Page 72 of The Golden Hour

The last couple of days replay in his mind, slowly, second by second, and he lets it sear him. Honey’s blood, Honey’s screams, Daisy unsettled with him, Honey’s eyes—angry and broken.

He feels grief. Fear. Despair. Agony.

Until finally rage.

Pure, clean, rage.

It starts slow, the way a volcano erupts, every single moment he failed Honey, pressure growing under the surface of his skin. Getting hotter and hotter, everything inside of him shifting and moving and building.

Until the eruption.

Slamming his fists on the metal door, hearing the loud clanging echoing through the empty halls. He does it again and again, the edge of his hands stinging in the way that actually feels kind of good. Kind of like a release.

He opens his mouth.

And he screams.

And he screams.

Again.

And again.

And again.

He almost lost Honey. He almost lost his daughter. And his hands will remain covered in their blood until the day he dies. He will never allow himself to forget this feeling. He will never allow himself to grow complacent with his girls again. He will be better.

He will be the husband Honey deserves.

He will be the father Daisy deserves.

And he will never let himself forget this searing feeling in his chest.

He screams until his throat is raw.

Until the rage goes from a boil to a simmer.

And then he channels it into movement, turning and heading out the way he came. His footsteps are heavy against the floor as he walks down the hallway, toward the elevators, and hits the button to the admin’s floor.

Kelly from HR is walking into her office, a cup of coffee in one hand, her glasses perched on her head, and she pauses when she sees him storming toward her.

“Dr. Carpenter,” Kelly says, sounding surprised.

“I need a meeting,” Mason says, adding as Kelly opens her mouth, “Right fucking now.”

“I will admit that it does sound inappropriate,” Kelly says from behind her desk, laptop open in front of her to take notes.

Mason sits in the uncomfortable chair, fingers digging into his knees, and trying to quell the rage threatening to build again. He just spent half an hour explaining the entire situation and feels hope light up, then die quickly at Kelly’s next words.

“But Dr. Lewis may have believed she was visiting your wife as your concerned coworker.”

“She’s my coworker, not my friend. Barely an acquaintance. She’s not mine or Honey’s family,” Mason says firmly. “And she didn’t just walk into my wife’s room. She walked into two patients of this hospital’s room to imply that I am having an affair.”

Kelly peers at him and she leans forward.

“I have to ask whether there is any personal relationship between you and Dr. Lewis that might complicate this complaint⁠⁠—”

“No,” Mason snaps, the word ripping out of him loud enough to make Kelly jump.