His eyes drift to the ceiling before coming back to me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Come with me.”
Taking my hand, he leads me from the marquee. But instead of taking me to the house, we round the side of the property, and towards the fields that lead to the meadow.
“Mase, I don’t have any shoes.”
It’s not overly cold out but the grass is getting dewy as the morning draws close, coating my feet in wet slush. “Anything to have me carry you.” For what feels like the one hundredth time tonight, he lifts me into his arms. Striding through the grass, and over to the open gate. The last time we were in the meadow together was the day that Anthony died. I know this must bring back difficult memories.
I love him so much for being here, and all the more so for being here with a grin on his beautiful face.
He stops when we finally get to the top of the hill, dropping me down and looking out over the estate. We stand side by side, taking in the eerie silence.
“You haven’t been out here in a while.”
His throat bobs on a swallow, not taking his eyes from the estate. “Maybe not as long as you think.”
What does that mean?
I’m about to ask him when he continues.
“Dad used to come sit here on the hill while we played on the lake.”
He’s someplace else right now; I don’t say a word.
“They both did, every day from the day I was born theywould walk around the grounds, until Mum got sick. I don’t remember a lot, but I remember her shouting, telling me to slow down when I would race to the lake as fast as my legs would let me go.” He sniggers. “Dad would tell her I was fine, but she always worried.” He pauses for a moment. “It was always sunny!” He looks to me in question, a frown marring his brow, as if it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world for the sun to shine. “As a kid, do you feel like it was always sunny?”
“Uh…”
“He loved the sun.” He shakes his head. “Would be out here for hours every day, and long after we went to bed.”
We stand looking over the estate, the view soothing something in the both of us. My eyes drift to the garden, still lit up with the lanterns. Scar must have forgotten about them, or she didn’t want to turn them off. Mason’s strong hand grips mine, warm but calloused.
I lick my lips, trying to decipher his thoughts and find the right thing to say. He seems lost in his own head again.
“I think in life, especially when it isn’t all that fair to us, we have a habit of clinging to the good. We feed off it, making it seem better than it actually was.”
Do we have a habit of making the good memories seem better than they had been, and the bad worse than it was? Because the bad always seems terrible looking back, but in the moment we always get through it, right?
“I don’t feel like I cling on to anything from being here,” he says. “Bad or good.”
“It was always sunny,” I state with a smile, squeezing his hand in mine.
When he finally turns and looks down at me, giving me a bright smile despite his saddened eyes, I know everything is going to be okay. “What now, my beautiful Pixie?”
I loved my Pixie then, Nina, and I love my Pixie now.
Feeling the need to lighten the mood, I look down at his shirt that I have on, then to the lake, letting my dimple pop as I bite my lip.
“It’s fucking freezing, baby.” He grins.
I take off down the hill, letting the wind whip through my hair as I run for the water’s edge. Lifting the hem, I pull the shirt over my head and chuck it to the ground, then turn, finding Mason watching me as I slide off his boxers.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
“Come with me.” I turn and wade into the water, my eyes widening when I realise how cold it is.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
“Nina, you can’t go in there,” he chuckles as he calls out to me. “It’s too cold this time of year.”
