Mason POV
Carina has not said a word on our way back home. She politely thanked me for the outing, got out of the car and went into the house.
I grunt inwardly as I follow her to the East Wing.
“Carina, wait,” I stop her before she can disappear into her room. “I want to talk.”
“Okay,” she nods, intertwining her fingers. Her lips are tightly pressed, and she raises her chin. “I’m listening.”
“It’s about Erica,” I sit down on the sofa. “She’s back.”
“I know,” Carina replies, still standing like a statue. “I read the article. I assume you want a divorce?”
“Why would you assume that?” I frown flabbergasted.
“She’s your mate, Mason,” she smiles sourly. “It’s not rocket science.”
“It’s complicated,” I continue. “She’s sick.”
“I should say that uncomplicate things,” she sits down in th
