Chapter 2

Mason had returned after I fell asleep. The next morning, he found me in the kitchen.

He dropped his briefcase and immediately walked into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist from behind. He buried his face in my hair, taking a deep, tired breath.

"I am so sorry about last night," he murmured against my neck. "I just got caught up with Sophie. I will make it up to you, Avery. I promise."

He turned me around and cupped my face. His thumbs gently stroked my cheekbones.

His regret looked real. That was what made it harder.

Mason loved me. He simply treated my understanding as a resource that could never run out.

I gently stepped back, breaking his touch.

I opened my bag and placed Voucher Number 51 on the marble counter between us.

"My mother is awake," I told him calmly. "She is willing to see you tonight. We can eat at the French restaurant near the hospital, then go up to her room together."

Mason’s eyes lit up. He reached out and squeezed my hands tight.

"I will be there," he promised, kissing my knuckles. "I won't be late. I swear."

He kept his promise.

He arrived at the restaurant five minutes early. When I sat down, he had already ordered my favorite sparkling water.

He smiled at me, took his phone out of his pocket, and flipped the silent switch. He placed it face down on the table.

For a brief moment, my heart felt light. I looked at my husband and thought this time would really be different.

Then, the phone rang.

It was Vanessa.

Mason hesitated. He looked at me, then picked it up. "She knows I am with you. It must be an emergency."

He answered.

Vanessa’s panicked voice came through the speaker. "Mason! Sophie fell at dance rehearsal. We are at the clinic across the street. The doctor needs her guardian to sign the paperwork!"

I froze.

The doctor needed her guardian to sign.

"Why do they need you to sign?"

A photo of the clinic intake form appeared on Mason’s phone.

Beneath Sophie’s name, one word appeared in bold letters:

GUARDIAN.

Beside it was Mason Reed.

"How long has your name been there?" I asked.

"It was only meant to make emergencies easier," he said, avoiding my eyes.

He had not simply helped Vanessa once or twice.

On paper, he had already stepped into the place of Sophie’s father.

Mason didn't run out this time. Instead, he spoke into the phone. "Bring her to the restaurant. I will sign it here."

Ten minutes later, Vanessa and Sophie walked in.

Sophie ran straight to Mason and grabbed his arm, burying her face in his jacket.

A waiter quickly walked over with two extra chairs for our small square table.

Sophie refused to let go of Mason. She wanted to sit right in front of him to hold his hands.

Mason looked up at me. His hand was gently patting Sophie’s back.

"Avery," he asked naturally, "can you move to the side chair? She won't let go of me."

I stood up.

I moved to the small, unpadded chair pulled up to the corner of the table.

Sophie sat in my original chair. Vanessa sat on the other side, handing Mason the medical tablet.

Mason sat in the middle, comforting the little girl.

Right in the center of the table was my black leather booklet, displaying the "Dinner for Two" voucher.

They looked like a perfect, complete family.

I sat on the edge, looking like a stranger who had interrupted their meal.

My phone rang. It was my mother's nurse.

"Ms. Hart, your mother is waiting for you and your husband."

I hung up. I looked at Mason.

He had finished signing the tablet. Sophie’s wrist was wrapped in a simple bandage. She was perfectly safe.

"My mother is waiting," I said quietly.

Mason looked at Sophie, who whimpered and tightened her grip on his sleeve.

"You go up first, Avery," Mason said softly. "I will wait until her emotions settle down. I will be right behind you."

I didn't argue. I didn't wait.

The reservation was originally for two. It ended up with four. And I left before the main course.

I left the voucher on the table.

I walked into the quiet hospital room alone.

My mother, Eleanor, looked past me toward the empty doorway.

"The board called again today," she said weakly. "They want a final answer about the succession of Hart Hotels."

I lowered my bag beside the bed.

"You already had my answer three years ago."

"Yes," she said. "I had yours."

Her gaze remained sharp despite the weakness in her face.

"You gave up Hart Hotels because you believed this marriage was worth choosing."

I looked toward the empty doorway.

"He came," I said quietly.

My mother waited.

"But he stayed downstairs with them."

Her eyes moved back to me.

"Then why," she whispered, "are you still walking into every important room alone?"

When I left the hospital that night, Claire’s unsigned divorce petition was waiting in my inbox.

Inside the black leather booklet, only one voucher remained.

One would end my marriage.

The other would give Mason one final chance to save it.

I still believed I had time to decide which one I would use first.