“Ellis. Your wife.”
“When she first passed, Mason and Scarlet would play on the lake while I sat here. So she could watch them with me.”
“It’s perfect.” Tears fill my eyes—there’s no controlling them—and I try to blink them away.
“It is, isn’t it.” He picks at the grass, rolling it between his fingers then letting it go in the light breeze. “Scarlet will never leave, and that fills me with so much joy, but I always hoped Mason would end up back here one day. That maybe I’d see my grandchildren play on the lake, and I could sit on the hill and watch them with her. Like we watched our children.”
I roll my lips, not knowing how to reassure him when his life seems so uncertain. “I have faith in him, faith that he will come around. Deep down he loves it here.” I grasp my collarbone, closing my eyes briefly as I process that lie.
Does Mason love it here? Maybe that’s something I can talk to him about.
“I wish that were true, Nina.” He smiles warmly at me. “You’re good for him, I can see that. Scarlet even more so. She’s left me alone twice this week to dogirly lunch.” He bumps me with his shoulder, lightening the mood.
“She is incredible. They both are.” I grin, feeling my dimple pop.
“What brought you out here today anyway?” he asks.
“I lost my job.”
“Ah, yes. The studio.”
“How do you know about that?”
He frowns. “Scarlet, she mentioned it had been sold. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, I’m gutted about it. I’m looking for somewhere new, though, and something will come up.”
“Good things come to us when we are least expecting them, Nina. Believe in that, and you will be just fine.”
I replay Anthony’s words in my head as we sit on the meadow together for over an hour, taking in the scenery. No conversation needed—just the sun on our backs and the hope for better days.
TWENTY-FIVE
Nina
Ifeel refreshed when I leave Lowerwick. It made me see that there are so many more important things in life than the studio. Seeing Anthony and the poor health he has right now, it makes me realise that sitting around and wallowing over my misfortune won’t make a difference. You have to get out, do something. I plan to explore all my options over the weekend so that when Monday comes, I’m ready to get my shit together.
I have to stay positive.
Mason’s been on my mind all afternoon, and being at his childhood home made me feel closer to him. He’s distant right now and it’s hard to understand his headspace, but I want to make things okay between us.
Pulling out my phone, I call him, hoping he will answer.
“Angel,” he says down the phone, his voice smooth and comforting.
I smile wide at the endearment. “Hey.”
Silence stretches between us, and I worry I should have just waited until I got home to talk. I just missed him.
“Sorry I didn’t call today. It’s been busy in the office,” he tells me.
“You don’t need to apologise, it’s me who should be sorry. I know you have a lot on right now, and I should be better. I was a little emotional last night, and I was deflecting my own problems.”
“What?” he says, sounding confused.
“It’s just a job,” tears fill my eyes, and I fight to keep my voice steady. Do I even believe my own words? “I will find something else, and I will work at making it just as good. But I shouldn’t be dragging you down into my mess, it’s not your fault and you have enough going on.”
He clears his throat. “Can we talk about this when I get home, babe? I’m nearly there.”
