by Nikki Ash
“And you don’t want to do that?” Tristan questions, his tone completely free of any judgement.
“I do! Fuck, man. That’s not the problem. I want to take care of her. I want to make her happy. I thought I would hate it, resent her for it, but I don’t. Knowing she’s happy does some shit to me I can’t even explain. But what happens when she’s not happy? Because let’s be real…it’s a possibility. She’s already been through one divorce. And look at my mom. My dad couldn’t make her happy…I couldn’t make her happy. And over twenty years later, my mom still isn’t happy. So what happens when I can’t make Mila happy? What happens when I can’t take care of her?”
Even to my own ears, I sound fucking crazy but I can’t stop the words from vomiting out. “You know where it’s going to leave me? Dying alone. Only, I will have known what it’s like to be loved by Mila and I’ll be fucked.”
Tristan stands up and walks around to the other side of the counter and looks me dead in the eye. “You’re right.” He nods, and I flinch at his words, not expecting him to agree with me. “You’re absolutely right. You can do everything in your power to take care of Mila and her son. You could move heaven and earth to make her happy, and in the end, she can still leave you. I’ve told you this before. Nothing in life is guaranteed. But you can’t live your life with that mindset—waiting to fuck up. Waiting for her to leave you. All you can do is wake up each day and love the fuck out of your wife. You make the best choices you can, and if it’s meant to be, it will be. Stop focusing on the negative and focus on the positive.”
Fuck, I know he’s right, but it’s so goddamned hard. Since the day I turned eighteen, everything I’ve ever done has been in my control—from moving to Las Vegas, to training at Cooper’s Gym, to choosing to move to California. Every woman I slept with and kept at arm’s length was my choice. Every person I choose to hang out with. Every decision I make only affects me…until now. I swore to myself I would never be vulnerable again. The day my mom was arrested, and for the years following, nothing was in my control. Where I lived, who I lived with. I was a burden to my mom, to the state, to my foster parents. I learned to only depend on myself and to never put myself in a situation where I’m responsible for someone else’s happiness. But here I am, and I know no matter how hard it is, no matter how scared I am, I can’t walk away from Mila.
“Just know when you feel like you’re alone in the dark, I will be here. I will always be your light.”
Needing her light, I grab my phone and excuse myself to call Mila. She picks up on the first ring. “Mason.” Her voice is cold and harsh, and my stomach drops.
“Mila, what’s wrong?”
“I looked at my bank account when paying the bills today. Why is there two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in there?”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Jesus, woman, you scared me. I thought I did something wrong.”
“Why is there two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in there, Mason?” she asks again.
“That’s from the interview. Kenny told you they would be transferring the money over.”
There’s a moment of silence and then Mila says, “I-I didn’t know it was that much. I’m not taking all that. I’m not even the famous one. I’m just the woman who got drunk and convinced you to marry me.”
Now it’s my turn to be silent. I know she didn’t mean it as a dig but it still hurt. “Can we talk about this tonight? I was calling to see if you’re going to practice.”
“I can’t. I need to make Alec dinner and get some laundry done. I’ll see you at home.”
“Okay.” I go to hang up but before I do, I add, “I love you, Mila.” It’s the first time I’ve said the words to her since I admitted to her the weekend of the fight I’d fallen in love with her, and I’m not sure why I pick now to say them again. Maybe it’s knowing she’s upset with me, and I can’t show her how I feel. Maybe it’s because I feel her pulling away. I don’t know.
“I love you, too, Mason. I’ll see you when you get home.”
We hang up and my phone immediately rings. Assuming and hoping, it’s Mila calling back, I hit the green circle accepting the call. “Mila?”
“No, who’s Mila?” The voice is low and raspy, definitely a woman’s voice, and even after not hearing it for several years, I know right away whose voice is on the other end of the line.
“Mom.”
“I was given your number from your attorney…” She sounds scared, and flashbacks of my past surface.
“I told him he could give it to you. Is everything okay?”
“I…um…never mind. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry.”
The line goes silent and I pull up my recent calls list and click on the number she called from to call her back. It rings several times and then a man answers.
“Hello? My mom called from this number?”
“Sorry, this is a public phone.” Shit, they still have those?
“Is there a woman in the area?”
“Nope. There’s no woman around here.”
“Okay, thank you.” I hang up, and take several calming breaths to stop myself from punching something. I know my mom is hurting. I could hear it in her voice. I imagine she’s too old now to have sex with guys for money, but then again, the guys she was with would probably screw anything with a hole. I have no idea where she’s living or how she’s surviving, and instead of letting me in, trusting me to help her, she would rather suffer. She resents me so damn much, she would rather live in and out of jail than allow me to take care of her.
I walk through the door, dirty and smelling of clay from the baseball field. The house is dark and silent. I drop my bag to the ground by the door and make my way down the hall. I stop by Alec’s room and peek in to find him fast asleep. When I get to our bedroom, Mila is already in bed. Her breathing is even but I know she’s not asleep because she’s not snoring. Adorable fucking woman swears she doesn’t snore but she does, and I love it. It reminds me she’s sleeping next to me every night.
