“You do that,” I tell her. “The city’s lovely.”
“So I’ve been told.”
I grab my laptop. “See you later?”
“Later,” she agrees.
“Oh, and I hope that in spite of everything, you still enjoyed your tour.”
Aster smiles. “Yeah. I did.”
Chapter Eleven ~ And The Walls Start Crumbling Down
Aster
“You should have seen the place,” I tell my father as we have coffee on the ninth floor. “There were so many computers, so many cool machines, so many people who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing and loved it. For a moment there, I felt like I was on a Star Trek ship.”
And Mason was the captain. The capable, indomitable captain who knew every member of his crew, listened to all their concerns and tried to solve every problem. And here I thought all he did was sit behind a desk, stare at a computer screen, make phone calls, attend meetings and bark orders. It would have been easier to hate him that way.
“The floating cameras were something, weren’t they?” my dad remarks.
I give him a puzzled look. Sure, there were floating cameras – well, flying, remote controlled ones – that recorded every activity in the facility, but they were cloaked using holography and I only knew they were there because Mason told me. I’m pretty sure I haven’t told my dad about them yet. So how does he know about them? Why is he talking like he’s seen them?
“How do you know about the cameras?” I ask him outright.
He lowers his coffee cup and looks at me. “Cameras?”
“You just said there were floating cameras,” I remind him. “But I didn’t mention them yet.”
“What floating cameras?”
I frown. He’s not having a memory lapse, is he?
“Dad…”
His eyebrows crease. “What were we talking about again?”
I exhale. “I was telling you about me going to Mason’s…”
What should I call it?
“Well, the place where Mason’s company tests the stuff they develop here.” The place where the magic happens. “And I was saying the facilities there look so advanced that it seems like something out of a science fiction movie.”
“Star Wars?”
“Star Trek.” Did he really forget everything I just said? “But I think I was more impressed by the fact that Mason’s company is helping so many people. I saw the test subjects. I even spoke to one of them. They looked happy even though they’re sick, and some of them seem to have recovered completely.”
“Well, sometimes, all people need is hope,” my father says.
So he’s back?
“Did you know that Mason isn’t just helping cancer patients?” I ask him. “He really is trying to find a way to help medical professionals diagnose and cure or manage every disease.”
If that’s not gutsy, I don’t know what is.
“And I believe he’s making progress against some of them,” I continue. “It’s just too bad that he hasn’t found a way to pin down Alzheimer’s yet.”
It’s that tricky of a disease, I guess.
“Oh, I’m sure someone will someday,” my father says.
I know. I just wish it had already happened so that my dad wouldn’t have to suffer.
He places his hand over mine. “At least Mason is trying. At least he’s already helping the ones who can be helped. Some people can’t even manage that.”
I nod in agreement. Or worse, they refuse to.
“I told you Mason was a good guy,” he adds. “But then you knew that already, didn’t you? You were only pretending not to like him so I wouldn’t suspect the two of you had a relationship.” He points a finger at me. “That’s smart.”
So that’s what my dad thinks, huh? And I can’t correct him without him knowing that my marriage to Mason is a lie. So I don’t.
I scratch the back of my head. “Well, he still does annoy me sometimes.”
My dad chuckles. “All married couples do that to each other. Just because they’re married doesn’t mean they like everything about each other. They still disagree. They still fight. Actually, they do that more often. But that’s not what matters. What matters is how they sort things out and how long they’re willing to try. As long as two people don’t give up on each other, they can make their marriage work.”
I say nothing. How can I respond to marriage advice when my marriage to Mason isn’t real?
“Besides, I don’t think Mason ever means to annoy you. He just likes to… challenge people, get a reaction from them. But he cares about you deeply. I can see that. That’s why I gave him permission to marry you.”
I look at my dad. We’ve talked about the wedding, but I’ve never asked him why he agreed to Mason’s request, mainly because it doesn’t matter. Now, I know the reason.
My dad thinks Mason really cares about me. It’s that simple. But I’m confused. If my dad thinks Mason has feelings for me, doesn’t that mean there’s a good chance he has? I know for a fact that he’s an observant man and he’s rarely been wrong.