55. Coraline
55
CORALINE
I stare at Jasper, my mind reeling as I try to process Falcone’s parting words. The papers in my hand crinkle as my grip tightens, the black ink blurring before my eyes.
“Baby,” Jasper starts, his voice low and hesitant. He takes a step toward me, but I flinch back instinctively.
“You bought my building.” It’s not a question, but a statement. The truth of it settles like a lead weight in my stomach. “And you didn’t tell me. You lied to me.”
His jaw clenches as he holds my gaze. “I didn’t lie, Coraline. I just hadn’t found the right time to tell you yet.” His voice is strained, an undercurrent of tension running through his words.
I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. “The right time? How about any time before now, Jasper? Before I had to hear it from that-that asshole .”
Anger and hurt war inside me, twisting my insides into painful knots. I feel foolish, embarrassment burning my skin like I’ve been outside in the sun all day.
He reaches for me, but I shake my head. I don’t want the comfort of his touch right now. I want fucking answers.
He looks at me, his gaze imploring me to understand. “I was going to tell you, baby. I swear. But I was trying to protect you.”
I let out a harsh laugh, the sound grating even to my own ears. “Protect me? From what ?”
Jasper runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. “From Falcone. From the shit he’s mixed up in.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as realization dawns. “You lied to me because you don’t think I can do this—you don’t think I can handle him.I live in fucking Rosewood, Jasper. I’ve been around men like him my whole life.”
My subconscious reminds me that I’m not being entirely truthful. You were scared of Falcone—and his two errand boys. Your way of handling him was just giving in to his extortion. And you had to ask your brother for the money.
I shake my head again, biting the inside of my cheek. I feel like a fool, embarrassment and disbelief circling my neck, tighter and tighter with each rotation. “I can take care of myself, Jasper.” It’s a whispered declaration, and I don’t know who I’m trying to convince: him or me.
“It’s my job and my fucking honor to take care of you. You’re my fucking woman, Coraline,” he growls out, chest heaving.
“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want to be yours.” Tears shimmer in my eyes, and when I blink, I send them rolling down my cheeks. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to take them back. I’m angry and confused, and too fucking stubborn for my own good sometimes.
I watch something shutter over his expression. He chuckles, this dark, terrible sound as he drags his palm down his face. “Just biding your time before you bail again, yeah? I should’ve fucking known.”
My brows crowd together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a fucking runner, Coraline,” he says with a dry, humorless chuckle.
I hate it. And I hate the way something inside of me is twisting up, contorting into this angry, scared woman who always needs someone to help her. And I lash out.
“This isn’t even a real relationship!”
“The fuck it’s not!” he yells back at me.
I stare at him with fire in my eyes. “We agreed it wasn’t real. We made rules. We’ve just been . . . pretending .” The words taste like ash on my tongue. Lies and twisted truths.
“Bull shit ,” he practically seethes. “You want to be mad at me, baby? Fine, be fuckin’ mad. But I didn’t take you for a liar.”
“That’s rich, coming from you, Jagger .”
A muscle flutters along his jaw as he stares at me. “I’ve never lied to you, Coraline.”
I didn’t think I would bring this up, not when it could taint this new thing we were starting. But it feels like this ship is starting to sink anyway, so might as well get the answers I’ve been waiting years for.
“Two years ago, I didn’t run . I caught you cheating on me, so I left.”
He shakes his head, his expression so severe it looks like it was carved from stone. “I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life. You know I wouldn’t do that, Coraline. I thought you knew me better than that.”
I lick my lips, tasting the salt from my tears. “I thought so too. But then I saw it with my own two eyes.”
His mouth parts, disbelief etched all over his face. “You saw me fucking someone else? Impossible because it never happened.” His voice gets loud, his frustration leaking out of him.
My mouth parts, but nothing comes out. My mind reels as Jasper's words sink in. I close my eyes, trying to remember the details of that night two years ago. The night that shattered my trust in him, in us.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, memories from that night flickering behind my lids like an old film reel. The thumping bass of the music, the sticky heat of too many bodies crammed into the clubhouse. The girls in the bathroom talking about wanting to fuck him, and the girl on his lap.
But . . . then I left. I didn’t see him kiss her or take her or anyone else to his room. I just assumed the worst when I saw her sitting on his lap. The jealousy and insecurity had blinded me, made me jump to conclusions without giving him a chance to explain. Suddenly, doubt creeps in, replacing the anger and hurt.
