He put his hand on his chest. “And I tried to tell you about Chapel Hill. I swear I did. But I wanted it to be the right time when we could discuss it and make a plan. I didn’t want you to think I was just leaving town and things were over for us and then—”
“And then things were over anyway,” I filled in.
He kissed me again. “But I don’t want things to be over. And I have all these thoughts about how to make this work.”
I nodded, because I had all these thoughts too.
He ran his hands up and down my arms. “Daisy, I’m so, so sorry about Maisy,” he said, tears pricking his eyes, which, of course, made them fill mine too. I shook my head, and he pulled me close to him again, resting his chin on my head. “I know how much you love her, and I told Cheryl how great a mother you would be.”
I squeezed my arms tighter around him. It was so hard to say goodbye. But knowing that Mason believed in me, that he fought for me even when things between us were hard, helped.
“Mason,” I said into his chest. “I want to move.”
He pulled away, looking truly shocked. “But your job and your town house and—”
I shook my head. “My town house is month-to-month, I thrive working at a Level One trauma center, and, even if there wasn’t you—which I decidedly hope there is—giving Maisy back to Sarah and Drew was so hard…” I trailed off, trying not to cry again. “I think I need a fresh start,” I said, my voice wavering.
“I’m so sorry, Daisy,” he said, wiping my cheek with his thumb. “I know how much you wanted to adopt her.”
I swallowed my tears, trying to be brave. I nodded. “I did. But it just wasn’t meant to be.” I shrugged and he kissed my temple, pulling me to him again with authority.
“For what it’s worth, I’m going to miss the hell out of her too,” he said into my hair.
It was my turn to pull away. I pinned on that fake smile I’d practiced in the mirror, and realized it felt just a little bit real as I said, “You know where there’s a great NICU?”
He laughed. “I hope you’re going to say Chapel Hill.”
I nodded.
His smile faded, and Mason said, “Daisy. You’ve been through a lot today. Why don’t you take a beat—”
“I’m sure,” I interrupted.
He swept me up in his arms and kissed me hard. “You are so amazing to do this for me.”
I scrunched my nose. “Kind of. But I can’t bear the thought of living in a place where I had Maisy without Maisy.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
“Also, I hate running into Julie every minute. I want to heal our relationship, and I have a hard time doing that when she just pops up.”
He nodded. “Okay. Lots to unpack there. Save it?”
“Save it.”
A shadowy figure rushed toward us backstage, and I wondered if we were being too loud. But then I realized who it was: George. He looked out and said, “Damn. My plane was delayed, and I missed opening night.”
“It was very dramatic,” Mason said, clapping him on the back. “But, hey, there’s always tomorrow.”
George watched Tilley glide across the stage for a moment. “She’s something, isn’t she?”
“Oh, she sure is,” I said, thinking of how I knew without even asking that she had arranged tonight down to the nth degree. Just like Dolly Levi would have.
“Do you think playing a character who finally has the courage to move on from her husband’s death will make her feel a little more warmly about taking a chance on me?” George half joked.
Mason pointed toward a closed door and said, “Her dressing room is right there. Only one way to find out.”
Mason and I raised our eyebrows at each other.
