Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 174: Let’s Meet Them

Chapter 174: Let’s Meet Them

Ellen sat at the kitchen table, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her coffee cup. She couldn’t forget what Gerald and Aubrey had told her.

How could she not have known about Mason’s family death anniversary? How could she have missed something so important in his life? Gerald’s comments stung, leaving a bitter feeling in her stomach.

Ellen reached for her phone and hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before dialing Philip’s number. It rang twice before he picked up, his voice groggy as though he had just woken up.

"Ellen? Everything okay?"

Ellen cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. "Hey, Philip. I... I wanted to ask you something. It’s about Mason." She took a moment before continuing. "Gerald and Aubrey came over this morning. They mentioned something about today being Mason’s family’s death anniversary. Is that true?"

Philip was silent for a moment on the other end of the line, and Ellen could almost hear him sigh. "Yeah, it’s true," he finally confirmed. "Today’s the anniversary. Mason doesn’t talk about it much."

Ellen’s heart sank. "Ugh, what kind of wife am I? I don’t know anything about it!"

"Don’t take it personally, Ellen," Philip replied gently. "He didn’t like to talk about it. Mason has a way of shutting down around this time of year. He buries himself in work, drowning in it more than usual. If anyone tries to bring it up, he snaps. Even I don’t bother mentioning it anymore."

Ellen thanked Philip and hung up, her mind racing. She couldn’t just sit by and watch Mason bottle everything up like this. He needed her, even if he didn’t realize it, and she was determined to be there for him. She didn’t know what exactly she could do, but an idea was forming in her mind. She just had to act on it.

***

Saturday arrived, and Ellen woke up feeling excitement. She had made up her mind—she would take Mason to the cemetery, whether he liked it or not. He needed to face this, and maybe, just maybe, she could be the one to help him through it.

"Come on," Ellen said, leaning against the doorframe of Mason’s office. He barely looked up from his laptop.

"What?" Mason grumbled, still typing furiously.

"We’re going out," Ellen announced, walking into the room and standing in front of his desk. "Get up. You’ve been working non-stop. It’s weekend!"

Mason finally looked up, irritation flashing across his face. "I’m busy, Ellen. I’ve got a lot of work to do."

Ellen crossed her arms. "One day of not working isn’t going to kill you, Mason. Just accompany me for once. That’s all I’m asking."

Mason leaned back in his chair, eyeing her suspiciously. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," Ellen said with a small smile, determined not to let him back out.

Mason groaned, clearly not in the mood, but he pushed himself out of his chair anyway. "Fine," he muttered. "But this better not take long."

***

Mason kept stealing glances at Ellen, confusion flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t press her for answers. Ellen gave him directions on where to go and where to turn, and he just followed along. They even made a quick stop for flowers, and Ellen just grinned when Mason shot her a confused look.

When they finally arrived, Mason’s expression changed. His face darkened as he realized where they were. He pulled the car to a stop in front of the cemetery gates, the realization of what Ellen was trying to do hit him hard.

"Ellen..." Mason said in a low voice, clearly torn between confusion and anger. "What the hell is this?"

"You obviously know what this is. I know you don’t bother to see them anymore." She said it so casually, like it didn’t matter, but for Mason, it was a big deal.

Mason clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists on his lap. "This isn’t your place, Ellen," he snapped. "I don’t need this."

Mason shifted the gear into reverse. His foot hovered over the gas pedal, ready to back out of the parking lot when he suddenly felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"Mason, wait," Ellen’s voice broke through the tension. "You don’t have to do it alone, Mason," she said quietly. "I’m here. I want to be here with you."

Mason paused, his eyes narrowing as his knuckles gripped the steering wheel tighter. He didn’t turn to look at her, he just wanted to get away from this place. Away from the memories.

"I said I don’t need this," he muttered through clenched teeth, hoping it would be enough to make her stop.

Ellen’s hand didn’t move. Instead, she leaned a little closer, her voice more gentle now, but still persistent. "Mason, you’re running. You’ve been running from this for so long."

"I’m not running," he finally muttered, though even to his own ears, the words felt hollow. He swallowed hard, his eyes still fixed on the rearview mirror as he stared at the empty path behind them.

"Yes, you are. And I’m not saying this to hurt you, Mason. I know this is hard for you... but you can’t keep burying it."

For a moment, Mason didn’t move. His eyes were fixed on the cemetery gates, the memories of his family flooding back all at once. The loss, the guilt, the overwhelming sadness. He had spent so many years pushing it all down, refusing to face it, drowning in his work as a way to cope. But now, with Ellen at his side, giving her full support, something changed inside him.

Mason swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. He hated this—hated feeling vulnerable, hated that Ellen had brought him here without warning. But part of him knew she was right. He couldn’t keep running from this forever.

Ellen took a deep breath. Her eyes softened as she looked into his, seeing the pain he was trying so hard to hide. "You haven’t brought me to meet your family," she said gently. "I thought... maybe it’s time we meet them now."

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