I jump in the shower and when I come out, I find her in the same position she was in when I first walked in—and still not snoring. I plug my phone in to charge and lay down on my side of the bed. I wait a few seconds just to make sure she’s definitely not snoring, and when I don’t hear anything, I bring my arm around her waist and pull her into me, rolling her over in the process so she’s forced to face me.
“Mason! What’re you doing?” Mila shrieks. “I was sleeping!”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yes, I was.” She glares.
“Nope, and even if you were, I still would’ve woken you up,” I point out, and Mila huffs. “We agreed. No going to bed angry.”
“Whatever,” she murmurs, and I pull her closer.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t want anything from you, especially your money.” Her words are watery and I can tell she’s doing her best to keep her emotions in check. “I already went to the bank and transferred it all to you.” Tears spill over and flow down her face. She rolls away from me and off the bed, hightailing it to the bathroom and closing the door before I can even get a word in.
I follow after her and knock on the door. “Mila, come out please. I don’t know what’s going on but we’re still married and our vows said we don’t go to bed angry, so I’m not going to bed until we discuss this.” When she doesn’t respond, I slide down the door, the back of my head hitting the wood.
“Mila, you promised to lead. I need you to talk to me, please,” I beg, needing some guidance here. I have no clue what happened, and my emotions are already all over the damn place from hearing from my mom. I’m not sure I can handle letting down two women in one day.
As I sit on the other side of the door, I can hear her soft sobs and they remind me of my mom. All the times our electric would get shut off and she wouldn’t have the money to pay it. She didn’t know I could hear her crying, but I did. Or after she would get home from wor
k and I would hear her in the shower crying for god knows how long. Sometimes all it would take was me doing or saying the wrong thing. She would bawl her eyes out until she passed out in bed. Like the naïve child I was, I would constantly ask her what she needed, what I could do to make it better, and she would tell me there was nothing I could do. I always felt so helpless. I was hoping so fucking badly when I heard her voice today she was going to let me help her. Of course she didn’t.
“Mila, please baby,” I plead. “Talk to me.” I hear the lock on the door click and it opens, the hard wood leaving my back. I get up off the ground and she’s standing there, looking sad with her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
“I was paying the bills and saw way too many digits in my bank account.”
“That’s the payment from People Magazine.”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for each of us?”
“No, two hundred and fifty total. I’m not that popular.” I chuckle. “I don’t need that money. I had them give it all to you.”
“Mason.” She sighs. “I don’t want—” I cover her lips with my fingers before she can finish her sentence.
“That’s all you were upset about? Having too much money in your account?”
“That’s a lot of money, Mason! I thought maybe you were paying me off...”
“Paying you off?” I ask, confused as fuck.
“You know… like you were going to divorce me.”
I pull her over to the edge of the bed and into my lap then I kiss her hard. “That’s not happening. That money is from the interview, and tomorrow morning it will be back in your account.”
“Minus the money for the car.”
“The car was your wedding gift.”
“Ugh! I would argue but I know you aren’t going to let me win,” she says giving in.
“Damn right.” I pull her face down to kiss her again. “And now that we’ve gotten the not going to bed angry vow covered, let’s move on to our other vows…” I waggled my eyebrows. “Like the out of this world sex.”
Thirty-Four
Mila
“Run! Run! Run!” Alec is screaming next to me at Mason as he rounds second base then third. “Go home!” he screams, jumping up and down as Mason runs toward home plate. Their team made it to the playoffs and then to the championship, and if Mason gets this homerun, they will be the champions. The player in the outfield throws the ball to the catcher, and as Mason slides into home, hands first, his helmet flies off his head as the catcher leans down to tag him. Their heads collide—the catcher’s hard helmet to Mason’s helmetless head—and the crowd gasps at the loud cracking sound they make.
“Oh shit!” Alec yells, and while I should probably scold him for cursing, I’m too busy running toward the field to see if Mason is okay. He’s lying on his back, his eyes closed.
“Call 911!” someone shouts. Tristan and several of the guys are kneeling around Mason’s unconscious body. I drop to the ground beside him and fall into nurse mode, my fingers checking for his pulse. Then I open his mouth to make sure his airway is open and he’s breathing.
“Should we try to sit him up?” Gavin asks.
“No, he could be injured.” My fingers glide down the side of Mason’s face. “Mason, please wake up,” I beg. His eyelids flutter slightly. “Mason,” I say again, “Wake up.”
The sounds of the ambulance fill the air, and a minute later, two EMTs are running over to us with a stretcher. I explain to them what happened, then they carefully put a neck brace on Mason and turn him over enough to get a sheet under him. Once they have him ready, they transfer him onto the stretcher, and as they’re locking him in, Mason’s eyes groggily open. He tries to sit up but the EMT tells him what happened and to remain still. He could have a neck injury. A spinal injury. He could have a concussion. Brain damage. He could be paralyzed. My mind ticks down every possibility as I follow them to the ambulance.
Once they have him loaded, they let us know which hospital they’re taking him to. Charlie offers to take the kids home but Alec throws a fit. “I’m not going home! I need to go to Mason. Mom, please.”
