Chapter 6: Chapter 6

JAMIE

I watched Penelope, my daughter, engrossed in her play. Her tiny hands moved with precision, stacking one Lego block on top of another.

Her face lit up with a smile as she knocked down her creation, only to rebuild it again. I was told Lego was her favorite.

I’d been told a lot about Penelope. Things I should have known firsthand, if only I hadn’t lost years of my life.

I watched her, a smile tugging at my lips. But a hollow feeling gnawed at my heart. She was my daughter, yet I knew nothing about her.

Her first steps, her first words, all those precious moments were lost to me. We had to build our connection from scratch.

I yearned to know her, to understand her likes and dislikes. I wanted to be as important to her as Mason was.

Mason’s shadow darkened the room as he descended the stairs. Our eyes met briefly, acknowledging the tension that hung between us.

The memory of our kiss from the previous night lingered, complicating our relationship. It felt like he was rushing things. It was too soon for me.

I didn’t remember him, only the arrogant, womanizing Mason Knight with a knack for reckless behavior. I would never fall for a man like that…or so I used to tell myself.

Rita, our housekeeper, broke my train of thought. “Your lunch is ready, sweetheart,” she said.

Penelope got up from the floor and headed toward the dining area.

“Can I get you anything, Darling?” Rita asked, concerned.

I forced a smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”

I watched Penelope and Rita from my spot on the couch. Penelope was happily eating her lunch, her face glowing with a carefree smile. Rita, ever watchful, made sure she ate everything.

Rita was a woman of a certain age, her face marked with the lines of time and experience. Despite her years, she moved with grace and dignity.

Her dark hair, streaked with silver, was neatly tied in a bun. Her warm brown eyes held a kind and understanding gaze.

I wondered about her life, about the stories etched on her face. She seemed to genuinely care for Penelope, a comforting sight.

I glanced at Mason, engrossed in his work at the kitchen island. His serious expression contrasted with his casual attire.

Our eyes met again, acknowledging the tension between us. I felt a pang of awkwardness. This wasn’t the homecoming I had imagined.

I had hoped my memories would return, that the fog would lift, and I would reconnect with my past. But reality was far more complicated.

As Mason approached me, my heart pounded. The air between us was charged with anticipation. I wasn’t ready to address the elephant in the room.

I needed time to process my feelings, to understand what our shared moment meant.

Mason broke the silence. “Do you need anything?”

“Actually, it’s time for my medication,” I admitted quietly. “Do you mind?”

The question hung heavy in the air, reminding me of my dependence on him. I longed for independence, to care for myself without needing others.

But for now, I had to accept his help.

Mason sighed. “Right, of course. I forgot,” he said with a hint of frustration. “I should probably set a reminder on my phone so I don’t forget next time.”

I offered a weak smile. “It’s okay, I know you have a lot on your plate.”

“But, speaking of phones, I was hoping I could get a new one,” I said, my voice stronger. “I assume I had one before the accident, but I guess it’s gone now.”

Mason gave a nod, his face softening. “I can get you a new one. Meanwhile, feel free to use the house phone to call anyone. I think your old laptop might be stashed in the upstairs closet. I can go check.”

“That would be great, Mason. Thanks,” I responded, appreciating his help.

He nodded in response. “Your physiotherapist had to handle something urgent and won’t be here until tomorrow. Is there anything else you’d like to do today?”

“No, I’m fine here,” I said, perfectly happy to spend the day lounging on the couch.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t mind taking you anywhere you want to go, even if it’s clothes shopping,” he suggested, a playful smirk on his face.

I returned his smile. The thought of shopping was as unattractive to me as it was to him. I didn’t relish the idea of being wheeled from store to store, enduring the pitying looks from strangers.

But maybe some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. Plus, there was a place I’d been wanting to visit since I woke up.

***

I studied my reflection in the car mirror. My skin, pale and makeup-free, sagged on my bones. My hair, once lively and vibrant, now hung limp and lifeless. I was a shadow of my former self, a hollow shell of the woman I used to be.

How could Mason find me attractive like this? He was the epitome of male beauty, a vision of chiseled perfection. But I knew that looks weren’t everything. I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

I snuck a peek at Mason, his profile silhouetted against the car window. A wave of confusion washed over me. What was it about him that attracted me? Was it his looks, or was there something deeper, something more meaningful?

The silence in the car was thick, broken only by the soft purr of the engine. With Penelope safe at home with Rita, we were alone, an awkward tension hanging in the air from last night’s incident.

As we pulled up to the cemetery, Mason carefully guided my wheelchair along the winding path. The rocky terrain made walking a challenge, and I was thankful for his help. We stopped in front of a simple, gray marble headstone.

“Julia Rose Harris,” I read out loud. The words echoed in the quiet stillness.

The grave was decorated with fresh flowers, a testament to the love and care my father put into preserving her memory. My brother often visited this place, finding comfort in her presence. I wondered if it truly brought him peace, or if it only deepened his sorrow.

As I stared at the headstone, a wave of emotions crashed over me.

Mason’s voice was soft and understanding as he broke the silence. “Probably a dumb question, but how do you feel being here?” His gaze, heavy with empathy, met mine.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, my eyes glued to the words carved into the cold, gray stone.

Wife… Mother… Grandmother.

Each word was a stab to my heart. The reality of her absence, once distant and abstract, now felt painfully real.

“We can leave if you’re not ready for this,” Mason suggested, sounding worried.

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I whispered. “Actually, I don’t know how I feel. A mix of emotions, I guess.”

