Chapter 29 #2
Jasper stands, the chair scraping softly behind him, polite, as if he doesn’t want to draw attention. He offers me his hand, his palm splayed open, eyes hopeful in that way that has always undone me. “Will you dance with me?” he asks.
I place my hand in his, the contact gentle and sincere. He leads us toward the dance floor with the same careful ease he brings to everything else.
The music is slow, built for a tender moment. Just as Talia wanted, others begin to stand, joining us. Jasper’s hand rests on my waist respectfully, his other keeping mine secure.
“Don’t move too fast, I have two left feet,” I whisper, smiling against him.
“You haven’t stepped on my feet once,” he murmurs, moving us gently.
I peer up at him. “We’re thirty seconds in, don’t test it.”
A laugh slips from him, warm enough that the corner of my mouth follows. The music blooms around us as we move, the melody settling into my bones.
“There it is,” he murmurs.
“What?” I stumble a step, but Jasper’s there, correcting the movement and pulling me back into rhythm.
“That smile.” He nods like he’s solved a puzzle. “This feels like a dream, seeing you like this.”
I look up, then lean my head back against his shoulder. “You clean up nice yourself.”
He shakes his head. “No, I mean you look beautiful, as always, but seeing you…” he pauses. “Soft.”
The word lands unintentionally wrong. My brows furrow as my heartbeat quickens. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I respond gently.
He draws back from me, searching my eyes. “Why not?”
We keep pace with the dance, my layers whispering across the floor. “I’m not a soft woman, Jasper,” I chuckle. “You know this.”
He studies my face, the hope in his eyes flickering with worry. “You don’t have to be. I mean, you wouldn’t have to be, with me.”
My hand suddenly feels sweaty in his palm, which I squeeze quickly, fighting the urge to remove myself.
I hear what he’s offering. Safety. Stillness.
A version of me that doesn’t burn so brightly it scares the room.
I sigh to myself. The man before me isn’t offering a love that will accept me as I am.
He’s asking who I’d be willing to stop being, to receive it.
The music swells, figures blurring as they move around us. Jasper drops his hand from my waist, clinging to my fingers. “Let’s get some air.”
We weave through the units as he leads me to the balcony.
The arched doorway opens revealing the moonlight spilling brightly across the stone as an invitation, or a warning.
My stomach is churning; I don’t know what I want.
What I need. The night air is cool against my skin.
I breathe it in like I’ve been under water too long.
Jasper doesn’t let go of my hand as we reach the edge.
“Florence,” he says softly. He must think if he lowers his voice enough, I won’t bolt.
I rest my forearms against the balustrade and look out to the city.
Lights glitter throughout, illuminating the sky in a purple hue.
“I meant what I said,” he continues. “It kills me, you know. Every mission. Something always happening to you…you don’t have to keep putting yourself on the front line. ”
I close my eyes. “I know, but it’s my choice to as Scott chose me as lead.”
“I know, and you have been more than a lead since you started. But Florence, you were kidnapped. Does that mean nothing to you? What if you stepped down, let Nina or Bear take over. You could still do what you love but be in a safer position doing it.” His thumb brushes the back of my hand tenderly, “I could show you different, something quieter.”
I turn to face him then.
The moon catches his face, and for a second, I see everything he’s offering me. Mornings without blood. Nights without blades. A life where I don’t flinch at shadows. A life where I am… managed.
“I don’t need quiet,” I say softly.
“You don’t know that. Have you ever tried it?” There’s no anger there as he says it, just care. Which hurts me more.
I turn back to the open world. “I have.” I pause. “And it almost killed me.” Devin always kept me hidden from the world. From family, friends. He kept me silent.
He stills beside me. “I didn’t mean—” he starts.
“I know,” I say quickly. “You never do.” That’s the worst part. I know he isn’t trying to hurt me. He’s proposing something he genuinely believes is safer.
A low rumble of thunder rolls somewhere beyond the mountains, quiet enough that neither of us acknowledges it. The first cool rain drop lands against the back of my hand, then another catches my shoulder. Tiny, hesitant. As though the sky is still deciding whether to let go.
Jasper sighs. “I just want you alive, Florence.”
I nod. “So do I.”
He growls, gripping the edge. “But you almost died, you could’ve been killed that day—actually many days.”
My thoughts weigh as heavy as the clouds above us.
I think of the warehouse. Of Kova. Of Cici’s blood on my hands.
But I also think of the way my pulse always steadies in the middle of that chaos.
The way my heart sings at the freedom we give these animals.
“We risk our lives every mission, Jasper.”
He turns, pinching his eyes. “I’m tired of risking you, Florence.”
Something breaks, a quiet fracture spreading through my heart. “Do you hear yourself?” I ask. “You’re talking about me like something that needs managing!”
He grips the back of his neck, looking above. Only a brief pause passes. “That’s not fair,” he mumbles.
“It is,” I counter. “And I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it.”
Silence settles between us, only the sound of distant thunder and the music humming inside slices through the tension.
Finally, he nods once. Identical to the way someone accepts a diagnosis. “I love you,” he blurts. “You’ve always known that. But I can’t stand by anymore and watch you incinerate yourself. If you’d just give me the chance. I could take you away from all of this.”
“And I would never forgive you for it,” I whisper. The words don’t bite. Thet don’t need to. They just… land.
He swallows, looking through the glass to our table, where Nyx sits, scanning the crowd. “So that’s it. You choose him then?”
I trace his gaze, sighing. “You’re missing the point. You aren’t competing with him, Jasper, you’re competing with me. With who I really am, I can’t change that. I won’t change me. Even if it means being alone.”
“You don’t need to be alone,” he mumbles.
“I’m not,” I state, jerking my head to the crowd inside. Greyline still sits at the table, observing the other units.
Jasper’s shoulders slacken, “I think,” he says weakly. “I’ve been loving the version of you I thought I could keep safe.” My chest tightens. He lifts his head then, eyes glassy but clear. “And that’s on me, as you’ve said before,” he continues, “not you.”
He steps back, just enough to give me space, staring out into the quiet city. A few minutes pass before he speaks again. “I get it now.” A brittle smile tugs at his mouth. “Take care of yourself, Florence,” he says. “However, that looks.”
Jasper leans in, kissing my cheek softly, as if I’m a porcelain doll on the edge of a shelf. Then he turns toward the light of the ballroom, pauses once, and adds without looking back. “For what it’s worth, loving you was the bravest thing I’ve ever done.”
Then he’s gone. And the night exhales with me.