“I’ll bring Alec,” Gavin offers, “that way if he needs to wait in the waiting room, I can sit with him.”
“Thank you.” I’m already heading to my vehicle when Tristan grabs my hand.
“Leave your car here and I’ll drive you. You’re shaking.” He lifts my hand up and sure enough, I’m trembling like crazy.
“Okay,” I agree.
We arrive at the hospital and go straight to the front desk to get any information available. “I’m Mila Street, Mason’s wife.”
The woman at the front desk types something in on the computer. “It shows here you are Mason Street’s emergency contact and next of kin. Can you come with me to fill out a couple of forms while he’s being checked out?”
I answer as many questions about Mason as I can, and what I can’t, I call Tristan over to see if he knows. Once she thanks us and lets us know as soon as he’s allowed to have visitors, she’ll call us, we join Gavin and Alec in the waiting room.
“Do you know when Mason added me to his forms?” I ask Tristan.
“Probably this week. He had to update everything for the upcoming fight.” This information has me stunned. So many times I’ve questioned if he really is all in, especially when that money ended up in my bank account, but him adding me as his emergency contact and next of kin tells me that he really is in this for the long haul.
What feels like ten hours later—but is really only an hour—we’re taken back to Mason’s room. Gavin stays in the waiting room but Alec comes with Tristan and me. Mason’s lying in a hospital bed, wires hooked up to him, and his eyes are closed. There’s a nurse standing next to his bed, writing his numbers down.
“Mason,” I cry out. He opens his eyes and looks at me, and I breathe a small sigh of relief. “What did the doctor say?”
“They brought me back for a CT scan and did a concussion examination. The doctor also checked me for any spinal injuries. I’m fine. Probably have a concussion, so I’m stuck here for a few hours. My head is pounding and hurts like a bitch,” he complains. When he looks over and sees Alec standing there, he says, “I mean it hurts really freaking bad.”
“Do you need more pain medication?” the nurse asks him.
“Yes,” he whines, “I feel like death.” I cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing because an injured Mason is such a baby.
Relieved he’s okay, I take a play from his book. “You should be used to the pain…you’re a fighter. Don’t you get hurt all the time?”
Mason scoffs. “No, that would be the other guy. I always win.” Tristan cackles and Alec fist bumps him.
“Yeah, Mom, Mason doesn’t get hurt,” Alec adds agreeing with Mason. “He’s too tough.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, man,” Tristan says. “I’m going to head outside to call Charlie. You know how she is about hospitals. She went home with the girls to wait and see if she should come up.”
After hanging out with Mason for a little bit, I insist Alec goes home with his dad. He’s not thrilled but we aren’t sure how long it will be before they release Mason. Tristan hangs around since he’s the only one out of the three of us with a vehicle. A few hours later, the doctor prescribes some pain meds for Mason and has the nurse print out his discharge papers. With instructions to get some rest and to return if he experiences any symptoms such as dizziness, fatigue, vomiting, nausea, or ringing in his ears, we leave the hospital. Tristan drops us off at my vehicle and we agree to pick up Mason’s car tomorrow. When we get home, he holds me close and I thank God he’s okay and healthy. I’ve already lost both my parents. I don’t know what I would do if I lost Mason too.
Thirty-Five
Mila
“Have a seat, Mila.” Dr. Burrows stands from behind her desk and gestures toward the chair on the other side. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Dr. Banks has decided to take an early ret
irement. Because we aren’t in a position to hire anyone new, unfortunately we don’t have a choice but to let you go.”
I knew when I was hired there was a ninety day trial period but I didn’t actually think I would be let go. Doing the math in my head, I figure out I’m only a couple days away from the ninety-day mark. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh no. You are a wonderful nurse, and if it was up to me, I would keep you on. The problem is that the other nurses have been here longer and you’re still in your ninety days. I’m so sorry.” She hands me a sheet of paper. “I wrote a letter of reference for you, and please, if you need to use me when filling out any applications, do so.”
She stands up and sticks her hand out to shake mine. I shake hers as well, silently cursing her and this practice, but on the outside smiling because I will need to use her as a reference when I apply for other jobs.
Since Alec is with his dad for the night, I head straight to the hospital to speak to the Human Resource department hoping they’ll have something open. Becky, the HR manager tells me they’ve already found my replacement but has me fill out a new application to keep on file in case there’s an opening in the future.
Feeling defeated, I head home. I’ll have to hit the pavement tomorrow in search of a new job. I have the money from the magazine shoot, but I used the majority of it to finally pay off my student loans, credit cards, and my mortgage. I was hoping to put some away for Alec’s college. Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have used that money to try to get ahead. Now I’m debt free but without an income.
When I step into the house, I hear Mason talking to someone. His voice is angry and feral, the opposite of his usual patient and easy going voice. I’ve never heard him speak like this, and it kind of scares me.
Mason
My mom never did call back that day, or the day after, or the day after that. But you know who finally did call me? My attorney, to let me know my mother had contacted him and asked if he could get her pimp out of jail. Apparently he was arrested for possession with intent to sell and is currently sitting in a holding cell trying to find representation. And instead of calling me so I could help her get away, she called my fucking attorney.
