“Thank god it’s a Wednesday,” Megan adds, and they all start to laugh again.
“Thank you, girls. I will see you tomorrow,” Nina tells them.
They disappear into the elevator, and she stands in the foyer watching after them. I slide up behind her and pull her to me.
“Mase,” her voice cracks.
Fuck.
“What am I going to do?”
She turns in my arms and stares intently into my eyes, searching for a hope that’s impossible to find.
“It’s going to be okay. I promise.” I close my eyes as the words leave my mouth, knowing I’ve broken every promise I’ve made so far.
“My little studio. It’s gone. It’s not mine anymore. It was all I had, and the only thing I could say I did on my own. What do I do now? Who am I without it?”
Panic rises in my chest, the hurt in her eyes gutting me.
I can’t lie to her.
I can’t do this.
“I need to go back into the office for an hour this evening.” I pull away from her, my feet faltering as I step back. “Will you be okay here until I get home?” I pick up my keys from the tray, then bend to slide on my trainers.
“What? You’re leaving?” Tears stream down her cheeks, and I can’t bear the look she’s giving me.
“I will be an hour tops.” My throat constricts, and I struggle to pull air into my lungs. I give her a tight smile as I enter the elevator and hit the button for the garage.
Her face is a mask of hurt and confusion as the doors slide closed.
What the fuck have I done?
* * *
Nina
Thursday morning hits me hard.I wake with a headache, and I feel lower than I have in maybe ever. I was up most of the night going over in my head what I’ll do now I’ve lost my studio. Everything I came up with is impossible.
Mason didn’t come to bed last night, and he was already gone when I woke up. I don’t know what is going on with him, but he pulled away from me last night—left me when I needed him most.
Pulling myself from the bed, I shower and dress in some comfy clothes. I have nowhere to go, and the feeling is devastating.
Tears sting my eyes as I lift the sticky note from the worktop.
Call me if you need me angel
“I needed you last night, Mase,” I mutter to myself.
I wrap my arms around my body and glance around the penthouse, hating how cold the space feels without him here. Switching on every light possible, I find my phone and plug it in, moving to my spot in the window and letting loose.
As always, my dancing brings me the escape I desperately crave. But after two hours of solid dancing, I have to stop. My muscles are on fire from pushing my body to the brink of collapse.
My day went downhill from there.
I decided to make a cake. Maggie told me how easy it is and to do eight ounces of everything. I called her in a fit of tears when the sloppy mixture wouldn’t hold together. We soon figured out that I used eight eggs instead of eight ounces, but yeah, I cried over a cake.
I tried not to let it get me down, moving to the walk-in wardrobe where I rearranged my things, finally hanging up the few items I’d packed up, feeling like an imposter in somebody else’s home, but hoping it would make Mason a little happier.
