I’ve waited long enough for this kind of happiness.
I’m ready to get started on ever after with the man I love.
Chapter 22
Lark
Date Six
The moment I check my text messages, I know something is wrong.
I know something is really wrong when I call Aria on the way out of the city, and my sister refuses to tell me what’s happening over the phone.
“Just come home,” Aria says. “We can talk about it when you get here.”
“But I won’t be home for at least an hour. We spent the night in Atlanta,” I say, my heart racing with worry. “I’m going to drive myself crazy by then. Are Mom and Dad okay?”
“Mom and Dad are fine.”
“What about the baby? And Melody? Are they—”
“Everyone’s okay. Or at least no one is hurt. It’s…something else.” She lowers her voice. “Something I think we’re better off discussing in person. Without Mason around.”
I pause, a burning sensation flooding through my chest. “Why without Mason?” I ask, not caring if he hears. “Mason and I are together now, Aria. Anything you can say to me, you can say to him.”
Aria sighs, a long, sad sigh that does nothing to calm my nerves. “Just come home, okay? I’ll be waiting when you get here. Melody took Felicity out to Brian’s place to feed the ducks and pet the horses, so we should have the house to ourselves.”
“All right.” I hang up without saying goodbye, too frustrated for good phone manners.
“What was that about?” Mason asks as he pulls onto the highway, aiming us back toward Bliss River.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Aria said she has bad news, but she won’t tell me what it is over the phone.”
“Or with me around,” Mason adds, clearly having overheard.
I reach out and take his free hand in mine. “You heard what I had to say about that. It’s you and me, and she’s going to have to get used to it.”
Mason gives my fingers a light squeeze. “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, I’ll help. We’ll get through it.”
Together, doesn’t need to be said aloud. I can feel it in the air between us, a fact of life as undeniable as the truth that everything tastes better with bacon.
From the second I opened my eyes to find Mason watching me sleep with a smile on his face, I felt the change in our relationship. There is no more doubt, no more fear, only a deep gratitude and a feeling of…lightness. Our love is lifting us up and carrying us along, making every step, every breath, easier than it was before.
We are truly Mason and Lark again, but even more deeply connected than we were before. Now, we know exactly what a precious thing we have to lose, and we’re both determined to hold tighter, love harder, and protect our future together at all costs.
I’m sure of it.
I remain sure all the way home to Bliss River and up the walk to my parents’ house. I hold tight to Mason’s hand as Aria leads us to the picnic table behind the house where a blue folder is waiting atop the freshly stained wood.
It’s a harmless looking thing, that folder, but my pulse races anyway. Aria hasn’t been in the best mood lately, but she’s not the kind to create drama where there isn’t any. If she thinks I’m going to be upset about the contents of the folder, then she’s probably right.
“Since you wanted to look at it with Mason, I brought it out here,” Aria says, motioning to the folder, refusing to meet my gaze. She hasn’t looked up from the ground since she met me at the door. “I’ll go inside and give you two some privacy.”
“Aria, can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” I ask, not wanting my sister to leave for some strange reason. I was angry with her on the way home, but now I want as many people who love me around as possible.
Aria pauses by the back door, casting a sad glance over her shoulder. “I think it’s better that you and Mason do this alone.”
And then she’s gone and there’s nothing left to do but cross to the picnic table and pick up the folder. So I do, my hands shaking as I flip it open and pull out a bunch of papers stapled together at the upper left hand corner.
“What is it?” Mason asks from across the table.
I shake my head as I skim the first page of the document. “I don’t know. It looks like a contract.” I flip another page. “A rental agreement or something.”
“What?” Mason asks, sounding as confused as I feel. “A rental agreement for what?”
“I don’t…” I reach the last page and my words trail away.
It’s a rental agreement for an apartment in New York City. Signed by five men, one of whom is Mason Stewart. I recognize his crooked, scrawled signature immediately.