Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 148: Just Drive

Chapter 148: Just Drive

Mason leaned back in his seat with his eyes fixed out the car window. He could see Ellen standing at the front door, waving at him with a warm smile on her face. She looked so cheerful, so full of energy, and for a brief moment, Mason felt a twinge of something in his chest. He let out a small smile in return, though he wasn’t sure if Ellen could see it.

The car started moving, pulling away from the driveway. As the mansion faded into the distance, Mason turned his gaze away from the window and focused straight ahead. His mind wandered back to the night before, but before he could get too lost in thought, Philip’s voice broke the silence.

"You sure you’re okay to work today?" Philip asked with a hint of concern as he glanced at Mason from the driver’s seat.

Mason frowned slightly, his eyes flicking to Philip. "Why wouldn’t I be?" he replied.

Philip let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Well, for starters, you were absolutely wasted last night. I mean, I’ve seen you drink before, but that was a whole new level. What the hell got into you? Gosh, why would you drink that much?"

Mason’s clenched his jaw, tapping his fingers nervously on his thigh. He did remember drinking a lot—too much, in fact. The sting of the alcohol was a nice way to take my mind off things, a way to push aside the strange, unsettling feelings that had been gnawing at him lately. Feelings about his marriage. About Ellen.

"It was nothing," Mason said after a moment. "I just needed something to clear my head."

Philip shot him a sideways glance. "Clear your head? More like knock yourself out. Seriously, man, you were gone."

Mason didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He remembered the reason for all those drinks. It wasn’t because of Ellen herself, but the nature of their relationship. Their marriage had started as a necessity, a practical arrangement—at least, that’s what he’d always told himself. But lately, something had shifted, something that made him question everything. The drinks had helped him numb that feeling, but it was only temporary.

Philip was completely unfazed as he glanced over at Mason again, this time with a more thoughtful look. "But hey, judging by how Ellen looked with that big smile this morning, I’m guessing she wasn’t mad about it."

Mason’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Of course not," he replied. "She’s not the type to hold a grudge over something like that."

Philip chuckled to himself as he turned left. "Oh? Now it seems like you understand your wife so well, huh?" he teased.

Mason didn’t respond immediately. His smirk faded, and he stared out the window in silence, his eyes focused on nothing in particular.

Did he understand Ellen that well? He had just spent the last night unraveling thoughts he hadn’t even allowed himself to admit sober. He knew she was kind, patient, and caring. But truly understanding her—that was something different.

Philip glanced at him again, the silence stretching between them. "No comeback? That’s rare," he added with a smirk.

Philip cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, steering the conversation back to something safer. He then started listing off Mason’s schedule for the day: meetings with clients, a conference call in the afternoon, some paperwork that needed reviewing, and a dinner with an investor later in the evening. It was the usual routine, nothing surprising. His voice filled the car as Mason kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, half-listening but mostly preoccupied with his own thoughts.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before Philip spoke again, but this time his tone was different—more careful, almost hesitant. "Mason," he called out softly, breaking the silence like someone testing the water before diving in.

Mason turned his head slightly, his gaze sharp but questioning as he looked at Philip, waiting for him to continue. Philip’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. The pause was enough to make Mason’s brow furrow.

Philip cleared his throat again, his eyes focused on the road. "Do you remember that next week is... well, you know... that day?"

Mason’s face darkened almost instantly, the words hitting him hard. His jaw clenched, and the muscles in his neck tightened as his brain processed the meaning behind Philip’s words.

That day.

The day he never wanted to think about, much less acknowledge. It crept up every year no matter how far he tried to run from it.

He didn’t respond, just stared ahead. The mood in the car shifted as the tension thickening between them. Philip, sensing the sudden change in Mason’s demeanor, opened his mouth again, as if to offer some form of comfort or reassurance. But before he could get a word out, Mason raised a hand, cutting him off.

"Just focus on driving, won’t you?" Mason ordered.

Philip hesitated for a moment, glancing quickly at Mason from the corner of his eye. "But—"

Before he could finish, Mason’s voice cut through the air, sharper and louder than before. "Just drive!" He turned his head slightly toward Philip. "Please, Philip," he added, the frustration clear in his voice.

Philip glanced at him, eyes flicking with concern, but he nodded and kept his attention on the road. His lips pressed into a thin line, swallowing whatever words he had been about to say. The silence returned, but this time, it wasn’t comfortable.

Mason sank back into his seat, his heart pounding. He wasn’t angry with Philip; the frustration wasn’t even directed at him. It was everything else. Something he tried so hard to ignore, something he wished he could forget.

Mason’s hands rested on his lap, but his fingers curled into fists, his knuckles turning white.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it.

Right now, he just needed the silence.

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