Ellen sat on the long, cushioned lounge chair by the swimming pool, the cool night breeze brushing against her skin, though she barely noticed it. She hugged her knees close to her chest, resting her chin on top, her eyes distant as she gazed up at the sky.
For the first time since stepping into this strange world—a world she had only known as words on a page—doubt gnawed at her heart. Everything was so different now. The storyline that had once seemed so clear, so straightforward, had shifted, twisted into something she barely recognized.
She sighed softly, her breath mingling with the cool air. "Mason never kissed Ellen Winters," she whispered to herself. That had been a fact in the original story. In the novel, the Mason never even spared Ellen Winters more than a few cold, indifferent words. A quick, dismissive glance at best. But now, things had changed so much.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Ellen Winters never had this," she muttered, thinking back to the way Mason had looked at her recently—the warmth in his eyes, the tenderness in his touch. These were things she never expected to experience here, not with the man she knew from the story. She wasn’t supposed to be someone he cared for. Not like this.
But then, those photos of him with Aubrey popped up.
Her smile faded as she recalled the image of Mason and Aubrey, looking so perfect together. It wasn’t just the romantic poses or the way they fit so naturally side by side; it was the happiness that radiated from them. They looked like they belonged together. A match made in heaven, people would say.
Helga’s voice then echoed in her mind, the confidence in her friend’s tone unwavering. "If anyone tried to pull something like that, well, I’d be right there to remind them who’s the boss." The words had stuck with Ellen more than she realized at the time.
Helga was right. There was nothing wrong with protecting what was hers. And Mason was hers now, whether Aubrey liked it or not.
A sharper breeze swept over the pool, tugging at Ellen’s hair, but she stayed still, her focus unshaken. No sane woman would just stand by and let someone else try to take her husband. And Ellen wasn’t going to be the one to let that happen.
Her eyes flickered with resolve as she stared up at the stars. If Aubrey wanted to blame someone, she could blame fate or whatever force had brought Ellen into this world. It wasn’t Ellen’s fault that she had been thrown into this world, found herself by Mason’s side, and ruined Aubrey’s plan.
The doubt she had felt earlier, the confusion, began to fade, replaced by a quiet, fierce determination. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the night fill the silence.
Just when she was getting comfortable in the quiet, a familiar voice broke through the quiet. "You shouldn’t be out here," Mason’s voice was low but firm. "It’s cold, and you could get sick."
Ellen opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the soft glow of the moon reflecting off the pool. Her gaze drifted lazily toward Mason, who stood at the edge of the patio, arms crossed and brow slightly furrowed in concern. He looked like he had just stepped outside, his hair tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it multiple times. His eyes, sharp yet softened by the dim light, were locked on her.
"So, you care about me now?" Ellen asked, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm as she stared back at him.
Mason didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he moved silently to the lounge chair next to her and sat down. He leaned back slightly, eyes briefly scanning the darkened water before he spoke again. "It would be a trouble if you got sick," he said casually, though there was something almost playful in his tone. "I’d have to deal with that, too."
Ellen huffed quietly, her lips quirking up at the corner, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She turned her head away, directing her gaze back at the pool. The silence between them grew, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
After what felt like an forever, Mason’s voice cut through the quiet. "Something bothering you?" He spoke more gently, without the usual bite in his tone.
Ellen didn’t look at him immediately, her brow furrowing slightly as she kept her eyes on the water. Well... it was a new thing for Mason to want to know what she thought or not. To say she was surprised was an understatement. "Why do you think something’s bothering me?" Ellen asked calmly, though the question felt like a deflection.
Mason shifted in his seat, his movements subtle but noticeable in the otherwise still night. He glanced at her from the side, lifting an eyebrow. "Usually, you can’t stop talking," he pointed out, a trace of amusement in his voice. "But tonight? You’ve barely said a word. So, what’s going on?"
Ellen finally turned her head to look at him, her expression guarded. She met his gaze, searching his face for a moment. His usual teasing smirk wasn’t there; instead, there was a quiet curiosity.
"Nothing," she replied, though she knew it wasn’t convincing.
Mason didn’t press immediately. He leaned back in the chair, his hands resting loosely on his knees, his eyes flickering back toward the water. "You’re a terrible liar, you know that?" he said after a beat, his voice calm but direct.
Ellen exhaled softly, her fingers absently playing with the fabric of her pants. Her silence stretched on, and Mason turned his head slightly, watching her with a steady gaze. His presence, usually sharp and commanding, felt oddly comforting tonight.
Ellen swallowed, her throat tightening as she tried to find the right words. "What if I said it had to do with Aubrey?"