I open my eyes and meet Jasper’s intense gaze. “I heard those girls talking about a bet. About getting you to sleep with all of them.” I pause and swipe my tongue along my bottom lip. “They said you’d agreed to their bet. And then I saw that girl on your lap, and I just . . .”
“You left without even talking to me,” he finishes my thought, hurt radiating from him in waves.
Jasper takes a step closer, his expression raw and pained. "I would never cheat on you, Coraline. Those girls were talking shit, trying to get a rise out of you. And that girl on my lap? I pushed her off the second she sat down. But I guess you didn't stick around long enough to see that part."
Shame washes over me, hot and prickly. I avert my gaze, unable to hold the intensity of his stare any longer. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice thick with unshed tears. “I should have trusted you.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice gruff. “You should have.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me about Falcone.”
His jaw clenches and he looks away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I didn’t lie, Coraline. I was protecting you.”
Frustration surges through me. “I’m not some delicate flower, Jasper! You have no right to make decisions about my life and my livelihood without even consulting me.” My voice rises with each word until I'm nearly shouting.
He takes a step closer, his expression pained. “Baby, that’s not it at all. I trust you?—”
I take a step back and glance away. “I need to finish this order before Mrs. Hansen comes to get it this afternoon. Let’s just . . . take a second. We can talk about it later, okay?”
The silence is thick between us, bloated with all the things we said and heavier with everything left unsaid.
“Yeah, alright.” He taps his fingers on the counter twice before slowly backing away.
As he takes his first step towards the door, a sharp pain shoots through my chest and it feels like something inside me has cracked. The sensation deepens with each of his steps until it feels like a deep crevasse has been carved down my center.
It’s as if my heart is physically splitting in two, torn between wanting him to leave and desperately wanting him to stay. The weight of our unspoken goodbye hangs heavy in the air, suffocating me with its intensity.
The sound of the bell above the door echoes in my ears as Jasper walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sink down onto the stool behind the counter, my legs suddenly weak. The papers Falcone left crinkle in my hand, a stark reminder of the secrets that have unraveled between us.
I take a shuddering breath, trying to steady the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me. Hurt, confusion, and a deep ache settle in my chest as I replay our conversation, dissecting every word, every expression.
The rational part of my mind reasons that he was trying to protect me in his own way. But the hurt, impulsive side can’t get past the fact that he kept something so huge from me. I feel betrayed, like the trust between us has been shattered.
But I . . . I can understand his reasoning. And I think that’s the part that kills me the most. I understand why he tried to take care of it for me. I don’t even know how he found out about Falcone or any of it, but I get it.
The men in the Rosewood Reapers are cut from a different cloth. Their lines of black and white are vastly different from the average person’s. I saw firsthand the lengths my cousin’s men went to make sure Evangeline stayed safe in the last couple of years.
And if I can reason and understand their actions, shouldn’t I be able to give Jasper the same courtesy?
I don’t have to like it to understand it.
Why did he do it, why didn’t he tell me, how did he find out about it? Those questions are all valid. But the only question that matters is: Is this worth throwing away what we have?
The question echoes in my mind, demanding an answer I'm not sure I'm ready to give.
I let out a shaky breath and run my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots. Hurt and anger still simmer inside me, but they're slowly being eclipsed by a growing sense of regret. Regret for the harsh words I flung at him, for not giving him a chance to fully explain.
But most of all, regret for the fact that I may have just pushed away the one man who has ever truly fought for me.
Tears blur my vision as I stare down at the crumpled papers, not really seeing them. My chest feels tight, each breath an effort as I try to process everything that just happened. My heart aches when I recall the words I said in anger.
Maybe I don’t want to be yours.
I knew it was a lie before I even lashed out. They weren’t true, but in the heat of the moment, they felt like a necessary release of pent up emotions. Now, they just feel like a mistake I can never take back. Regret suffocates me, burrowing into my soul and planting roots.
I wipe my eyes, grab my phone, and pull up our text thread in the next breath.
Me: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.
My stomach twists tighter and tighter as the minutes pass. Five minutes, then ten. When we get to twenty, I give in and text him again.
Me: I’m coming over. We’re going to work this out, okay? I don’t want to give up on us. I love you.
I delete the last three words and hit send.