“Scarlet, please,” he said, his voice on the edge of begging. “Can we not do this today?”
“When, then, Mason? You’re not exactly known for facing issues head-on. Are you going to drag it out for months this time and then walk away when I’m least expecting it?”
“What does it hurt to wait instead of acting in haste or on an emotional response? I’m dealing with a lot right now. I don’t understand why you can’t give me the space I need so we can have this discussion when we’re better prepared.”
“Because...every moment I spend with you and Luna is just another memory that’s going to haunt me once you’re gone.”
That snapped Mason to attention. He looked up at her, the words surprising him. “What?”
Scarlet just shook her head and let her gaze fall to the floor. His brilliant artist, his loving wife, looked completely broken. Her tall, strong frame seemed to be swallowed by her sweatshirt, and her messy ponytail seemed more the result of stress than its usual casual ease. There were gray smudges beneath her dark eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. The last few days had obviously been harder on her than he’d allowed himself to notice. He’d been too wrapped up in himself.
“I think I’m done, Mason.”
“What do you mean by ‘done’? Do you mean done with us?”
“Yes, I’m done. I can’t handle any more of this emotional roller coaster. I can’t be with you. I can’t be in a relationship with someone that I can’t depend on. You wanted this second chance, but I feel like you’re just throwing it away, and me with it. Your brother is dead. I’m sorry. But you’re not. I feel like you’re punishing yourself for that, and punishing all of us in the process. I can’t just sit around and wait for you to decide you don’t want to do this anymore.”
Mason watched Scarlet reach for the paperwork on the counter. She flipped through it, searching for the final page. She hesitated only for a moment before she reached for a pen and signed her name on the line. Mason held his breath in his throat as he watched her go through the motions of ending their marriage. She’d always fought to stay together before, but he could tell she was tired of fighting.
“There,” she said, looking up at him with a shimmer of tears in her dark eyes. “If you’re really truly done, if you want to leave for whatever reason, I’m not going to be the one who keeps you here against your will. If you want to go, sign the papers and send them to your attorney. If you don’t, tear them up and snap out of this haze you’re in. But I’m tired of being in limbo with you, so you have to choose.”
Setting down the pen with an angry slap against the granite, Scarlet avoided eye contact with him and walked out of the kitchen.
Mason stood stunned for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Things had escalated between them faster than he’d anticipated. Apparently, his internal struggle had pushed Scarlet to the edge. Walking up to the counter, he picked up the papers and looked at her angrily scribbled signature on the last page.
Her name in ink on their divorce papers was a jarring sight. Maybe this whole exercise for Jay’s sake had just been putting off the inevitable. For a while he’d thought that maybe they could have that happy family they’d talked about and dreamed of. Now he knew it was just a pipe dream.
He and Scarlet were done. They’d been done for months. They just hadn’t wanted to admit it to themselves because the alternative was scary for them both. But it didn’t change the truth.
Mason carried the papers over to the dining room table with everything else and slammed them onto the top of the pile. One more thing to deal with.
Eleven
Scarlet stayed at the office as late as possible. She didn’t want to go home because she knew what she would find—an empty house and an empty heart. Mason hadn’t said a word to her since their discussion, but he’d returned to sleeping in her studio that night. She saw him packing up a few things from the bathroom as she left this morning. That meant he would be gone by the time she got home. And if he was gone, that meant everything she loved would be gone, too.
She knew the minute she signed those papers that she’d made the wrong choice. She had given him an out, letting him decide once and for all if he wanted to be with her or not. She was giving him the freedom to make that choice without guilt. But as she’d signed the papers, essentially giving up on him, she’d watched the expression on his face completely crumple.
Up until that moment, it was what she thought he wanted. Mason was the one who never talked about their future together in concrete terms. The moment he seemed to break down and say yes, he would commit to this marriage and this family, he seemed to take a huge step back from everything. After the funeral, he’d been more distant than he had been in the weeks leading up to his moving out the first time. It had become clear to Scarlet that he was pulling away now that Jay was gone. She’d assumed that in his mind the game they’d been playing was over.
When he pulled out those divorce papers, his response to them had thrown her completely off guard. Somehow, he was upset with her because he thought she’d been conniving behind his back to steal custody of Luna away. That was hardly the case. Did he really think she was capable of seducing him, luring him into her life, then just casting him aside once she was able to secure the baby she wanted? They’d been together too many years for him to accuse her of something like that.
Her heart had broken in that moment—what was left of it at least. There had only been fragments when he came back into her life and now there was nothing. She’d given what she had left to him and Luna.
When she walked into their home tonight—the home that had been so full of life and excitement the last few weeks—she knew it wouldn’t be the same. It would be silent. Hollow. She’d experienced that before, although it would be so much worse this time because she wasn’t just losing Mason, she was losing Luna, too. She’d given the sweet baby extra kisses this morning before hurrying out the door so Carroll couldn’t see her tears.
