Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 144: Waiting Game

Chapter 144: Waiting Game

Ellen stirred awake, startled by a little creak in the house. Rubbing her eyes, she reached over to her bedside table and grabbed the phone, squinting at the screen. It was 12 a.m.

Had Mason come back yet?

Ellen pushed the covers aside and slipped out of bed, her bare feet barely making a sound.

With a slight hesitation, she approached Mason’s room. Her fingers lightly brushed the doorframe as she knocked softly. "Mason?" she called out, keeping her voice gentle. No answer.

She knocked again, a little firmer this time. "Mason, are you there?"

Still no response.

Biting her lip, Ellen carefully turned the doorknob and opened the door just a crack. The room was dark, and as her eyes adjusted, she could see that Mason’s bed was still perfectly made, untouched since the morning. A small sigh escaped her lips as she closed the door quietly and leaned against it for a moment. He wasn’t back yet.

She made her way downstairs, hoping to find some sign of him, but everything was just as she had left it before going to bed. Ellen stood in the middle of the living room, her arms crossed over her chest as she glanced around..

With a frustrated sigh, she turned back and headed upstairs, grabbing her phone from the bedside table. Ellen scrolled through her contacts until she found Mason’s contact. She pressed the call button, holding the phone to her ear, listening to the ring.

Once. Twice.

Voicemail.

She frowned and tried again, her fingers gripping the phone a little tighter. The second call went straight to voicemail again, making her frustration bubble up.

"Of course, Mason," she muttered to herself. "It’s just a party. Why would you have your phone on?"

Letting out a sigh, she opened her messaging app and started typing a message. "It’s late, Mason. Where are you? Please come home safely." Then hit send.

With a soft groan, Ellen walked out of her bedroom again. Her phone clutched in her hand as she made her way downstairs If she was awake now, she might as well stay up and wait for him. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep again, not with the nagging worry creeping in.

She threw herself onto the couch, the soft cushions swallowing her as she leaned back, her legs stretched out in front of her.

Her phone rested beside her, but she kept glancing at it, her fingers tapping lightly on her thigh in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Ellen tried to keep her mind calm, but it was hard not to think about Mason being out so late. And they were talking about bachelor party here. The kind of nights where dudes might let loose and things can get messy.

Just as she was getting lost in some wild thoughts, she heard that familiar sound of a car rolling into the driveway. Ellen sat up straight, her heart leaping. She quickly stood, rushing to the window to peek outside. But instead of Mason stepping out of the car, she saw Philip emerging from the driver’s seat.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as Philip walked around to the back of the car. Ellen opened the front door just in time to see him open the back door and help Mason, who was clearly struggling, out of the car.

"Mason?" Ellen called out as she hurried toward them.

Philip looked up and smiled reassuringly as he guided Mason, who was leaning heavily against him. "It’s okay, Ellen. He’s just a little drunk, that’s all."

Mason, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, slurred, "I didn’t... I didn’t drink much..." His words were barely coherent, and he swayed on his feet, forcing Philip to tighten his grip.

Ellen sighed, her concern deepening as she moved closer. "Oh, Mason," she muttered under her breath, then looked at Philip. "Can you help me bring him to his room?"

"Of course," Philip nodded without hesitation, adjusting Mason’s arm over his shoulder to take more of his weight.

Ellen and Philip worked together to guide Mason inside.

He couldn’t walk straight and kept mumbling to himself.

As they climbed the stairs, Philip let out a small chuckle. "He should be grateful he has a good secretary like me watching out for him." Ellen gave him a weak smile in return, though her worry for Mason overshadowed it.

After what felt like a lifetime of struggling with Mason, they finally got him to his room. Philip half-dragged, half-carried Mason to the bed and, with a small grunt of effort, tossed him onto the mattress. Mason landed on his back with a soft thud, his eyes already fluttering shut.

Philip stood back, brushing his hands off with a satisfied grin. "Well, he’s all set now. I’ll swing by in the morning to return his car."

Ellen gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, Philip. I really appreciate it."

Philip waved her off. "No problem at all. Get some rest yourself." With that, he gave a quick nod and headed out of the room, leaving Ellen and Mason alone.

Ellen turned her attention back to her husband. Mason lay sprawled across the bed, one arm draped over his eyes, his breathing slow and deep. For a moment, she thought he had already fallen asleep. She sighed deeply, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little now that he was home and safe.

She took a hesitant step toward the bed, her gaze softening as she looked at him. His tie was a mess, his shirt slightly wrinkled from the way he had collapsed on the bed. She shook her head, thinking about how much he must have had to get like this.

As she headed to the bedroom, Ellen felt a sudden grip on her wrist. Her breath hitched as she noticed Mason’s hand wrapped around hers.

"Don’t go..." Mason’s voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. "Don’t leave me alone, Ellen."

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