Page 71 of Mase
The last time I saw her like this, she’d had a spat with the young gardener; one I’m convinced she was fucking. He handed his notice in, but not before I witnessed his mother and Tara exchanging heated words.
There’s nobody outside.
Just the two of us.
And Summer in the house.
I step outside, and she falls against my chest, clinging to my T-shirt for support, and her touch sends a vile sensation through me. Like a billion insects are trying to burrow under my skin. Slowly, I unpeel her hand from my T-shirt.
“What are you doing here, Tara?” I bite out. The anger in my voice is evident, and her eyes widen, and she scans me as if searching for the old Mase. The one she could walk all over, speak down to, and manipulate.
Something flashes across her face, then she clears her throat and shakes her head.
“I’ve got cancer!” she sobs, and I rear back, stunned. Of all the things she could say, I never expected it to be that. Never.
I might not like the woman; who am I kidding? I despise her, but cancer? I wouldn’t wish that on her. Swallowing, Iwait for the familiar feeling of guilt at letting her down, but it doesn’t come. In its place is a steely determination, so I widen my stance.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But you shouldn’t be here.” My voice is devoid of emotion.
“Please. Can I come in? I have no one else.” I find that hard to believe; she always had someone else. She spent enough time telling me so and enough time jumping from bed to bed. There was always someone, anyone but me.
“No,” I grit out.
She gasps, and I want to roll my eyes at her dramatics. “Look, Tara. You can’t be here. I’m sorry.”
A strange wail leaves her, and I step back. “P-please. I don’t want to stay at the hospital tonight. The last time I was there, I was pregnant.”
“That was in New Jersey.” I’m quick to correct.
“They put me on a ward where there’re pregnant mothers, Mason. Have you any idea how that feels after losing our babies?”
I grit my teeth, hating the fact she refers to another man’s child as my baby.
“I’m asking for one night, Mason. As the mother of your unborn children.” I wince at her wording, and for the first time ever, I realize something. Not having children with Tara was a blessing. It saved any kids with her from having the childhood I had.
Without the abuse from her, I would never have had that one night with Summer, the night our babies were created. I wouldn’t have had the secure, loving relationship I have now.
I wouldn’t be happy.
“One night, then you’re out. I’m sorry you’re suffering, Tara, but I don’t want to see you again.”
Something flickers in her eyes, a sinister gleam that’s quickly masked, and I’m already second-guessing my decision. But like a fool, I push open the door and allow heraccess to the mansion I equally hate as much as the woman stepping into it.
The moment she steps inside, all my energy is sucked from me. I’ve gone from sharing memorable moments with the woman I’m falling in love with, to being thrown back into the darkness with the one I once would have given everything to have love me back.
She totters around, circling me in her high heels, and the sound of them brings with it a rush of nausea. Dread lines my stomach. “Mase. I’ve started treatment and really don’t want to be alone.” She snivels and wipes at her nose.
I look her over. Her normally well put–together self is off. Something is off.
My phone blares through the foyer, vibrating in my hand, and I glance down at it to see Owen calling. He was trying to give me a heads-up of this bullshit. I silence it again.
“What kind of cancer?”
She wobbles on her high heels, and I step toward her, sniffing the air, knowing if she’s been drinking, she’s far worse, potentially violent, and I refuse to have that around Summer. “Huh?”
“What kind of cancer do you have?”
“Ovarian.” She swallows, and her dark eyes meet mine. “I can’t have children.” Her glare is searing into me, tugging at the pain and torment that wraps around my heart like a cord, pulling tighter by the second. She knows this is my weakness. Does she also know I’m going to become a father? That I’m finally getting everything I ever wanted.