A rush of movement passed Scarlet’s office door, then the figure stopped and leaned back. It was April, with a perplexed look on her face. “What are you doing here? I thought you were taking some time away after the funeral.”
Scarlet could only shrug. If she opened her mouth, she would start to cry. She hadn’t told anyone about what had happened between her and Mason. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to say those words out loud. She’d spent the hours focused on going over the San Francisco opening numbers and orders for the next month.
“I am,” she managed to say.
April backed up and came into her office, sitting down in her guest chair. “What’s going on? You’re almost never in the office. Things at home must be rough. Is Mason taking his brother’s death hard?”
“You could say that. He’s also taking the divorce hard.” Once the D word slipped from her lips, Scarlet felt a rush of emotion and heat warm her cheeks. Tears spilled down her face before she could squeeze her eyes closed.
“Divorce? Wait. What happened? Oh, honey,” April continued, holding a tissue out to Scarlet.
Scarlet reached out to take it and press the thin paper to her face. It was hardly enough to hide behind, but it soaked up a few of her tears and made her feel a little better. She hated to fall apart in front of other people.
April gave her the space she needed, thankfully. She sat quietly for a few moments before she pressed Scarlet to talk again. “So tell me what’s happened.”
She crumpled the tissue into a ball in her fist and shook her head. “It’s done.”
“Was that his decision this time or yours?”
“I don’t really know.” Scarlet bit at her bottom lip. She knew how ridiculous that sounded, but it was true. She didn’t want the divorce, but she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to leave her either. Either they were staying together forever or
she was going to end it while she still had some of her heart and pride left to salvage.
“He was pulling away like last time. I could see it happening no matter how hard I tried to engage him. So this time, I pushed him instead of trying to pull him back. I thought maybe that would snap him into fighting back. Fighting to be with me or at the very least standing up and saying, ‘Relax, I’m not about to leave you every time I need some space.’ But I think I pushed too hard and he thought I wanted him gone, because he just walked away. So I guess it’s my fault. But I couldn’t sit around and wait for him to leave me in good time. I would rather the break be clean and fast.”
“Are you taking it better this time? Being clean and fast?” April asked.
“No.” Scarlet broke down into tears again. She hated April seeing her cry, but she couldn’t stop the emotion from pouring out of her even if she wanted to.
“If you don’t want this, why don’t you talk to him? Tell him that you’re just scared of losing him and you don’t really want a divorce. It’s not too late to change things.”
“He’s already moved out.”
“He’s moved out before and come back. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“The only reason he came back before was to make his brother happy. Whatever I may have thought the last few weeks were, or ended up being, it all started as a ruse. Maybe I was a fool for seeing more to it than there really was.”
April got up and came around the desk. “Give me a hug,” she insisted. Scarlet got up and let herself be embraced by her significantly smaller manager. It reminded her of the hugs from her grandmother who had been just shy of five feet tall. She gave the best hugs, though, making Scarlet feel safe and loved even when she had far outgrown her lap.
“You need to go home,” April said as they finally parted.
Scarlet shook her head adamantly. “I can’t. I can’t bear to see the house empty again. I had everything I ever wanted in my hands and I let it slip away because I was too frightened to hold on tight enough.”
“You can’t sleep here. You can stay here for a week and it won’t change what’s at home. Face your fears. Go home. Think about what has happened and see if you’re inspired to do the brave, hard thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“Going to someone with your heart on your sleeve and saying you were wrong. That you were scared. There’s no way to judge how Mason will take it, but it’s possible that he feels the same way but you two don’t know how to talk to one another. Share your feelings.”
“And what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Then you’ll have me over for drinks, we’ll have a good cry and you’ll move on knowing you did everything that you could.”
She was right. Scarlet knew she was right. With a sigh, she reached for her purse and shut down her computer. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Call me if you need me,” April said as Scarlet slipped out the door.
Her manager’s pep talk got her into her car, but it didn’t help for the long drive home through LA traffic. With every mile the anticipation built. Anticipation for what she would find at home. For how Mason would take her confession. She knew that all of that was out of her control. April was right about doing what was in her power, telling him how she felt and letting the cards fall where they may.
When the garage door opened, it revealed, as expected, that both Mason’s and Carroll’s cars were gone. There was a part of her, up until that moment, that thought she was wrong about what she would find there. That maybe Mason might’ve decided to fight for her love instead of walking away again. That instead of doing what he thought was best, he would tear up the divorce papers and say, “No, I’m not letting us throw our relationship away again, no matter what it costs us.”
Those were just the kind of heroics that happened only in movies and romantic novels. In real life, the garage was empty, the house was empty and so was the cavernous hole in her aching chest.
She opened the door, cautiously peeking into the quiet, dark kitchen. The house was perfectly still, reminding her of those days before Mason returned. With a sigh, she came inside and shut the door behind her. The silence was familiar, at least, as was the heartache. She knew how to handle that.
