Page 129 of Please Save Me

“Grocery shopping. They didn’t want me to come with them.” She sounded disheartened at being excluded.

But, thanks to her hormones, Mason was just as dramatic as she was beautiful.

“Did they say that directly?” I asked, sinking onto the couch beside her.

Mason wasted no time resting her head on my chest, and I kissed her hair.

“They didn’t have to,” she murmured.

So, no. If they didn’t intentionally exclude Mason, they probably told her something on the lines of she needed to relax. Which wastrue. But, helping them look good in her eyes wasn’t my goal. Especially with Cameron trying to get close to me and Dale trying to convince me to convert to his fucked up brand of christianity, I wanted to get out of Hartwood.

But, to do that, I’d need Mason to marry me instead of my brother. And, at this point, that didn’t feel like it’d be hard.

“I’llalwayswant you,” I assured her, pulling her closer.

She didn’t respond, instead she turned her attention back to the screen. “It’s hard to believe that was me.”

I shifted a little. Something about her use ofwasdidn’t sit right with me.

“Princess, that’s still you.” If memory served me right, that video was taken less than a year ago.

Mason did a World Tour that ran from January of last year to January of this one. I didn’t have much to go on, but the surroundings looked like the show she did in Texas last December. That thought was corroborated by her candy cane-esque outfit.

Her lips parted as her gaze bounced between the screen and my face. If I didn’t know Mason as well as I did, I’d swore she was yearning to relive a moment like that. But, before she could express that to me, her expression changed again, morphing into something quieter. The change was almost scary because the truly bad thoughts wereneverloud, not when it came to Mason.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be her again,” she confessed.

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as I mulled over her words, dissecting them for any hidden meanings. “Why do you think that?”

“Do you know that feeling right before you try to kill yourself?” Her words caused my eyes to bug out of my head and I bit my tongue to prevent myself from telling her that wasn’t a common experience.

Instead, I took a breath. “I can’t say I do… Care to explain it a little more?”

“It’s not like the void of nothingness that leads you to believe it’s better to be dead than alive,” she confirmed, which really didn’t help her case. “It’s like the feeling after you’ve decided you’re going to do it. Where nothing in the world can hurt you because you know it’ll all be over soon.”

No matter how this conversation went, it became abundantly clear I needed to step back from work for a bit. Obviously, no one in this house could take care of Mason if that was what she was thinking about.

“Have you been feeling like that?” I asked, trying to keep my tone non judgemental.

“No,” she answered too quickly for my liking. “But, I’ve been feeling like this a lot the last few days. Likesomethingis going to happen, and this is all temporary.”

“Maybe you’re just thinking about how you’re almost done with your pregnancy.”

She hesitated like she was considering it. Then, she slowly shook her head.

“Something in my soul says my time is done. Which doesn't feel fair because I finally have everything I'veeverwanted.”

Did she not realize that she had a say in that? Like, all she had to do was not kill herself. Contrary to what the media may believe, Mason Albright was not a piece of meat, which meant she didn’t have an expatriation date.

“Well, your soul is wrong,” I scoffed. “You have a baby who needs you now.”

I pointed toward her stomach, suddenly desperate to change the topic. I knew Mason was wrong. But, just thinking about her death was enough to make me sick.

“Does she have a middle name yet?”

Mason shook her head.

“Well, let’s think about that instead.” It was a happier topic. One I was more than willing to help with. “I think Rosemary Jane Albright has a nice ring to it.”

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