Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Nina
Mason has it?
I know what those three words mean. They make perfect sense. But my mind is unwilling to connect the dots. Because what the hell does this mean?
“Do you have a picture of it?”
I’m being stupid. There’s no way—is there?
“Of the piano?” Scarlet frowns, as if I’m crazy.
“Yeah!”
“Probably. It’s just a black grand piano.”
It’s just a black grand piano. There must be hundreds of thousands of them in the world. Maybe I am being crazy.
My eyebrows pinch together.
Were the initials even EML?
The doubt only makes everything a bigger, confusing haze.
“Let me look. I might have a picture.” Scarlet starts digging until she finds more memory boxes that Anthony had made. Each one is labelled with a different occasion.
“Umm... Eclipse, Millennium, Christmas of ‘89. Oh, this one! Christmas 1990. Mum was pregnant with me at the time. I’ve seen this one.” She beams at me, falling to her knees and connecting the tape to the TV.
A few moments later the screen lights up.
The camera shakes as the person holding it wobbles along the wood floor. A child, I’d suspect. “Mase, he stole the camera. He is so unbelievably cute in this.”
Scarlet confirms my thoughts.
“Mason, come here!” a deep but playful voice calls out, making the little boy giggle and run faster, but then two feet come into view, and suddenly he stops.
“Mummy. No!” He spins, running in the opposite direction, but as he does, the camera falls perfectly on Anthony’s young face.
“Gotcha!” his hands come out to catch his son.
“Daddy, no, put me down, no tickle, no tickle!” Mason squeals, trying to catch his breath between his hysterics.
“Careful, Anthony, you will drop him,” a soft voice mutters, the camera now upside down and coming to focus on the woman in the kitchen doorway.
Ellis. She’s wearing a blue floral dress, her stomach a perfectly round shape.
I swipe the tear that forms in my eye.
“Come on, boys.” The camera shakes as Ellis leans down to take it, then it spins to Anthony and Mason.
Mason hangs upside down, Anthony’s hands locked tightly around his ankles. Moving through the hall, they enter the lounge we are in now. Mason is placed down on the sofa then lifted into his father’s arms, his podgy hands wrapping tight around Anthony’s neck.
My heart aches for them.
Why couldn’t they have had more time?
“Mummy, play! Play!” Mason cries.
I dip my head to the side as my throat burns because I already know I’m right.
Anthony tells Ellis to pass him the camera, the blurred image from before becoming perfectly clear. Mason climbs onto his mother’s lap, his hand wrapped lovingly around her baby bump, and his head rested against her chest.
Ellis begins to play, and my eyes drop to the initials on the back of the piano. The very piano that has been sat in my studio for the past year. The piano I have layed out on whilst feeling so far from him.
My studio always felt like home to me, and his mother’s piano was always a part of that—maybe even the very essence of it.
Ellis looks into the camera, and I feel her eyes on me before they flick higher—beyond the camera. A loving smile graces her face that’s directed at her husband.
“She was beautiful. You look just like her.”
“Yeah,” Scarlet sobs. “Sorry, I’ve seen this a hundred times before.”
“Don’t apologise,” I tell her, moving to sit on the sofa.
I pull her into a tight hug just as the tape cuts off.
Vinny arrives late in the afternoon to take me home, and I dread it. I pushed the piano to the back of my mind for the remainder of the afternoon, not allowing my brain to make sense of it. But I know I need to.
Especially before I face Mason.
“Hey, Vin.” I smile as I slide into the back of the Audi.
“Good day?” he asks, looking up at the grand house with a thoughtful look.
“Yeah, just draining.” I yawn, dropping my head to the seat and closing my eyes. “I’ll be glad to get in my bed tonight.”
We leave the estate behind and head towards the city, which gives me plenty of time to think. And the only thing on my mind is Mason’s mother’s piano.
Why is it in the studio?
Did Mason know?
I pause at that thought. It’s like everything clicks into place. My head calls a ceasefire. The confusion settles as I get the image of Mason in the studio. It was the day Joey took the photos. It was the first time he had been upstairs.
I thought he was mad. I thought it was Joey.
The way his eyes cut through me as if he wasn’t looking at me.
He wasn’t. It was the piano.
He knows it’s there—but how, why?
My body flushes ice cold then hot, goosebumps making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
He knows it’s there.
If the piano is Mason’s and he knew where my studio was, why didn’t he ever tell me about it? God, that doesn’t even make sense. Not with the way he behaved that day. Did he not know? He didn’t seem like he knew. He seemed…
“Vinny, do you know anything about Ellis’ piano?”
