“You don’t have to have it, but I thought you might like it.” I push open the door and let him in. “I won’t be a sec, wait out here.”
Leaving him in the living area, I go to my room and drop to my knees beside my bed, pulling out the box from under it. I never thought I’d give these to Mason, but I only really took them for his benefit. I suppose I always hoped that one day I’d be in a position to share them with him. I don’t know why I’m giving them to him now, but for some reason I feel like he should have them.
I open the lid and riffle through the things inside, silly things I shouldn’t have kept but couldn’t get rid of either. The bangle being one of those things.
With the folder I was looking for grasped tight in my hand, I walk back out to the lounge. The minute I set eyes on him again, I doubt the entire idea of showing him.
“What do you have there?”
I stare through him, licking my lips as I try to find an excuse not to show him. What is wrong with me?
“Earth to Nina.” He walks towards me, and I hold out the file, widening my eyes, amazed that I’ve even offered it to him.
He frowns and takes it. “What is it?” He must feel its weight and carries it to the kitchen island, sliding onto the chair and placing it down in front of him. He looks over to me before opening it. “Come show me.”
“It’s just some pictures.” I brush him off as if they aren’t important. “You probably wouldn’t even want to see them, but I knew I should keep them. You don’t ha?—”
“Nina.” He stops me. “Come here, now.”
I slide onto the stool next to him and he flicks over the first page, letting it drop with a thud to the counter. “I was four months. That was the day at the hospital. We cut my head out of the picture because I was being miserable, but Elliot insisted we should take the photo.”
“You had a bump?” he asks, but it comes out scratchy and he clears his throat.
“I don’t know. It all seems like such a blur now. It just looks like a little bloat.”
“How did I not notice? Surely I would have?”
“The girls noticed on holiday. They had their suspicions.”
He snaps his head towards me, his eyes glazed and wild. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was possible. I’ve always taken my pill.”
He turns the page and stares down at the pictures on the paper. “You grew fast.”
“Thanks.” I laugh.
“I didn’t mean?—”
“I know. I wasn’t looking after myself before. Once I knew I was pregnant, I made sure I fixed that. I knew I had to be better.”
He looks down at me again, his brows drawn in. “You are; better. You’re a wonderful mother.”
“I do my best. There are far better mothers I’m sure, but I’m not the worst.”
He continues to look through the photos, each one getting closer and closer to my due date.
“That one was taken just a few hours before he was born.”
“Did it ever get uncomfortable?” He flicks back a couple pages, looking at the photos again.
“At night. I found myself reading a lot more. Sleep was definitely harder than normal.”
“I can imagine,” he says in surprise. “Christ, no wonder you didn’t dance.”
“Yeah, there was no way.” I chuckle.
Flipping over the last page, I cringe, wondering why I even put the photo in. I had completely forgotten it was in there.
