My heart aches as a wave of untamed jealousy floors me.
What I would give to have a dad. A sibling. A mother who loved me more than herself. Mason may have lost his mother at a young age, but if even for just this one day, the day this photo was taken, the look in the woman’s eyes as she looks at her son, her hand rested on her husband’s forearm, a baby in her grasp. Even if for just that one moment they were happy, then he already had more from her than I’ll get in a lifetime from my mother. His father may stand proud—the man of the family—but his mother’s love visibly runs through each one of them like a thread, tying them all together with a simple look, the slightest touch.
Why is this hidden? Is this where he spends all his time? If I had these memories, I’d plaster them all over my home to remind me.
A bittersweet smile comes to my face. Because I do have photos like this one, us on holiday, in the back garden, trips to the zoo. Just not with my biological family.
I put the photo back into place, shutting the office door as I slip out. I grab my phone and go to Mason’s room. I pull open the balcony door and sit down on the lounger, looking out over the city.
John answers on the second ring, always there, unconditionally, no expectations.
“Hello?” his warm voice soothes me.
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Nina. How are you, darling? Maggie, Nina is on the phone!” he calls out to his wife.
Tears pool in my eyes as realisation sinks in. “I’m okay,” I hesitate.
“That’s not all that convincing. What is it, love? Do you need help with the studio this month? You know it’s not an issue.”
I smile through unshed tears, two words, and he knows, prepared to trample anything in my way.
“It’s not the studio, John, I just… you know how grateful I am, don’t you? For everything you and Maggie have done for me. I wouldn’t be half the person I am without you both. You gave me everything I could have wanted in a family. You believed in my dreams—invested in them even.” I pause, feeling silly for rambling. “If I had the choice at a do-over, to be born again into a different family, a different mum, I wouldn’t. I’d always choose the hurt that led me to you. I’m so thankful to you both, and I’m sorry I haven’t told you that before.”
“Well, that’s enough of that. You’re going to make an old man cry,” he says gruffly. “Are you sure you are okay, Nina?”
“I am. I promise.”
“Nina, hunny.” Maggie’s voice croons, my throat constricting as a fresh wave of tears spring to my eyes. God, what is wrong with me today. “You’ll be here tomorrow for lunch, I hope?”
I smile, pushing the wetness away with the palm of my hand. “Yeah.”
* * *
Something sharp digsinto my hip as I roll in the bed. My eyes slowly open in the dimly lit room, the sun almost lost to the horizon and out of sight for the day. I sit up, looking at the array of items spread on the bed.
I pick up the luxurious looking hamper, filled with washes, bath salts and perfumes.
What is all this?
My hand finds a sleek black stiletto buried under my side, and I sit up to find a beautiful beaded gold dress lying at my feet. It looks expensive. It all looks expensive. Pushing back the covers, I climb from the bed but stop short at the dresser when I see a note sat beside an ice bucket, champagne open and at the ready alongside a lone flute.
I take a deep breath, trying to dispel the unease that comes with the gifts.
Don’t make me wait, Pixie. I’ve already waited long enough.
My head tells me to leave, that I can’t be bought with gifts—money. But my treacherous heart doesn’t care. It beats fearlessly in my chest, begging me to stay. To try, for once. To be more for him.
Whatever he needs me to be.
I grasp the bottle, pouring myself a glass before I grab the hamper and head for the en suite.
I need to armour up first. If that tortured look in his eyes tells me anything, it’s that his demons like my own—won’t fight fair.
10
Nina
