Page 107 of Please Save Me

When I reached the door, I nudged it open with my foot, careful not to spill breakfast all over the floor. My curtains had been opened, letting daylight fill the room. Mason was in bed, propped up on the pillows with a book in hand. Her eyes slowly drifted up as I entered, and I tried to ignore the fact that she had obviously just finished crying... again.

“Buenos días, mi esposa,” I greeted lightly, leaning against the door to shut it. Mason’s gaze instantly snapped back down to her book—tough crowd.

“I made you breakfast,” I explained as I crossed the room. Mason looked up and hesitated for a beat before placing her novel on the nightstand.

She scooted up to sit a little straighter, and I popped the legs on the tray out before placing it across her lap. She looked down at the tray, barely acknowledging my existence.

“Arepas con queso and huevos pericos. My mom used to make it on the weekends. It’s comfort food.” At least to me, it was.

She nodded, and by her lack of thank you, I realized just howmuchI had messed up. Mason wasn’t good with loud sounds or strong emotions; both overwhelmed her in ways I couldn’t process, and I sprung them on her first thing in the morning. To top it off, when I left, she was inconsolably crying.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple, realizing I probably caused her to have a meltdown just after waking up. God, I was the worst husband in the world.

“Can I sit with you?” I asked.

She hesitated for a beat before nodding once, her eyes still glued to her lap. I took a seat on my side of the bed, careful not to touch her.

“Is it going to bother you if I talk?”

She shook her head, now picking at the eggs.

“You didn’t deserve to be woken up like that.” What was I, stupid? Everyone in the house knew Mason didn’t deserve to be screamed at. “I just... I wasn’t in a good mood, and I snapped, and you just happened to be there.”

Mason stilled but didn’t look up. The fork in her hand trembled slightly as she choked on a breath, and I realized I was on the fast track to making her cry again.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, hoping to erase my terrible first attempt. “I don’t need you to accept my apology or talk. All I need is for you to know I regret this morning, and it won’t happen again.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders squared, and she shot me a look. To most people, it might have meant nothing, but this was my wife. She didn’t need to speak for me to understand her. Just by the way she looked at me, I could tell she was thinking it better not happen again.

She scooped up a full bite of the eggs before placing the fork in her mouth. Her eyes lit up as she swiped a tongue across her lips.

“Good?” I asked, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction.

My mom was a saint of a woman. She was kind, smart, and probably the best cook the world had ever seen. Before she got too sick to work, her family owned a restaurant back home in Guatapé, with recipes passed through generations. Normally, huevos pericos were just scrambled eggs with tomatoes and green onions, but my mom always made them a little differently.

She liked her scrambled eggs softer, so she always added a good amount of butter and sour cream. This made the eggs soft, silky, and so rich that they practically melted in your mouth. With the extra flavor from the tomatoes and onions, her huevos pericos were pretty much out of this world.

Mason feverishly nodded as she continued eating. With that taken care of, I decided to get a little more comfortable. I sprawled out on the bed, laying down beside her and placing a hand on her stomach. It felt like my hand had pretty much been glued there recently. If we weren’t working or having sex, I was feeling the baby kick. After a moment of my hand resting on Mason’s belly, Rosie got fed up with me bugging her and started kicking at my palm.

“Ugh, I just want her here already,” I groaned before remembering that Rosemary was very adamant about coming sooner rather than later. “And by ‘already,’ I mean on the day she’s scheduled to be here and no sooner.”

My comment caused a snort of Mason’s laughter to fill the room, and I reveled in the sound. It was no understatement to say I would have moved heaven and earth to see this girl happy.

“I hope you realize that once Rosie’s here, you’re going to have to fight her away from me,” I said, bringing my face a little closer to Mason’s bump. “Ilovenewborns.”

They were just soft and squishy; even their little cries were cute. Sure, they didn’t sleep for shit, but I missed when the twins were that little. Everyone told me the newborn phase was the worst, but they clearly forgot about the freshhorrorknown astoddlers.

I looked up to see Mason smiling at me as she softly played with a strand of my hair. Somehow, she was even prettier when I was high—but if I told her that, I’d be in a lot of trouble. Realistically, no one in this house wanted me to relapse; why would they? But I was already intoodeep to stop.

Getting sober wasn’t an option until Rosie was here. It wasn’t like I could tell anyone I casually decided to do drugs again. And I couldn’t risk stressing Mason out by snapping at her again. So, all I could do was focus on keeping her happy now.

“So, I’ve brought you breakfast. What else do I need to do to be forgiven?” I asked, sitting up just enough to rest my head on Mason’s chest.

Her heart was slow and steady like a lullaby meant to soothe the chaos of my mind. She continued to play with my hair, and I closed my eyes, soaking in the calm aura radiating from her. The room was silent except for the sound of Mason’s fork hitting the plate and the occasional crunch as she bit into an arepa. God, this woman was my happy place. All I wanted was to bask in the sun with her and the kids, but I’d have to wait until summer for that. Luckily, marriage lasted a long time, and I didn’t have to rush anything.

“I’mserious.” My voice came out rough, and that’s when I realized I was close to falling asleep. “You name it, I’ll do it. No price is too high for your forgiveness.”

Knowing Mason, she probably wanted head or a new book. Those seemed to be the only things she ever asked for... well, those and snacks, but I’d already fed her, so that was off the table. Her fingers paused in my hair, and I met her gaze.

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