Chapter 35: Chapter 35

JAMIE

I was in the middle of my closet, phone pressed to my ear, trying to decide what to wear for the day. Eoin had called me out of the blue, after failing to reach Mason. He wanted to apologize for his behavior at the funeral.

Honestly, I didn’t think he had anything to apologize for. He’d just lost his father, and it was only natural that he was upset and lashing out. I completely understood.

“I promise, it’s okay,” I reassured him. “We get it. You were upset. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

He let out a heavy sigh on the other end. “No, it’s not okay,” he insisted. “I was a mess, and I shouldn’t have acted out like that. I embarrassed myself in front of everyone.”

I tried to sound as comforting as possible. “It’s all water under the bridge,” I said, pulling a pair of jeans off a hanger and laying them on the ottoman behind me. “Really, don’t stress about it.”

Mason walked out of the bathroom, looking as sharp as ever. His hair was perfectly styled, and he was dressed in a crisp white shirt and navy suit pants. I watched him pull out a tie that matched his suit perfectly from the drawer.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, meticulously tying the knot. I admired his attention to detail, the way he adjusted the length and angle until it was just right.

“Thanks, Jamie,” Eoin said. “Can I talk to Mason? I want to apologize to him too.”

I hesitated, unsure of how Mason would react. He hadn’t said much about the incident since the funeral, but I could tell it had upset him.

I decided to take a chance. “Hold on a sec,” I said, pulling the phone away from my ear and muting it. “Eoin wants to talk to you,” I told Mason. “He wants to apologize.”

“Tell him I’ll talk to him at the office,” Mason replied, his voice steady. It didn’t surprise me. Mason is a private person, and he likes to handle difficult situations on his own terms.

I nodded, not wanting to push him. I unmuted the call. “Eoin, he said he’ll talk to you at the office. Is that okay?”

“Sure, Jamie,” he replied, sounding a bit deflated. “Just tell him I’m sorry, okay?”

“I will,” I promised, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. I knew what he was going through. I knew what it was like to lose a parent, and the pain and confusion that came with it.

“Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” I offered, trying to give him some comfort.

“I will,” Eoin said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I said my goodbyes and hung up the phone. I couldn’t help but reflect on my conversation with Eoin. He was clearly still struggling.

I slipped into my jeans, the soft fabric comforting against my skin. The dressing room was quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of our clothes.

I turned to Mason. “So, are you going to talk to him at the office?” I asked.

He hesitated before answering. “If Eoin feels like he needs to talk about it,” he said.

I nodded, understanding his reluctance. He was still trying to process everything.

“It seems like he does,” I said. “Maybe it’ll help him feel better about what happened. Otherwise, he’ll always feel guilty.”

I pulled my jeans up and buttoned them, glancing at my wardrobe, trying to pick out a casual T-shirt.

Mason nodded, looking thoughtful. “Okay, I’ll talk to him,” he said, grabbing his suit jacket and draping it over his arm. “I need to get going. I have meetings this afternoon, but I should be home by six.”

“Okay,” I replied, smiling at him.

As I watched him walk toward our bedroom doors, his back straight, a sense of unease settled in my stomach—a feeling that was all too familiar. It was like a bad omen.

I yearned to call him back, to pull him into a tight embrace, hoping he’d return the gesture. But the knot in my stomach held me back, and once he was out of sight, the feeling disappeared too.

“What’s up with you, Jamie?” I muttered to myself.

After getting dressed, I spotted one of Mason’s pricey watches on the ottoman. He must’ve switched watches and forgotten to put this one back, I figured. I picked it up, appreciating the intricate design and the gleaming silver finish.

I made my way to the dresser in our bedroom and opened Mason’s side. I was met with an impressive array of shiny watches, sunglasses, and other pieces of jewelry, all perfectly arranged.

Each item had its own designated spot, a testament to Mason’s meticulous nature. I returned the watch to its rightful place, chuckling at his particularity. Everything had a place…

Except for me, I realized, spotting a small black velvet box tucked away in a corner of the drawer.

I hesitated before picking it up. The size of the box immediately made me think of a diamond ring. I was about to open it when the sound of the bedroom door opening startled me.

“I forgot my watch…” Mason’s voice trailed off as he entered the room, his eyes landing on the open drawer.

I quickly turned around, hiding my hands behind my back, the box still clutched tightly in my grasp. My heart pounded in my chest. If he thinks I’m snooping, he might get upset.

“Oh, I thought you had left already,” I said, trying to sound casual.

Mason approached, his brows furrowed. “No, I was outside when I realized I didn’t have my watch, so I came back.”

“I found it on the ottoman and was just putting it back,” I explained. I turned back around to quickly pick up his watch. I slipped the mysterious box back into its corner, praying he wouldn’t notice. I held out the watch to him.

Mason eyed me suspiciously, his gaze scanning my face. He hesitated before taking the watch, his eyes lingering on the drawer. “Penelope was asking for you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Rita has your breakfast ready.”

“Okay,” I responded, trying to sound indifferent. I walked past him, leaving the bedroom. I was hoping he would leave before me so I could sneak a peek inside that box. But maybe Mason’s unexpected return was a sign that I shouldn’t be so nosy.

***

Rain drummed against the restaurant windows, creating a rhythmic soundtrack. I watched as people scurried by with vibrant umbrellas, battling the strong winds. Raindrops raced down the glass, their streaks and smudges distorting my view of the busy streets.

“I’m back,” Carmen announced, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned to see her settling into the seat across from me.

