Always Been You

~Mason’s POV~

When Lola suggested that they start over as husband and wife for the sake of the children, I stopped dead in my tracks. I was on my way to her room when I overheard the conversation that they were having, and it caused me to come to a complete stop. I frequently found myself standing by the entrance in order to improve my hearing of the conversation. I continued to listen while pressing my ear against the door of the room.

“No, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, but right now, you don’t remember anything, and I can’t pursue a relationship with someone who doesn’t even know what my favorite color is.” He said this guy is up to something. He claimed her, and now he’s rejecting her. Nah, I didn’t buy it.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“Black! Your favorite color is black; you love sports cars; and you love noodles!” In a state of shock, I took a few steps backward, and as my body began to heat up, I thought to myself, “What the fuck?” How did she know that? I retracted my body into the same position I had been in prior to making the startling realization.

“Bunny, do you remember…?”

Shit!

Shit!

Shit!

I have the overwhelming urge to rip Dante Monroe apart completely. Why, in the name of all that is holy, is it taking so long for them to bring me what I ordered so that I can keep this moron quiet while he watches me steal his wife? As I was about to pull out my phone when a slap that made me see stars landed on my left cheek and I fell back a bit and found myself in Dante’s study.

“Doctor Blackwood, you might as well step inside so that you can get a good understanding of everything they are saying to each other.” The man continued while simultaneously stuffing both of his hands into his pockets and saying, “Aaaa, you’ve already entered.” As I searched for my phone, the left corner of my eye became as red as blood. “Are you looking for this?” I cautiously opened my right eye, and there in front of me was my phone. I extended my hand and grabbed the phone, but the man didn’t let go of his grip on the phone.

Dear Lord, I need help here.

“Mason, are you okay?” After waiting for a fucking three minutes, Lola asked me as she ran toward me while I bit the inside of my cheek.

“Aaaa, baby, I think I hit my head very hard on the door while I was searching for my phone. I apologize for the inconvenience.” I lied through my teeth. I was fucking eavesdropping.

“Are you also going to lose your memory? I’ve heard that when someone hits their head that hard, their memory can be permanently damaged.” My patience with her is wearing thin at this point. The man who had just slapped me continued to stare at me as though I were nothing more than a pet in his presence. This person gives off a vicious vibe, very cold and very calculative. Who is this man?

“No, baby, it wasn’t that hard. I’m going to need some ice,” I said.

“No, Doctor Blackwood, this study has a fridge; let me get you some ice while you explain why you were sneaking around behind that door.” The man pointed at the door with so much venom in him, then he walked toward the fridge and brought ice for me. He isn’t serious, is he? How the fuck do I explain that I heard them talking and that my fucking fiancee was begging another man to take her back?

“Aaah….” I yelled,

“Oh my God, Mason, I think he might have hit the door so hard, I’m taking him to my room.”

“Hold on just a second!” His thunderous voice makes me want to find a place to hide until he’s finished talking; who the fuck is this guy, anyway? “He is not leaving till he explains why he was standing on that door eavesdropping on you, too.” The man questioned: I don’t think Dante will be the one to take that drug; I think it will be this other guy; he’s going to be a pain in the rear.

“Baby, I think I need to take a little nap,” I said to Lola.

“Let me take him to my room,” Lola said, and the man walked up to me and pressed my left eye so hard that a piercing pain erupted in me. I was unable to scream as he turned me to face him as though he were giving me a friendly pat, and the devil smiled at me in a mischievous way as he did so.

“I’ll drive Doctor Blackwood home.” He said that as he searched my pockets for my car keys, pulled them out of my pocket, grabbed my hand, and led me out of the study in an authoritative manner. This man is going to be a problem.

He got in the car and told me to “fucking get in,” which is something I ought to be doing because this is my car. He climbed into the driver’s seat of my Porsche and cranked up the speed to 250 kilometers per hour. I truly hate speed; it makes my stomach turn. Why is this man making my life difficult?

“Doctor Blackwood, where did you meet Mrs. Monroe?”

“Who is that?”

“The girl you say’s your fiancée.”

“Oh, we have been engaged for like 6 years now.” After I made that statement, the man cranked up the intensity to its highest level. 300 KM/H, oh my God! The car skidded to a screeching halt right next to my residence in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The man came down, and so did I. When I did, I threw up the burger that I had eaten before going to Janet’s place. I have a tight grip on my stomach. I am pleading with God that my intestines do not come up with the vomit as well.

“Doctor Blackwood, drink some water; you should be fine.” The moron straightened out his suit jacket and then got into another vehicle that was following us.

Wait, how did he know where I am staying because I just bought this house three days ago?