“Okay,” I reluctantly agree. “But you’re going to have to talk to me eventually,” I warn her because whatever this is, it will need airing sooner rather than later.
Chapter 26
Olivia
I know I’m only putting off the inevitable but right now I need to get my head around the thoughts and feelings rushing through it. The sound of my phone ringing again startles me as we step into the lift.
“Sarah,” I explain. “She is clearly having a major crisis, but it will have to wait.” I am too preoccupied with my own pending crisis to deal with hers too. I feel a small pang of guilt as Mason speaks.
“She’s a florist so surely she can’t be calling to discuss blooms.”
I shrug for no reason beyond having nothing else to say. I do suddenly think that I might be able to pick up some florist’s assistant work from her as I am now unemployed. It wouldn’t be the first time.
When I step off the lift into Mason’s apartment I drop my bag onto the table and head straight into the bedroom where I strip down to just my t-shirt and pants before climbing into bed where I remain, alone, and whilst I’m relieved that Mase hasn’t followed me or demanded answers I am still a little disappointed that he isn’t there.
Try as I might sleep proves elusive as thoughts of Mia, Leo and my own life stampede through my mind. After an hour of tossing and turning I get up thinking I might be able to nod off if Mason is with me. If I am safely encased in his embrace so I go in search of him.
My search takes me as far as his office where the door is open and Mase is tapping away at a computer while I lean against the door frame and watch him for a several long seconds before he looks up and notices me.
“Hello there. Good sleep?” He wears a small frown that might just suggest that I don’t look well rested.
A shake of my head is my initial answer before I expand, “I haven’t been to sleep.”
“Oh.” There’s confusion in his voice. “Unless your sleep line was an excuse to get away from me.”
“No, really. I was, am tired, but my head is buzzing, and I just couldn’t manage to nod off.”
“So?” he asks pushing his keyboard away as he observes me cautiously.
“Come to bed with me, please?” I ask nervously.
“I thought you were tired?”
I shrug, finally entering the office, not stopping until I reach the space between him and his desk.
“I am, I think. Like I say, my head is spinning with a million different things. Maybe tired is the wrong word.”
“So, what would be the right word?” He observes the small space between us.
I shrug again, unsure which word could describe how I feel beyond confused.
“I might just need to push some of these things out of my head. You could do that,” I tell him with an embarrassed flush finding myself here, asking for sex.
“You mean I could distract you?”
I nod now which is at least a change from the shrug I seem to be perfecting. A sense of discomfort and guilt begins to wash over me as I consider that I have just asked Mason if I can use him, for sex. To take my mind off things. The counselling I have been having for the last six years had decreased in frequency, but I now decide that I might need to increase it if I am now doing this, relying on sex as some kind of crutch.
“Baby, I love distracting you, but I don’t know that this is the best thing right now. These things in your head do need to come out, so maybe you should talk about them, to me, Stop avoiding them and when they’re out in the open you’ll feel better.”
I know Mason is right. There are things I need to say, to him, and yet I am incapable of doing that just now. I’m scared, more scared than I’ve ever been and I have been really, really scared.
“I’m scared.” The words come out like a confession almost and I don’t know what to say or do now that they are filling the space between us.
“Hey.” Mason gently pulls me closer until I am sitting in his lap. “You don’t ever have to be scared, not of me, not here, you’re safe, always will be.”
The words are sincere, and I am elated to hear them, but actually hearing them scares me a little more because as much as Mase means them he can’t know them to be true, not until he knows what scares me. I wonder what I’ll do when I am no longer here and no longer safe. Yes, I need to call my counsellor, soon.
“There are things you don’t know…” I begin.