I let out a deep sigh. “Now it feels real. It didn’t before, but now it does. She’s really gone.”

Mason nodded, his face serious. “I know it’s hard. When I lost my mom, it took me a long time to accept that she wasn’t there anymore. Sometimes, it still does.”

A wave of despair washed over me. “So you’re saying I’ll feel like this forever?”

Mason’s eyes softened as he looked at me. “Right now, it’s fresh. With time, it will get easier. You’ll be able to talk about her without crying.”

I scoffed, anger bubbling up. “I don’t want to cry, Mason. Being here is making me angry. Two years she suffered, and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there when she died. I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

Mason’s voice was soft and empathetic as he shattered the quiet. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. Believe me, I’ve been in your shoes.” He crouched down, gently removing a few wilted flowers from the grave.

I sat there, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

“What’s your last memory of your mom?” he asked quietly.

A smile tinged with sadness slowly spread across my face. “I remember my mom constantly nagging me to start dating,” I shared, a laugh slipping out. “Back then, it wasn’t funny at all. She was always trying to set me up with someone. I always turned her down. I think she just wanted me to be safe.”

Mason laughed softly in agreement. “You never needed a man to feel secure.”

A more serious question formed in my mind. “Was she happy for us? I mean, did she approve of our relationship?”

My mom had always been supportive, never forcing her own desires on me. She just wanted me to be happy, no matter what choices I made.

“Your mom approved,” Mason confirmed. “Your dad, though, that took some convincing. But I eventually won him over. Your mom’s support helped too.”

A warm feeling spread through my heart. “She was always there for me, no matter what. I’m glad she approved of you.” I gave him a grateful smile.

As if on cue, the sky darkened, and a few raindrops began to fall.

“Looks like it’s going to rain. We should head back to the car before it gets worse,” Mason suggested.

Reluctantly, I agreed. We walked back to the car, the rain growing heavier with each passing moment. Despite the downpour, a sense of peace washed over me. I had faced the past, confronted the pain, and come out stronger.

***

The soft glow of the living room lamp bathed the room in a warm, comforting light. As I settled on the couch, a wave of anxiety swept over me. The memory of last night’s intimate moment with Mason hung in the air, unspoken and unresolved.

Mason came down the stairs, his casual clothes contrasting with his perfectly styled hair. “Penelope was so thrilled about you being home,” he said, a gentle smile on his face. “I’m surprised she managed to fall asleep at all.”

I returned his smile. “I didn’t want her to go to bed either. You seem to have her on a good routine.”

“Penelope makes it easy,” he responded, heading toward the kitchen. “I like routine, and so does she.” He came back with a bottle of water. “Do you want something?”

“Chamomile tea, if you have any,” I requested, hoping the calming herb would help ease my nerves.

“Chamomile, huh? Let’s see.” He mumbled as he searched through the kitchen cabinets. “I don’t know what’s in here. Rita does the shopping, and I usually just grab a few things when I’m out.” He pulled out a box of green tea. “Green tea, then?”

“That’s fine,” I replied, appreciating his effort.

A few moments later, he returned with a steaming mug of green tea. “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “My mom used to drink green tea. She’d always talk about how healthy it was. Once, I tried it before a long car trip, and I had to stop seventeen times to pee!”

Mason laughed. “Seventeen times? That’s a lot.”

“It’s true,” I insisted, a grin spreading across my face. “My brother teased me about it for months.”

“I think the tea was your mom’s,” Mason said, a thoughtful look on his face. “She used to come over all the time to watch Penelope while I worked. She insisted on being here, even when she wasn’t feeling well.”

A lump formed in my throat. “My dad doesn’t like to talk about her, so there’s a lot I still don’t know,” I confessed, playing with the cushion. “What was she like near the end?”

Mason paused, his gaze fixed on the floor. “At first, it seemed like nothing could shake her. She was living life as usual, laughing and sharing stories about you. You were all she talked about, especially during chemo sessions to distract herself from the discomfort.”

“You took her to chemo?” I asked, surprised.

“Your dad and Jake only managed a few times. It was too tough for them, seeing her in that state,” he said. He paused to take a sip of his drink. “When the doctors told her it was terminal, she took it in stride. She was prepared, and she was at peace.”

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. If only she had held on a bit longer. “How long did she survive after that?”

“Roughly a month,” he answered. “Like I said, she was prepared.”

But we weren’t. None of us were.

“I want to see my dad tomorrow,” I said, steering the conversation in a different direction. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” Mason agreed. “We’ll give him a call in the morning to let him know we’re coming.” He got up and walked over to a sideboard where a bag was sitting. He picked it up and handed it to me. “I asked Rita to grab this for you.”

I opened the bag and found a box with a brand-new phone inside. “This is wonderful. Thank you, Mason,” I said, a genuine smile lighting up my face.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I’ll jot down the numbers you’ll need so you can transfer them.”

I nodded in response, placed the phone back in the box, and set it on the side table.

“Jamie, about last night…,” Mason started, shifting the topic.

My heart rate picked up and I interrupted him before he could continue.

“We don’t need to discuss that,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I think you just caught me off guard.”

I added, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need some time to adjust to all this.”

Suddenly, Penelope’s voice rang out from upstairs. “Dad! Dad!”

Mason let out a sigh. “I should go to her,” he said, standing up from the couch, his face a blend of disappointment and understanding.

As he left the room, I was left with a sense of confusion and uncertainty.

I wasn’t ready to navigate the intricacies of our relationship.

For now, I just wanted to focus on healing and rebuilding my life.