Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 135: No Time For Nostalgia

Chapter 135: No Time For Nostalgia

Mason stepped out of the restroom, running a hand through his dark hair, feeling the cool air of the hallway wash over him. The buzz of the party in the background was still faintly audible, but he found it a nice break from the busy crowd.

As Mason began walking back toward the main event, he suddenly saw a familiar figure standing just a few steps ahead, blocking his way.

Aubrey.

She stood there with a soft smile playing on her lips. Her light pink dress matched her soft features really well, hugged her frame just enough to turn heads, but Mason barely noticed. He was immune to her charm by now.

Aubrey shifted slightly, her hands clasped in front of her as if she’d been waiting for him. Her eyes, those familiar bright brown eyes, met his as she spoke, "Mason, hey..."

Mason met her gaze. He nodded once in acknowledgment, not feeling the need for more. "Aubrey."

There was a moment of silence between them. Aubrey shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her smile growing a little wider as if she were trying to bridge the gap between them. "I didn’t get the chance to say this earlier," she began, her eyes scanning his face. "But you look really good tonight. Well, you always do."

Mason’s jaw tightened slightly at her words, but he kept a straight face. Compliments from Aubrey didn’t mean much to him anymore. Still, politeness dictated his response. "Thanks," he said flatly, glancing briefly at her. "You too."

He didn’t put much thought into the words, and it showed in his tone. He wasn’t here to engage in any meaningful conversation with her, and it was obvious he didn’t care. Despite that, Aubrey’s eyes lit up slightly, her smile growing at the small acknowledgment he gave her. It was like she was clinging to any scrap of interaction she could get.

Aubrey stepped a little closer, her voice taking on a warmer tone. "It’s really nice seeing you tonight, you know? I wasn’t sure if we’d run into each other."

Mason said nothing, only looking at her with the same neutral expression. Aubrey seemed unfazed by his lack of response, pressing on with an air of confidence. "What do you say we grab a drink together?" she asked, her smile lingering as she tilted her head slightly, waiting for his reply.

Mason’s gaze flickered to her briefly before he began walking past her, heading in the direction of the drink station. He wasn’t interested in chatting, but he was headed that way anyway.

Aubrey’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and followed him without hesitation. She walked beside him, trying to match his pace.

When they reached the drink station, Mason scanned the area quickly, his eyes moving past the colorful array of champagne glasses and cocktails. His attention was elsewhere—he was looking for Ellen. His gaze swept over the crowd, moving from group to group, hoping to catch a glimpse of her familiar figure.

Aubrey watched him, her eyes softening as she noticed the way he was searching for someone. She reached out to the drink table, picking up a glass of champagne with delicate fingers. "Here," she said, holding it out to him with a small smile. "Have a drink."

Mason didn’t even look at the glass. His eyes were still scanning the crowd, his focus entirely on finding Ellen. "I’m not drinking tonight," he said flatly, not bothering to explain himself further.

Aubrey’s smile wavered as she slowly lowered the glass, placing it back on the table. She watched him, her brows knitting together slightly as she realized how distant he had become. He hadn’t even looked at her when he spoke, and it was painfully clear that his attention was on someone else.

But she wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

"So, have you been enjoying the party?" she asked. "It’s been a while since we were at something like this together."

Mason gave a noncommittal shrug, barely acknowledging her question. "Yeah, I guess."

Aubrey’s heart sank a little more, but she pushed on, unwilling to let the conversation die. She smiled again, though it felt a little forced. "Remember that time we went to that gala downtown? It was so crowded, but we had a good time, didn’t we?"

Mason’s jaw tightened, his eyes briefly flicking to her before looking away again. "I don’t remember," he replied.

Aubrey bit her lip, feeling her heart drop further. She could see how much Mason had changed, how little he cared about their past. Still, she wasn’t willing to let him walk away just yet. "Mason..." she started, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "Maybe we could—"

But before she could finish, Mason took a step back, clearly signaling his desire to leave. His posture stiffened, his patience thinning as his attention remained firmly elsewhere. "I need to go," he muttered.

Panic flared in Aubrey’s chest. She reached out impulsively, her hand catching his arm. "Wait, Mason. Please."

He stopped abruptly, his body going rigid at her touch. Slowly, he turned his head to look down at her hand on his arm, his expression darkening. His glare was cold, sharp—filled with an irritation that sent a chill down her spine. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her hand, as if silently commanding her to let go.

Mason’s jaw clenched tightly. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and for a brief second, she saw the frustration in his eyes—an intensity that made her heart race. His voice, when it finally came, was low, almost a growl. "Aubrey, let go."

It was a command, cold and distant. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, but she hesitated, her fingers still gripping his arm.

Then, with a sharp motion, he pulled his arm free from her grasp, breaking the contact as if it burned him. His eyes never left hers as he stepped back, his face was stone cold.

"I want to find my wife," Mason stated, not waiting for her to say anything. He turned away from her.

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