I call Mason when I finish work at 5.30. "Can you drop me off at home when you're done?" I ask, hoping to spend a few quiet minutes with him.
"I thought your car was fixed. That's why I didn't ask if you needed a ride this morning. How did you get to work then?" he asks. There's this quiet guilt in his voice, like he wishes he'd offered before I even had to ask. And I like that.
"My friend helped me, but she's off to her boyfriend's now," I lie. "Sorry for the trouble."
"No worries. I passed your office a minute ago. Turning around now."
"Take your time," I reply.
He pulls up less than a minute later.
"What a crappy day," I mutter as I get in.
"Busy?" he asks, smiling. That warm, genuine smile lights up his whole face and makes him even more attractive. It is hard not to stare, but I focus on looking straight ahead.
"One of those days," I say, rubbing my temples like I have a headache. "I didn't even get a minute to sit down."
"Go home, run a cold bath, and try to relax. You'll feel better."
I nod. "Good idea."
Neither of us says a word for a few minutes. He rolls down the window, rests his arm outside, and drives with one hand. The wind runs through his silky brown hair, gently tousling it.
"Want it down on your side too?" he asks.
I let out a quiet 'hmm,' and he lowers the window. The wind comes in fast, whipping my hair. I brush it back and whisper, "So much wind."
"It's fresh."
"I don't mind the breeze. Just not in my face. I hate when it plays with my hair," I say, wanting him to see my face. I did a little makeup after work, only for him. Sure enough, he glances over, smiles, and rolls the window back up.
The car glides down the road, quiet again. Then out of nowhere, I blurt, "Your wife's losing it." The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. We weren't even talking about Natalie. Now it feels awkward.
He gives me a puzzled look. "Did Natalie call you too?"
"Of course she did."
"To talk about the stalker?"
"Yep, about the imaginary stalker," I say mockingly.
"Sadly, your sister won't accept it. I've told her it's all in her mind, but she doesn't take it well."
"She's falling apart because of work," I say, shaking my head. "She works crazy shifts, four, five, sometimes six days a week, and still thinks it's not enough. Why?"
"The mortgage," he groans, almost rolling his eyes. "Buying that huge house when prices were at their highest was the first mistake. The second was not locking in the mortgage when the rates were low."
"Why would you buy such a massive house?" I ask as if I don't know. Natalie has told me many times about how his parents trapped him into buying the house, but she does not regret it. She is very proud of their huge house.
"My parents suggested it," he says, drumming his fingers on the door. "When I told them I was marrying Lauren, they thought I'd waste all my money on the wedding. So, they pushed me to focus on the house instead. They picked everything out and paid half the down payment, so I thought it was great. But it turned out to be a trap, and now Natalie and I are the ones stuck with it, not them."
"That was a huge trap, and now Natalie's paying the price. She's exhausted, Mason," I say, my voice softening. "Sure, she chose to take on all those extra shifts, but it's frustrating her. It's clouding her judgment. And the worst part? She's taking it out on Jaime."
"Exactly," he agrees. "She's been watching Jaime like a hawk, waiting for her to slip up. I told her to back off. Leave Jaime alone."
"That won't do the trick," I answer, my tone firm. "Why not sell the house and find something cheaper? It might take the pressure off her."
He smirks. "You think I haven't brought that up before?"
"She needs real help, Mason. She's struggling with her mental health. She should talk to someone, get proper support, before things go downhill."
He remains silent for a moment, and we exchange a knowing glance, both fully aware of what remains unsaid. If she continues on this path, she will eventually break. She risks losing her job or, worse, harming herself or someone else. I suggest that she seek professional help, though not out of genuine concern. In truth, witnessing her unravel gives me a twisted sense of satisfaction. However, Mason cannot know that. I need him to view me as the concerned sister who genuinely wants to help. There's clearly something between us. If he notices this part of me, he might start liking me more. And if things go the way I imagine, taking Natalie's place might not be that far off.