Chapter 8 #2
I have dozens of missed phone calls from my dad and from Sterling, and from countless “friends.” I’ve been referring to them in my head as lookie-loos because if you haven’t spoken to me in years, I don’t know why I’d chat to you about the implosion of my wedding day.
Over the past week, I’ve listened to the voicemails from Sterling and my dad, but I didn’t delete them. That way, my inbox fills and they can’t leave more. Their messages are angry, frantic, and entitled. Basically the last thing I feel like dealing with.
But my mom? She’s another story altogether.
She...I swear she looked at me before the wedding like she had something to say.
Her lips parted, and her hand stretched out toward me.
She was so damn close. Before she could get it out, my dad walked in, told me I made the perfect bride, and whisked her away.
The expression she shot me over her shoulder as he led her out was pleading.
The phone is still vibrating in my hand, and I’m staring at it like a ticking time bomb when Jasper clears his throat and glances over at me.
Swallowing hard, I swipe to answer. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sloane.” She breathes my name like it’s the relief she’s been seeking.
“Hi. I’m . . .”
“I just need to hear your voice. Know that you’re somewhere safe.
” There’s a slight tremble in her voice, and suddenly the back of my throat aches with a ferocity that steals my breath.
My sweet, supportive mom. The one who learned to put my hair up in a perfect bun.
Who drove me to every ballet practice and recital, no matter how early she had to get up.
I’d kill for a hug from my mom right now. Absolutely kill.
Peeking over at Jasper, I reply, “I’m safe.” Because how could I feel anything but safe? The man literally broke me out of my wedding, carried me down the street, and never batted an eyelash.
Like he just knows I need him, he reaches across the center console and takes my hand. Fingers linking with mine.
I hear a ragged sigh on the other end of the line. “ Good. Good. Are you...going away for a while?” Her voice sounds almost hopeful now.
My head quirks at her odd question. I’d expected Mom to grill me about when I was coming back. “Why would you ask me that?”
I look over at Jasper again and catch him watching me. He’s listening and I don’t really care. There’s only one secret I’m desperate to keep from Jasper—that I’ve been pathetically in love with him for the better part of my life.
“Because that’s what I would do if I were in your position.” A tinny laugh follows her statement, and my eyes bug out at her admission.
I know she married into a wealthy family like her own, while her sister married Harvey and lived a quieter life on the ranch. I’ve often wondered if she’s happy in her marriage but never quite worked up the courage to ask.
“Mom, I?—”
My phone dies in my hand.
“What happened?” Jasper’s voice is all gravel.
“It...it died.” I shake my head, running her words of advice through my mind on replay.
“And what did she say?”
“She said if she were me, she’d go away for a while.”
“What about the ballet? You must need to go back soon.”
I scoff. “I took a leave to plan the wedding. So I’m off through Christmas because I opted out of The Nutcracker .”
“Why did you take a leave? The wedding is just one day.”
Slumping down further into the seat, I let the back of my head roll back and forth as I confess something that sounds so asinine my stomach curdles just saying it out loud.
“Sterling said I needed to be”—I hold my hands up in sarcastic air quotes—“present to plan the wedding and enjoy the honeymoon.”
I run a thumb over the small pink scar from where I cut myself with the massive diamond on my finger.
I should really take my ring off. I even want to take it off.
It’s not Sterling that keeps me from doing it.
It’s that I have this deep sense that once I remove it, everything in my life will change.
I’ll be a new me, and nothing will look the same anymore.
My family. My upbringing. Everything I’ve come to know.
And that scares me.
A muscle in Jasper’s jaw pops, and the skin over his knuckles thins under the pressure of him squeezing the steering wheel. “Fucking Woodcock.”
I snort a laugh. Woodcock.
“So what are you going to do?” The tip of his tongue catches between his straight white teeth, as though he’s biting it to keep himself from saying anything more.
“What do you think I should do? ”
His mouth twists. “Sunny, the last thing you need in your life is another man telling you what to do.”
I sigh and turn away to stare at the dark fields flashing past the passenger window. I’d kill to have Jasper Gervais tell me what to do. The fact he doesn’t think he should makes me want it even more.
I need someone to take charge but with my best interests in mind. Not a business. Not perception. Me . My needs.
“What would Beau do?” I murmur under my breath.
I don’t mean to say it loud enough that Jasper will hear me, which is why I start when Jasper responds with, “He’d get the fuck outta dodge and go do something for himself.”