Mrs. Henderson. Mrs. Henderson. Mrs. Henderson. Like calling Bloody Mary in a darkened bathroom, I summoned her as I pushed open the door and forced myself outside.

Unfortunately, it worked. All too soon, the familiar, fake smile returned to my face. As I turned back towards Mason I noticed the slight pain in his eyes as he looked at it. But we both knew I needed to use it now. This was how things had to be.

"Bye, Mason! Thanks for the pizza," I chirped, giving a small wave. "Feel free to drop by ours sometime for coffee."

Although he clearly wasn't thrilled with it, he did his part to keep up the charade. "Will do, Mags. Say 'hello' to your husband for me."

Mags. A small pain stabbed at my heart as I heard the familiar nickname. It was what everyone called me around here. Phil, the neighbors, even Eli and Ronnie. But not Mason. At least, not when we were really together. I wondered if this was how it felt for him whenever I faked my smile.

"You know I will!"

With reluctance, I turned my back on that house that made me feel safe and warm and the man who had brought an honest smile to my face. My heart was practically screaming in anger at the betrayal as, step by step, I increased the distance between us. And as his door closed softly behind me, I swear I could feel it breaking.

The sky was blue and clear, barely a cloud in sight. The sun was warm and mild, bathing everything in a soft, shimmering light. I was almost offended. How dare it be such a beautifully sunny day while misery gathered around me like storm clouds. It was almost like the universe was mocking me.

As reluctant as I was to return home, I couldn't help the relief I felt as it finally came into view. I hurried inside and closed the door behind me, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. I pressed my back against the door and slid to the floor.

How could one day feel both so long and so short? How did the time for me to leave Mason's home arrive in the blink of an eye? And, more importantly, how the hell was it only three o'clock right now?

It seems that in my excitement to have my little rendezvous with Mason, I completely neglected the fact that there would still be a whole day to fill after I left his house. And I'd made absolutely zero plans for it. The chores would only take me a couple of hours at most, and I highly doubted that this would be one of the rare days Phil would actually come home for dinner. Especially after our little fight this morning.

Which left me in the awkward position of having nothing to do. A fact that only seemed to double the misery I felt being home.

It was stupid. Why did I have to come home so early? Goddamn nosy neighbors. So desperate to bring some spice to their boring vanilla lives that they'd look for it anywhere. If it wasn't for them, I could have stayed at Mason's.

He certainly didn't seem to mind the idea. Hell, he was even the one to suggest I stay over. Maybe not in so many words, but he at least implied it. And based on his reluctance when I had to leave earlier, something told me he wouldn't mind the idea too much even if he didn't.

But all this was just an "if," of course. The reality was that the neighbors did exist. That they would start rumors if I stayed at Mason's too long. And I would be putting Eli at risk by doing so.

I let out another heavy sigh, hugging my knees to my chest. I rested my chin on them as I stared into the emptiness of the entryway.

Eli... I couldn't even visit him today. He'd probably had his treatment by now and it always left him feeling so sick and weak afterward. Aside from it already being hard for me to see him like that, the last thing his body needed was the added stress of my emotional baggage.

Besides, I didn't want to share these miserable feelings with him. Not when I finally had something good in my life to tell him about.

For so many years, he'd been my sympathetic ear for my problems with Phil. Through every fight, through every crushing realization, through all the pain and tears, Eli had always been there for me. Now, I finally had something good to tell him. Something that I knew he wanted to hear about.

Honestly, treatment or not, I was kind of surprised he hadn't called me already. Or, at least, pestered Ronnie into calling me. Eli might have been too weak for a full conversation, but he usually made Ronnie his surrogate gossip girl in that case. Ronnie always was a bit of a pushover after Eli had treatments. Not that I could say anything about that. I was too.

Then again, I guess this wasn't exactly the same thing as venting about another typical argument with Phil. This was something big. Full of drama, sex, and a bunch of other juicy details I'm sure Eli wanted to interrogate me about in person.

I could practically see him now. Sick and weak in bed, but with a fight in his eyes and a fire in his belly. A determination that he would live long enough to wring every last detail of today's events from me, even if he had to go as far as to put the Grim Reaper in a stranglehold to do it.

The image brought a small snort of laughter bubbling up from my throat and helped to part those dark storm clouds hanging over my head. I smiled a bit as I forced myself to my feet.

Alright, no more moping and feeling sorry for myself. I had a whole day to fill and not much to fill it with. I needed to figure out something to do.

As expected, the first place to start was the chores. Unfortunately, I was a victim of the good housewife's curse: cleaning so frequently that there was barely anything that actually needed to be cleaned. Still, I dusted, and swept, and scrubbed everything until it practically sparkled. And by the time I finished with all that, it was still only five o'clock.

I groaned and flopped onto my bed, the time on my phone staring back at me as if mocking my existence. God, what was I supposed to do now?

