When we get back home it’s quiet. As I head straight to our room. I don’t bother saying anything as I stride in or as Mason calls my name as I head up. It’s a strained word. Like saying my name brings him pain to say. Makes it hurt more. So ignore it and close our room door. I need something to distract me before I head back down to our bar and start drinking Mason out of every possible liquor he has available till I drown out the pain. And knowing I probably can’t be trusted drunk. It’s best I don’t drink.
So I go straight to the nightstand where I have a book sitting and as my hand hovers over it I freeze. It’s the third book of the series I had been reading. But it’s also the book I was trying to read the night… the night don died. I hadn’t touched it since.
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