Page 60 of Monsters

“Okay then, I’ll see to it soon.”

Charlie inhaled sharply, torn between answering the phone and dealing with me. “You’re a cow!” he scoffed, making a hasty exit before he missed the call. I watched through the glass as Charlie sat at his desk, headset on, flicking through files on his computer while he conversed with the caller. Reluctantly my eyes gravitated to the gift, its obnoxious purple bow making my fingers tap nervously on the table. Its mere presence was offensive, and I had no idea why.

Inhaling sharply, I sat forward.

Exhaling heavily, I stood and rounded the desk, my eyes trained on the gift.

I caressed the soft silkiness of the bow before giving it a gentle pull and unraveling it. Removing the lid, a layer of purple tissue paper covered the contents. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until my head grew faint. There’s something to say about gut instinct, and everything about this ‘gift’ was off.

Carefully moving the paper on either side, I frowned at what I finally saw.

Photos.

“What the hell?” I mouthed, studying those who had been captured without knowledge.

Numb, I flicked through the images of Peter.

Peter kissing a blonde woman on the neck while walking down a street.

Peter feeding the same woman a forkful of dessert in a candlelit restaurant.

Peter kissing the woman in the park, crushing his mouth to hers.

Peter with the mystery blonde naked in a bedroom, straddling his lap, long legs wrapped around his waist, head thrown back in ecstasy.

We need to talk, had been his message.

I could now see why.

After the last photo was a note. Swallowing the bile, I opened it.

You always miss what’s right in front of you.

It wasn’t signed, but I knew who it was from.

Tears of anger more than hurt ran down my cheeks taking turns to drip on the paper. The drops exploded on impact and spread into moisture circles.

Mason’s fascination with my life knew no bounds. He was an unstoppable force.

A voice outside my office stirred me into action. David’s relieved voice edged closer as I hurriedly returned the photos to the box and replaced the lid, my hands trembling and clumsy.

“Gemma,” he called. “You have no idea how much this place has missed you.”

Before I turned, I swiped at my wet cheeks and mustered a smile.

“Thanks for being so understanding,” I said meeting his expectant gaze.

His own smile faded, a frown forming. “Are you crying? You’ve only been back for ten minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” I dismissed. “It’s been a long week.”

“It’s Monday!”

I couldn’t muster the energy to respond, my mind drifting to my current predicament and how I was going to deal with Mason.

His volatile and unpredictable nature.

His insertion back into my life.

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