”

Mason wraps his arms around me and cradles my head as he hugs me to his chest. I inhale his musky scent, the one I miss so damn much, and lose myself in it for a moment. Before putting space between us, he kisses my forehead, but his lips linger before he releases me.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks away. He’s fighting the urge to touch me, and it makes me feel like shit for putting this space between us. But it’s what I need to do until I find myself again.

“Mason, wait.” I take a step, and he spins around. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I bite my lower lip. “Can I have your shirt?”

One brow arches as he stares at me. “My shirt?”

“Yeah. I took one with me to Utah, and well, the smell is kinda fading. So can I have the one you’re wearing? It helps me sleep.” I shrug, embarrassed to admit that.

Mason pulls his shirt off, then hands it to me. “You can have any shirt you want, sweetheart.”

I hold it in my hands against my chest. With Mason’s abs on full display, it’s hard to look away. “Thank you.” I suck in the smell, grinning. “I’m sorry for?—”

He cuts me off before I can continue. “Don’t be, Soph. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’mhere,” he reminds me, cupping my face and rubbing a thumb along my cheek, so soft and sweet. “I’m not goinganywhere.”

Nodding, I smile weakly before walking to my room. It’s not until I shut my door that I catch him watching me. He gives me a wink before turning to go upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as I shut my door, I sink to the floor, tears covering my cheeks as I bury my face in his shirt.

I hate that I can’t fight this. This feeling of being so damn weak and ignorant. I want to lean on him, but I can’t always depend on someone else to lift me up. I allowed a terrible man into our lives, and Mason may forgive me for it, but I can’t forgive myself.

Not this time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

MASON

Tryingto give Sophie the space she needs while showing her that I’m here for her no matter what is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I want to tell her every day how much I love her, how much I want us to be together, and that we can get through this. We can get throughanything. I want to shower her with kisses and hold her while she falls asleep.

But I can’t do any of those things while she works through this, and I’m determined to respect that. But fuck me if it isn’t a struggle.

It’s been four days since she’s been home and not hearing her play her violin has been a hard reality to swallow. When I spoke about it to Hunter, he said Lennon went through something similar after Brandon died. She used to sing in the shower daily, and then she stopped—formonths. It broke his heart, and it’s breaking mine to see Sophie’s pain written all over her gorgeous face.

She goes to her first therapy session this afternoon, and I hope it can help her move forward. My words of encouragement can only help so much, and it’s not enough, but the selfish part of me wished it was.

“Morning,” I say when she walks into the kitchen.

Sophie’s hair is a wild mess on top of her head, but it’s cute as hell. For the past few days, she’s met me out here for breakfast before I have to leave for work. Though I want to stay home with her all day, I know that won’t help things.

“How’d you sleep?”

Sophie rubs her eyes, yawning. “Not great.” When she doesn’t continue, I don’t push for more although I want to. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me.

“Sorry,” I say, keeping my feet planted as I lean against the counter. “Want some coffee?”

“Yes. Thanks.” I pour some into the mug before handing it to her. She takes it, then finds a seat at the counter. There’s never been awkward silence between us, but lately, there have been moments of not knowing what to say or how to act. I want to scoop her up into my arms and kiss her until our lips go numb. I get a little hope knowing she’s sleeping with my T-shirt, and without her asking, I gave her another one last night before she went to bed.

“Happy your appointment is today?” I ask as I dig into the fridge. I don’t need anything, but I need to keep my hands busy. I end up pulling out lunch meat and decide to make a sandwich for work. Someone will eat it if I don’t.

“Yes and no,” she says, again not adding more. “Just a heads-up, I’m meeting my sisters for dinner afterward. So I’ll be home a little later.”

“Okay,” I say. The tension between us is so damn thick I could cut it with a knife. She doesn’t want to talk to me, and I don’t know what to say to her. We yo-yo between things being okay to things feeling like they’ll never go back to normal again—never get back to what we once had—and that scares the living shit out of me.

---