I have certainly never been on a date.
A waitress approaches our table, interrupting my thoughts. She pours us a glass of water and places the bottle on our table while rattling off the breakfast specials, then leaves us with some menus before going to put our hot drink order through.
I suspect Mason’s picked up on something. Maybe he noticed me standing too close after all, or it was something else altogether, but instead of asking the questions I see in his hazel eyes, he gives me a gentle smile and grabs his menu. I follow his lead and begin scanning the meals listed.
Mason reaches for his glass of water and takes a sip, the movement drawing my attention to the ring on his finger.
“You’re married?” I ask.
How had I not noticed it before?
Mason looks up, but his demeanour changes.
The waitress stops by again with our hot drinks and takes our food order.
“I’m sorry if I—”
“No, it’s alright.” He clears his throat. “My wife passed almost ten years ago now. I guess it just never felt right to take it off.” He instinctively twists the band on his ring finger.
“I’m so sorry,” I say softly.
“It’s okay, Grace. Really,” he says.
I take a sip of my hot chocolate and place it back on the table in front of me. It’s quiet between us, and I’m not sure if it’s nerves or an urge to fill the silence, but the question slips out anyway. “What was she like?”
Stop talking, Emery.
Immediately, I regret asking. “You don’t have to answer that.”
Mason puts down his mug of coffee, and a wistful expression crosses his face. “She was gorgeous and full of life. She loved to bake, and no matter how much I grumbled that she was ruining my waistline. Watching the joy in her eyes while doing something she loved made it all worth it.” He laughs. “She was the kindest person I knew. She was my best friend,” he says, but then his eyes turn sad.
“Things changed when we lost our daughter. She took it hard. We both did. But Rachel blamed herself.” He sighs, a sound so full of pain. “Our little girl was only three months old, and Rachel could never accept that there was no reason for it. No cause. So she took that burden on herself.”
I try to find words, but any response I come up with seems inadequate.
“We dealt with our grief in different ways,” Mason continues. “She retreated into herself, where I threw myself into work. She was struggling, and I wasn’t there for her. It’s the biggest regret of my life.”He rubs his hand over his mouth. “Eventually, things became too much for her.”
“Mason,” I whisper. “It’s not your fault.” Somehow, I manage to keep the tears sitting in the corners of my eyes from falling, but I know that look. I see it every time I look in the mirror.
“I know, Grace. But it took me a long time to come to terms with that. And the fact I was navigating my own grief the only way I knew how.”
I nod in response, but part of me feels like there’s still a piece of him, no matter how small, that blames himself.
The waitress stops by with our meals, and I’m glad for the distraction. She also gives Shadow a treat, which he’s all too excited about. Mason explains Shadow usually gets a treat whenever he brings him down to grab his coffee.
Mason keeps conversation light, and I’m thankful, but I still feel bad for bringing it up in the first place.
I’m about finished with my French toast when Mason’s phone rings.
“Taylor,” he answers and listens to the person on the other end of the phone for a moment. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Standing from the table, he says, “Sorry, Grace. I have to get back to work. Stay and finish. I’ll go fix this up.”
“No, I’m ready.” I swallow my mouthful.
“Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod. “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Shadow lifts his head from his paws and tracks Mason as he walks into the café, but he doesn’t get up until I do, following my few steps to the café entrance to wait for Mason.
I linger by the door as Mason fixes the bill at the counter, and I feel bad I don’t have anything to contribute. I really need to hold on to the last bit of cash I have, but maybe I could buy him a coffee.