Ava
My eyes widened when Mason unzipped a large leather bag and opened it. “Shit, how much cash did you bring?” I asked as I passed him a mug of steaming coffee.
It had taken us four days to give the house a good clean down, and now came the task of renovating, decorating, and eventually filling the place with furniture.
“Enough,” he answered, pulling out a wad and then stuffing the bag back into the cupboard under the sink.
“You do know, if we get broken into, that cupboard will be the first place they look.”
Peering over his shoulder at me, he smirked. “Going on the crumbling exterior, you really think anyone will bother to rob us?”
“Fair point.”
“Besides, we can’t use cards, they’re traceable. So, cash it is.”
My heart broke a little when I pictured my platinum credit card. Damn.
“We’ll have a proper cremation and wake for all the cards, baby.”
I glared at him. “How do you do that? Read every bloody thought in my head.”
Laughing, he placed a kiss on my forehead. “The same way you do it.”
We’d been together for so long, and gone through so much, that I swore our souls were now united as one. A lifetime granted many things, and I would always consider the gift of Mason’s heart my most treasured possession.
“So, colours,” he stipulated, tapping the several paint sample cards he had spread out on the table, encouraging me to choose.
“Well, I like the grey and lemon combo.”
“Room, kitchen or bedroom?”
Clicking my tongue in thought, I shrugged. “Room, kitchen AND bedroom?”
“You want the same colour scheme throughout the whole house?”
When I had renovated the cottage George had bought me many years ago, I had been engrossed in all aspects of its revamp. Now, it just seemed like a mundane task.
Mason, sensing my lack of interest, wrapped both of his arms around my waist and pulled me against his firm body. “You’re not feeling it, are you?”
Needing to be honest, I sighed and looked into the warmth of his eyes. I was blind to the scars that now covered most of his handsome face, but one thing would always remain the same, seeing the adoration in the depths of his steel greys every time he gazed at me. “I’m sorry. It’s just not home.”
“That’s why we’re doing it up ourselves, so it will feel like home. It doesn’t at the minute because it’s full of someone else’s old shit.”
“I suppose.”
Slapping my arse playfully, he smiled. “Come on, let’s go buy a new bed. At least we’ll get a proper night’s sleep.”
I shuddered at the thought of spending another night on that lumpy mattress and nodded firmly. “Good place to start.”
Hesitating at the door when Mason disappeared through it, he turned to me and frowned. “Coming?”
“Is he there?” I whispered, frightened that I would be overheard. Mason started chuckling, and I glared at him. “Well? Is he?”
“Not sure what your problem is with him, baby. You love your ass playing with.”
Snatching my coat off the hook, I took a determined breath and cautiously stepped outside. “There’s a difference between your cock and Harry’s fucking snout!”
Laughing, he dropped a kiss on my forehead and scooped me up, cradling me protectively against his chest. “I’ll save you from the smelly pig, my little warrior.”
“And from Harry?” I quipped.
♡
Mason looked at me pensively as I tore a piece of bread from the roll and dunked it in my soup. We’d found a lovely little bistro near the farmhouse, and I was surprised how good the food was. It also had a bar and was within walking distance. Always a bonus!
“I love watching you eat,” he declared suddenly.
Peering at him across the table I could see the darkness that had seeped into the lines on his face within the last few minutes. The ache that was detectable in the way he stared at me told me I was in for a rough night. I was used to this now, the abrupt mood swings that haunted him in the aftermath of the most horrific day of his life. It broke my heart to see him hurt so much.
“And I love just watching you. Whatever you’re doing.”
Scoffing slightly, he nodded and dipped his spoon into his soup. “Hmm.”
“You not hungry?” I asked as I watched him rhythmically stir the vegetable broth for several minutes. He had allowed the crushing bleak thoughts to creep into the marrow of his bones. The zombie that had taken refuge inside him was slowly possessing more of my glorious bastard with every passing day, and I didn’t know what to do to get him back.
“Mason?”
Gulping, he stared at me but didn’t say anything. Noticing the tell-tale tremble, I reached across and gently took his shaking hand. “You can fight this, baby. You’re the strongest man I know. Let me in, let me help you. Please.”
His face was expressionless, but his eyes narrated the melancholy in his mind.
“I…” Shaking his head from side to side, he dumped his spoon in the bowl and stood up. Pulling out some cash from his back pocket, he threw it on the table. “I need a walk. I’ll see you back at the house.” When I made to stand, he shook his head wildly, his stare as crazy. “No. I need to be on my own for a while.”
Surrendering to the monster that had reared its ugly head once again, I simply nodded. I wouldn’t be able to reach inside and retrieve my husband tonight, and I could do nothing more than watch him walk away. Allow him to find the only thing that helped him nowadays. Cocaine.