Chapter 7
I was completely absorbed in the sketches.
“Dear. Hey–dear!”
Mason had called my name three times before I finally heard him.
“We’re home.”
I blinked, closed the file, and slid my phone away before quietly getting out of the car.
He’d called me dear. It’s been a long time since he’s called me that.
As soon as we walked in, I made a beeline for the shower and stripped off the evening’s entire performance piece–heels, jewelry.
flawless makeup, every inch of it
The water hit my skin, and I could finally breathe again.
Back in my room, I powered up my tablet to revisit Rolin’s proposal–details, requirements, deadlines.
But then I noticed something that shouldn’t have been there.
Mason
Already in my bed, changed into sleepwear, lying there like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re sleeping here tonight?”
I raised an eyebrow, trying not to sound too annoyed.
He looked at me, expression unreadable. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re still my girlfriend.”
Oh great. That tone again.
I closed the tablet with a sigh and got into bed.
Mason fell asleep quickly.
I, on the other hand, tossed and turned for what felt like hours.
It had been nearly six months since we last slept in the same bed like this.
Funny how once you get used to sleeping alone, having someone else there just feels… off.
Eventually, I gave up and tried to sneak out to grab some melatonin.
But before I could even get my feet to the floor, his arm shot out and pulled me back down.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t sleep–just getting some sleeping pills.”
“You can’t sleep next to me without taking pills now?
His tone was sharp, offended. He turned his face away
and let me go.
Then–slam..
He got up and stormed out of the room, the door rattling behind him.
This wasn’t the first time he pulled this kind of dramatic exit.
Back when he used to come home drunk all the time, I complained once. Just once.
Told him the stench of alcohol made it hard for me to fall asleep.
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The next day, he moved all his stuff into the guest room
As if the problem was the drinking
He knew exactly why I was mad.
It wasn’t the alcohol.
It was that Chloe was the one who brought him home that night.
“Sorry, Sabrina,” she had said with a sweet smile, not looking the least bit sorry. “Mason only drank so much because he was shielding me from the clients.”
She said it like it was a badge of honor.
And the way she looked at me
smug, triumphant.
I could even see the smudge of her lipstick and foundation on the collar of his shirt.
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