He Made Me Pay for Five Years; Now He Regrets

Chapter Four.

Charlotte’s POV.

Mason.

As soon as my eyes rested on him, tears welled up in them, burning the back of my eyes and threatening to pour down my face any second.

But regardless of how overwhelmed I was, I felt panic rise in my chest.

I was still afraid of seeing how he would react to my return. The man I had loved with all my heart, I was afraid of what he would say, how he would look at me and dreaded the hatred I knew I would see in his eyes.

I hadn’t seen him in years.

Even when a fire broke out in prison and I’d barely managed to survive with a scarred face, even when my fingers were chopped off and I was in the infirmary, bleeding out like I was going to die, he never showed up.

I had begged the guards to call him, to tell him I was dying but even with that, he never came.

Mason looked at me with an unfamiliar look in his eyes. His gaze moved over my face, stopping at the scar that ran from my temple to my jaw. I saw his expression shift into something else…

Disgust? Pity?

I wanted to cover my face, to hide from him but for some reason, I couldn’t move.

“Sophia,” he suddenly spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm. “Take Olivia and Grace upstairs. I need to speak with Charlotte alone.”

Grace?

Was that the name he gave our daughter?

Sophia nodded and led Olivia and the crying child in her arms up the stairs. Little grape was still sobbing and she refused to look up from Sophia’s neck.

As soon as they were out of sight, Mason turned to me. He didn’t come closer, he simply stood at the doorway with his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.

Like he was about to deal with a burden he never wanted to face.

“I was released today.” I mumbled pathetically, my voice sounding smaller than I intended but that didn’t matter, I just wanted to break the awkward, suffocating silence.

“I’m aware of that.” He replied. “I sent someone to pick you up.”

“But you didn’t come. I thought you’d be there. It’s been four years since we last saw each other.”

He didn’t answer. He just looked at me with those cold, distant eyes.

“Are you still angry with me?” I asked, my chest tightening at the thought of what his response would be. “Do you still hate me that much?”

He remained silent for a while, like he was thinking about what to say before he opened his mouth again.

“What happened back then was an accident. You’ve paid the price that the law decided you deserve.” His voice sounded flat and hollow.

His words should have been comforting. They should have been a relief. But his expression remained ice-cold. His gaze refused to linger on me for even a moment.

He would rather look at the wall behind me and at the floor like it was the most interesting thing at that moment. At anything except for my face.

A painful ache shot across my chest.

“…you’ve paid the price you deserve.” His words echoed in my head.

Not “I forgive you”. Not “I’m glad you’re home”

Just cold, empty words.

I swallowed hard and tried to push down the pain. “What about little grape?” I inquired. “Why is Sophia here? Why is she the one taking care of our daughter?”

Mason finally looked at me for a brief second. His expression hardened. “Ever since I took Grace out of prison, Sophia has been the one taking care of her. She’s the only mother Grace has ever known so you should be grateful to her.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach.

“I’m her mother, Mason.” I shot back. “I gave birth to her. At the very least, she should know me as her mother.”

“You don’t expect a child like her to just accept you back.” He snapped, his tone stern. “She’s not familiar with you and you need to keep your distance from her for now.”

“Keep my distance?” My voice grew louder. “She’s my daughter! Why should I keep my distance from my own child? It’s been four years, Mason!”

Mason’s jaw tightened, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Because it’s for her own good. You can’t just rush in after four years and expect her to adjust to it. She’s a child, Charlotte. If you push too hard, you’ll only scare her away.”

I opened my mouth to argue but he held up his hand sharply.

“I’m not saying you can never see her,” he added. “I’m saying you need to take things slowly. Let her get used to you. Let her learn who you are.”

There was no point arguing.

He was right.

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” I whispered, mostly to myself than to him. “I understand.”

We both fell silent for a second or two before I spoke up again.

“Which room should I sleep in?” I asked, trying to look him in the eyes but he wouldn’t let me. “I should probably sleep alone, right?”

He stiffened, like he had not expected the question but his expression remained blank.

“You’ll have your own room.” He responded.

I had my own room.

Not the room we had shared as husband and wife. But my own room.

Because he no longer saw me as his wife. I was just the woman who had killed his sister and ruined his family. The woman who was a stranger to her own daughter.

My throat burned and I clenched my fists tightly, fighting back the urge to break down in tears right in front of him.

This wasn’t fair.

None of it was.

But a murderer like me had no right to complain.

I should be grateful that they even let me back into their lives. At least, I’d get to see my daughter again and maybe… just maybe, everything will be back to the way it was someday.