Gone for Good
Language: en
A few days after the Christmas holidays, Mason finally returned home from his trip. In the past, I would have already been waiting downstairs in the lobby to greet him with a hot coffee. This time, I didn't even bother getting off the couch. My phone buzzed. His voice came through the speaker with his usual commanding tone. "Come down and help me with my bags." I took a slow, leisurely sip of my chamomile tea and casually rejected him. "I'm busy. Bring them up yourself." A few minutes later, while I was reclining in my lounge chair soaking up the afternoon sun, Mason walked through the…