He flinches. It’s quick and only slight, but I catch it, and it sets my pulse racing.
“It’s just, I think it’s in my studio.” I shake my head, correcting myself. “My old studio.”
He hesitates, and it’s obvious he’s choosing his words carefully. “Yes, Nina. I’ve heard about the piano, but you should probably ask Mason about it.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I am asking you to speak to Mason about it,” he says sternly, and I frown at his tone.
He’s been quiet since he got back from his holiday. I put it down to Anthony’s passing because I know they were close, but this isn’t like Vinny.
Resigning myself to the fact that Vinny isn’t going to help me, I try to piece it together myself, starting with the day Mason came to the studio.
Joey and the photos. Mason came to me and saw the piano—that much I am sure of.
What was it he said?
Why can’t I remember anything, dammit?!
I went for lunch with the girls straight after Mason left. Erin called and told me she had to go home.
Erin!
Why the hell was Ellis’s piano in her building?
Nothing makes sense.
I catch Vinny watching me in the rearview mirror, and I know he has the answers to my questions. He disappeared the day after my studio sold. Mase was in a foul mood, and Erin went back to Australia.
Something doesn’t add up.
“Your holiday, Vin. Where did you go?”
“Up North. I went to see family.” He flicks his eyes between me in the mirror and the road, and his fists clench against the steering wheel.
“The day after my studio sold, right?”
“Right.”
After being at the estate, I feel like I’ve lived through Scarlet’s nostalgia. So many emotions that are not mine to have, yet I have become so deeply rooted into this family in such a short space of time.
I haven’t felt that since becoming a part of Lucy’s family, and to think Mason has kept something from me—after everything we have been through—it scares me.
I’m afraid of what my gut tells me.
I find him in the home gym. He’s screwing the lid back onto his water bottle, and I watch as his bare chest glistens with a layer of sweat.
His body is phenomenal. His vigorous routine since his father’s death is only making him fitter.
“Hi,” I say, leaning my hip against the doorframe and making myself known.
“Angel.” He makes his way towards me, bending down to kiss me, but my instincts have me pulling away.
He frowns down at me. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow thickly, not knowing where to start.
The elevator door pings, and we both bristle. Mason moves past me and out into the foyer.
“Vin, what are you doing here?”
He’s here because he knows that I know.
I know what he’s done. Or at least, I think I do. And it hurts so much.
Mason turns to me as realisation sinks in, his face awash of panic and guilt, only confirming my thoughts. Has his guilt been there this whole time? Because all of a sudden, I feel like I’m seeing him in technicolour.
“Nina.”
I put my hand up to stop him, my mind racing as I cover my mouth with my other hand.
I don’t want it to be true.
His features tighten, and he tilts his head, his anger starting to pull him under. “Say it,” he grits out.
My eyes fill with tears. Do I even need to say it? “You promised me—”
“Say it!” his voice booms, cutting me off as he steps toward me.
My nostrils flare, and I hold his eyes, unable to look away. “Did you have a hand in selling my studio?” I ask, my voice strong and clear.
Silence fills the penthouse. My heartbeat the only sound.
“No.” He tightens his jaw. Sharp. Deadly. I don’t want to hate him. “I had the only hand. I sold it.” But I do.
“Why?” my voice betrays me, cracking as I utter the word.
Lifting my chin, I don’t allow the hurt to show nor my tears to fall. He’s already taken too much of me.
I won’t give him another inch.
He runs a hand down his face. “You wouldn’t understand. I never meant for this—”
“Did you only show interest in me because of the piano?”
“What? No!”
“Why, then?” I snap, my body visibly trembling.
“Nina, please, there’s not a simple answer.”
“Fucking try me!” I yell, feeling my emotions slipping as I plead with him not to fuck this up any more than he already has.
“I can’t.”
“What?” I utter, my shoulders dropping.
“Mason, come on, lad.” Vinny steps forward, his voice laced with warning.
I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Fuck off, Vinny!”
“You need to tell her the truth. You can tell her the truth.”
“Leave!” Mason growls, his face turning a deep shade of red.
“Don’t bother,” I tell Vinny, pulling the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder. “I’m leaving.”
I stare into Mason’s eyes, searching for the man I know is in there but continues to shut me out.
I go to move past him, but he grabs my upper arm, pulling me into him. “You’re getting good at this. Running.”
“And every time I run, you seem to cut me that little bit deeper.”
I see the turmoil in his eyes: the fear, the guilt, the anger and pain. I made a decision months ago to be that someone for him.
To stand beside him.