There was a new element to this emptiness, however, that she wasn’t so sure about. Setting her purse on the kitchen counter, she looked around. There were no glass bottles in the dish rack with Mason’s travel mug. No brightly colored plastic spoons mixed in with the other hand-washed utensils. She continued into the living room. His laptop wasn’t on the coffee table and there was no Pack ’n Play by the couch.
Her heart was pounding in her ears as she turned toward the nursery door. It was as though it was once again the closed shrine she never entered. The monument to her lost child. She knew she couldn’t let it become that way, no matter what was on the other side of the door.
She turned the knob and let the door swing open. There was nothing. Mason had taken the furniture, the toys, the clothes...nothing remained in the room but the mural she’d painted for Luna. She wished he could’ve taken that, too. Now, when she looked at it, all she could see was Luna’s toothy grin as she squealed and tried to say dolphin.
That was the moment. The moment everything changed. Scarlet knew, she just knew how all this would end. That was why she’d insisted on the nanny and the hands-off approach for both Luna and Mason. She knew her heart would get captured by the tiny child and the bumbling uncle who was in over his head. And she’d done it anyway. She’d let herself fall back in love with her husband, let herself get attached to a child who wasn’t hers, and it all fell apart.
Standing in the middle of the room, Scarlet looked up at the mural and felt her knees give out from under her. She sank to the plush gray carpet and, now that she was well and truly alone, let her grief unravel.
* * *
Mason looked out the massive window of his Hollywood Hills home at the valley below and missed the ocean more than ever. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d moved out, but it hadn’t taken him five minutes to know he’d made a huge mistake. He’d known that immediately, felt it in his bones when he walked through the front door.
He wasn’t the only one. Luna didn’t like it either. She didn’t say as much, of course, but she’d been miserably fussy lately. Carroll did her best to soothe her, but there was nothing that warm milk or her favorite toy could do. She wanted Scarlet.
And so did he.
There just wasn’t anything he thought he could do about it now. He’d promised not to run away from her, and the moment things got tough, that’s what he’d done. He hadn’t realized it at the time. As always, he’d found a way to justify what he was doing. Someone needed to handle things. And that was true. But there wasn’t so much to be done that he needed to withdraw from his wife and family.
He’d felt guilty, scared, unsure of the future, and he screwed up. Yes, Scarlet’s signing the divorce papers had hurt, but in retrospect, he realized what she was doing. She’d pushed him to see which way he would turn under stress, and he did just what she was afraid of. He bolted back to Hollywood even though it was the last thing he really wanted to do.
Mason frowned at the layer of smog blanketing the valley and shifted his gaze to the courtyard below. Carroll and Luna were playing outside. He’d already called about having a swing set put in. In the meantime, Luna was happy with the small plastic playhouse with a window and a tiny slide.
Carroll helped her down the slide and Luna broke into a wide grin as she reached the bottom. It was the first time she’d smiled since they moved here. Maybe she was starting to forget Scarlet. She was so young. It would be a tragedy, though.
The last thing he wanted to do, especially after all their prior heartbreak, was to take a child away from Scarlet. Even when faced with the knowledge that she migh
t be planning to take Luna from him, he would’ve said he couldn’t do it to her. He’d seen how devastated she was losing Evan. Although he’d blamed himself for their inability to have a child, Scarlet insisted it wasn’t his fault.
But losing Luna was his fault. He had taken her away. And just because he had every right to do it didn’t make it okay. It wasn’t what Rachel and Jay wanted. It wasn’t what Scarlet wanted. And it certainly wasn’t what he wanted. He just wasn’t certain if what he wanted was what he should have.
Climb down from the cross, Mason. We don’t need another martyr in this family.
The night before, Mason had shot up in bed in a cold sweat. He’d heard those words, his brother’s words, as surely as if Jay had been sitting on the bed speaking to him. For a moment, Mason expected to actually see Jay sitting in the chair. Then he remembered his brother was dead and gone.
Perhaps it was his conscience telling him what Jay would say if he were alive. Out of the two brothers, Mason was driven by success and Jay was driven by happiness. Oddly enough, they were both successful in their own ways, but Jay’s focus on being content had served him well. Mason felt guilty for being happy after his brother’s life had imploded, but he failed to realize that Jay wouldn’t see it that way at all. Jay would want his older brother to be happy, especially if that happiness resulted in a better life for Luna.
Jay would’ve reached out from his hospital bed and smacked Mason across the back of the head if he’d thought for one moment that Mason would sacrifice his own happiness out of guilt over Jay’s and Rachel’s deaths. He would be furious that Mason wasn’t living his life to the fullest when he was lucky enough to still have one to live.
Of course, that just made Mason feel even guiltier. He couldn’t win.
But if he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t, he might as well choose to be guilty and happy, right? Jay would say yes. Scarlet would say yes. Why couldn’t he let himself say yes, too?
The Baby Favor Page 13
