"Cheers!" the group shouted together, glasses clinking as the room filled with laughter. Mason lifted his glass, giving a faint nod before taking a sip of his wine.
Tonight, they were celebrating the upcoming wedding of one of Mason’s managers, Chris.
Chris, the regional sales manager for one of Mason’s biggest accounts, was grinning from ear to ear, clearly in high spirits. His friends were joking around, nudging him about his big day ahead.
"I still can’t believe you’re actually getting married, Chris," one of the men, Patrick, said, shaking his head with a mock expression of disbelief. He leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink. "I thought you were the last guy who’d settle down."
Chris laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But she’s different, you know? I knew from the moment I met her that I’d never find someone like her again. She’s the one."
Mason sat quietly, listening to the conversation unfold. He wasn’t much of a talker in settings like this, but he found it amusing to watch Chris and the others. He rarely attended events like these, but Philip had dragged him into it.
"You know," Patrick said with a mischievous grin, looking over at Mason, "I never expected Mr. Coldwell to actually show up tonight. You must be really special, huh, Chris?"
Chris chuckled, nodding. "I was surprised too. I mean, how often do you see the boss at a bachelor party?"
Mason gave a faint smile, though he didn’t feel the need to respond. He wasn’t here for the socializing; he was here out of courtesy, a gesture of goodwill to his team.
Patrick grinned and leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe we should ask Mr. Coldwell for some marriage advice, huh? After all, he’s the only one here who’s actually married."
The room quieted for a second as everyone turned to look at Mason, who simply took another sip of his drink, his expression unreadable.
Philip, who was sitting next to Mason, chuckled and patted his back. "That’s actually a great idea. Come on, Mr. Coldwell, give Chris some wisdom. You’re the only one here who’s walked down the aisle."
Mason narrowed his eyes at Philip, but there was a hint of amusement behind them. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask for advice."
"Oh, come on," Chris urged, his grin widening. "You’re just being humble, sir."
The room fell quiet again, all attention on Mason. He quietly sighed, feeling the pressure of their expectations. He wasn’t used to giving personal advice, especially on something as complicated as marriage. But it was a lighthearted request, and for Chris’s sake, Mason decided to humor them.
"Marriage isn’t about survival," Mason began. "It’s about partnership. You can’t go into it thinking it’s something you need to endure. It’s about compromise, respect, and understanding that you won’t always get along. But at the end of the day, you have to remember why you’re together in the first place."
In his and Ellen’s case, it hadn’t started that way. Their union had been one of necessity, forged from family expectations and the wishes of his late parents. It wasn’t romantic. It was an arrangement, pure and simple. The more he thought about it, though, the more complicated it seemed.
Mason leaned back in his seat, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. His mind drifted back to Ellen. When they first got married, he didn’t love her. He wasn’t even sure he liked her. She had been a stranger, someone he’d been pushed into spending the rest of his life with. But now...
Now things were different.
He thought about the way Ellen would talk, smile, laugh. Mason couldn’t stop himself from smiling, her soft giggle running through his mind.
And then there were her little antics, like earlier today. That picture she sent him. He’d laughed when he saw it. Ellen had always been more playful than she let on, her dry sense of humor catching him off guard when he least expected it.
There was something about her that drew him in, bit by bit, without him even realizing it. How long had it been since he started noticing these things about her? Had they always been there, or had he just never taken the time to look?
"Mr. Coldwell?" Chris’s voice cut through the haze of his thoughts.
Mason blinked, pulled abruptly back to reality. He glanced around the room and noticed the knowing smiles on the faces of the men around him. Their expressions were all the same, a mix of amusement and something else—something that Mason didn’t particularly enjoy. It was a teasing smile.
"What?" Mason asked. He hated being caught off guard, and the sudden shift in the room made him uncomfortable.
Philip, sitting next to him, leaned in with a smirk. "You’re smiling."
Mason’s brow furrowed in confusion. "So?"
Philip’s grin widened. "Thinking about your beautiful wife at home?"
The other men around the table snickered, nodding in agreement, their eyes twinkling with mischief. Mason froze at the suggestion.
Beautiful wife.
"No," Mason answered with confidence, trying to sound indifferent.
"Oh-ho!" Chris chimed in, raising his glass in mock celebration. "He’s blushing!"
"I’m not blushing," Mason snapped, though he could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. He wasn’t blushing—was he?
Without a word, he poured himself another drink, the amber liquid splashing into his glass with more force than necessary. The room buzzed with laughter and chatter, but Mason wasn’t listening anymore. He was focused on his drink, using it as a distraction to avoid their amused stares.
But as everyone started talking about the groom-to-be again, Mason’s thoughts returned to Ellen. He wondered what she was doing at that moment—probably relaxing at home, reading one of her novels or watching something on TV.
Was she thinking about him too? Did she ever wonder about their marriage, the same way he was wondering now?