“Thank you.” I smile, not missing the fact Mason’s receptionist is now in fact, a male.
Once I hang up, I think about Mason at the estate and how much he hated it the last time we went. The image of him at the door, not wanting to even enter past the threshold.
“Maggie!” I interrupt in a panic.
“Yes, darling?” She frowns as she spins around, both her and the estate agent looking at me in wonder.
“I need your car. I have to go.”
* * *
The gravel seemsto crunch louder than usual under my trainers as I jump from the car. I don’t bother closing the door, my feet carrying me subconsciously past the ambulances and multiple vehicles littered around the circular drive. I take the steps two at a time and push open the main doors, propelling myself into their hell.
Soft purple locks lay in a curled mass against Elliot’s chest. It’s all I can see. And it has tears springing to my eyes and falling to my cheeks within a split second.
“No!” I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “No.”
“Nina,” Charlie mutters, putting himself in front of me and trying to pull me into an embrace. I look around him: Scarlet, Elliot, his parents, Charlie and Lance.
Everybody but my Mase.
“Where is he?” I ask to anyone and no one, my eyes a blur.
“He needed some air, but I don’t know where he went,” Vinny mutters, stepping out from the kitchen and into the hall.
When did Vinny get back?
“Scar?”
Her sad eyes meet mine, and her head tilts to the side as her body rocks into Elliot’s.
More tears start to fall as we look between each other in understanding. “I’m so sorry, Scarlet.”
“Go find him.” She sniffs, before hiding her face back in Elliot’s chest.
I turn and leave through the open doors, taking off on a sprint around the house and across the first field.
He hasn’t made it to the meadow when I catch sight of him, still trudging toward the last gate.
I start to run faster, my limbs aching, knowing I need to get to him.
I reach the meadow and climb the gate.
“Mase!” I call, watching as he walks toward the hill.
“Mason!” I cry, my tears falling without restraint. He either can’t hear me or he’s not listening, too inside his own head. And I know how that feels—wanting to run away and shut the world out.
I continue running for him, knowing I just need to hold him, be with him.
I’m almost to him when he crumbles, falling to his knees onto the damp grass in his immaculate grey suit. “Mase, baby.”
I round on him, dropping to my knees in front of him as he lands. “Mase.”
Grasping his head in my hands, I try to pull his face down to mine, but he holds it firm, his body too powerful to control as he stares up at the sky.
“He’s gone.”
“Baby,” I whisper, standing so I can see him, cradling his face in my hands.