It was still a little early to start dinner. Besides, I didn't want to cook until I got a call from Phil anyway. The only thing more annoying than having nothing to do was having to do the same thing twice because I jumped the gun and didn't cook enough food for both of us. It was unlikely that he'd come today, but not impossible. And I'd rather not take the chance.

I let out a small sigh as I rolled over, lying facedown on the bed. As I did, I was overwhelmed by a familiar scent. Mason.

My heart ached as the scent of his shampoo surrounded me. I reached up and touched my hair. Right, I still had to wash this off sometime today too.

It wasn't a question of if I should wash it off, I had to do it. Even Phil wouldn't miss something as obvious as another man's scent on me, and there was no excuse I could make for it that wouldn't be seen through in an instant. No, keeping this scent was not an option. I needed a shower.

And yet, I just couldn't seem to force myself to get up and do it.

As ridiculous as it was, I had trouble letting go of this scent. After all, it was Mason's. It was like a part of him that I could take with me wherever I went, even when we were far apart from each other. Like the one string that still connected us together after everything that had happened today. And I just couldn't let it go.

My phone lay on the bed like a siren calling out to me. I picked it up, staring at my reflection in the black screen. God, I wanted to talk to him so bad.

I bit my lip as I opened up my contacts. I mean... I could message him, couldn't I? It's not like he ever said that I couldn't. Plus, why even give me his number if he didn't want to hear from me, right? It couldn't hurt to just send him one little message. Right?

I sighed and shook my head shoving my phone under my pillow. Nope. No way. Not doing it.

What was I? A high school girl who just left her boyfriend's house? Was I going to pout my lips and twirl my hair around my finger while we argued playfully about who should hang up first too?

Ugh. The thought alone was enough to make me cringe.

Besides, even if I did call or message him, what the hell was I going to say? That I made it home safe? It was the middle of the day and my house was literally across the street. That I had a good time? Not only did I already tell him that, but he had a puddle in the middle of his goddamn bedroom to prove it. That I missed him? Ugh.

I grabbed the pillow and shoved my face into it. God, what was wrong with me? I just left his house a couple of hours ago. I don't think I was even gone long enough for his bathroom to dry yet. Why was I acting like this?

What? I have a guy treat me nice for one day and suddenly I can't live without him? Oh, no. We weren't going to fall into that trap again.

I frowned a bit as I glanced at my window. Alright, maybe that was a little unfair of me. Mason was nothing like Phil.

Besides, I wasn't naive little Maggie Fields anymore. The girl so desperate for love and validation that she would seek it out from anybody who would offer her a crumb of it. I'd gotten older. Wiser. I knew exactly what these kinds of people were really like now. I could see through their bullshit like I had x-ray vision. And Mason... Well, I just didn't get that feeling from him.

No, Mason was one of the few people I'd met here who actually seemed sincere. There was no deception in his words, no ulterior motives in his actions. Wholly and honestly, he was himself.

At least, when we were together anyway. Of course, he still had his "good neighbor" persona that he had to pull out every now and again, but I wasn't really in any position to judge him for that. After all, in a place like this, you pretty much needed one to survive.

But he didn't use it with me. And he didn't want me to use mine with him either. He'd told me so in about as many words too. I mean, shouldn't that alone already be enough to prove to me that he and Phil were nothing alike?

Again, I let out a long sigh as I buried my face into the pillow.

However, my brooding was interrupted by a sudden, muffled thump. It wasn't very loud, but for some reason, I tuned into it immediately.

They say that one way humans adapt to trauma is to develop defensive strategies to help cope with it. For some, that's pretending as if the problem never existed. For others, it's avoiding certain things or behaviors they believe will trigger it. And for others, it's tuning their hearing to pick up on certain things that will warn them of impending danger. The raising of a voice, the sound of a certain footstep, or the closing of a car door.

Like Phil's did just now.

In the blink of an eye, I snatched up my phone and rushed into the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and locked it, my heart pounding in my chest.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

I turned on the shower and yanked off my clothes, shoving them to the bottom of the hamper. My hands were shaking so much I could barely unbutton my pants. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself as I stepped into the shower.

Fuck. Why was he home so early? In fact, why was he home at all? He usually avoided me like the plague after a fight like that. Why did he choose today of all days to decide to come home on time?

Unless...

My heart sunk all the way to my stomach. Unless... maybe somebody tipped him off? Shit. I thought we'd fooled Greta earlier, but maybe she knew more than she let on. Did she call Phil and tell him what she saw? Or worse, maybe he knew about this Mason thing all along and was just waiting until I acted on it to catch me.

Shit. What was I thinking? I knew this would end badly. I knew it. What was I going to do now?

What about Eli? What about his treatments? What about—

A small knock on the door nearly scared me out of my skin. The water that ran down my skin was steaming hot, but my body felt ice cold.

You know, it was almost funny. Earlier today, I don't think there was a single thing anybody on this planet could have said to convince me that I had made the wrong decision by going to Mason's. But now, as another sharp knock echoed from the door, I worried I may have just made the biggest mistake of my life.