“So, what are you going to do about the box? Are you going to check it?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I know I would.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel like I’m invading his privacy. It’s in his drawer for a reason.”

“Maybe he’s gathering the courage to propose,” Carmen suggested, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She reached over and snagged a fry from my plate. “I wonder how long he’s had it?”

I laughed. “It might not even be a ring.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “It’s a ring and you know it. I can’t believe he’s going to propose. Mrs. Knight!” she giggled.

I shook my head. “I think you’re jumping to conclusions,” I said, pushing my plate of fries toward her. “Besides, Mason and I have barely spoken since the whole Adam incident.”

Carmen looked surprised. “I didn’t think he was still hung up on that. You didn’t even kiss him.”

I let out a sigh, a wave of frustration and self-doubt washing over me. “But from his perspective, it looked like I did,” I said. “If there was nothing to hide, why didn’t I tell him?”

Carmen’s face softened, her hand reaching out to rest on my arm. “You’re right, but sweetheart, there was nothing to confess,” she said, her voice a soothing balm.

“Adam made a move, you rejected him. You’ve got no reason to feel guilty.”

“I wish Mason could see it from your perspective,” I responded in frustration.

Carmen nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “Men can be so stubborn. Maybe you should try explaining it to him again. He’s not as angry now as he would’ve been earlier. It’s worth a shot.”

I paused, the gravity of the situation weighing me down. “I suppose I’ve got nothing to lose,” I sighed. Carmen was right, I needed to talk to Mason.

“Enough about my issues,” I said, attempting to change the subject. “What about this apartment you’re checking out?”

Carmen and I spent the rest of her lunch break chatting over cappuccinos and cake. The week’s worth of gossip she had saved up for me made the time fly.

As her break neared its end, Carmen decided to walk me to my car, despite the rain pouring outside.

We stepped out of the warm comfort of the restaurant, the cool air hitting my face instantly. I opened my umbrella to shield us both, and we had just left the restaurant when we spotted Brent, stepping out of his car parked by the curb.

Before we could exchange a word, Brent was in front of us, his presence filling the air with a tangible tension. His dark eyes locked onto Carmen.

“You’re showing up at my workplace now, really?” Carmen’s voice was a blend of annoyance and disbelief.

“Nice to see you too,” he retorted, his voice low and threatening. “You’re not leaving me with many options, Carmen. I just want what’s rightfully mine. I want what you took from me.”

“And what about what you took from me?” Carmen’s voice grew louder with each word. “All the time and effort I put into our relationship. You exploited me, left me with nothing.”

“It’s called a prenup,” Brent shot back, seething with anger.

I stood next to Carmen, holding the umbrella over her. I felt awkward being in the middle of their heated argument on the street.

“You forced me to sign that thing. I didn’t have a choice,” Carmen’s voice wavered slightly.

Brent sighed, frustrated. “We all know you’re not as cold-hearted as you’re pretending to be,” he said. “One of those watches belonged to my father, Carmen. I just want that one back, I don’t care about the rest.”

There was a pause. Carmen seemed to be considering his words. Finally, she said, “Fine!” Her voice was a mix of resignation and defiance. “You can have your stupid watch. I’ll text you on my day off.”

“That’s all I wanted,” Brent said, a satisfied look on his face.

“Carmen… Carmen…” A woman’s voice echoed from the open restaurant door. Carmen turned around, her face twisting into a frown.

“Antonio is looking for you. He seems pissed.”

“I’m on my way,” Carmen responded in irritation.

“Go!” I urged. “I’ll call you later.”

Carmen hugged me quickly, shot her ex-husband a final glare, and rushed back into the restaurant. Now alone with Brent, I felt a wave of discomfort wash over me. I turned to leave.

“Jamie…,” Brent called out.

For some reason, I turned back to face him. My heart pounded in my throat, a strange cocktail of fear and anticipation coursing through my veins.

Brent moved closer. His presence was overwhelming. My skin prickled, being this close to him after everything that had happened.

“It’s strange seeing you again,” he said. I couldn’t identify the tone in his voice. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

“What’s your point?” I shot back, my defenses up.

“You’ve got some fight in you,” Brent said, his eyes gleaming with an odd intensity. “How’s Mason? It’s been a couple of years since I last saw him.”

“I’m not answering that,” I shot back. “I need to leave.”

I spun on my heel, ready to make my exit, but only managed a few steps before Brent’s hand clamped around my arm. I whirled back to face him, my heart pounding a wild rhythm against my ribs.

Something shifted when I met his gaze, something I hadn’t anticipated. Memories of him flooded back, of that night in the hotel before he tied the knot with Carmen.

A surge of sickness rolled over me as I remembered the details of that night. I could still feel the ghost of his hands exploring my body, his lips pressing insistently against my skin.

I remembered the futile struggle to push him away, and the feeling that washed over me in that moment. A feeling of complete helplessness. Just like I had felt with Adam.

Brent moved closer, his face just a breath away from mine. His exhales, heavy with the stench of cheap vodka and stale cigarettes, washed over me, making my stomach churn.

“You wrecked my marriage, Jamie. You’re going to pay for that. You know that, right?”

I stared at Brent, my heart hammering in my chest. His anger was a tangible thing, a dark cloud that threatened to consume him—and me. His eyes, filled with a twisted rage, sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

I yanked my arm free from his grip and turned to leave.

As I did, I caught a glimpse of the smirk dancing on his lips, a chilling reminder of the danger he posed.