CHAPTER 43
It was already dark outside.
A security car was parked by the gate. Two men inside; another checked the perimeter.
Nina was home again. Her home. Where everything was painfully familiar—and everything was hers.
She slipped off her coat and went straight to the security panel. The cameras were live. Front entrance, porch, backyard—everything monitored.
She let out a breath. It didn’t erase the anxiety, but it eased it.
The day kept replaying in her head. The postponed hearing infuriated her. She wanted freedom, and he still kept winning.
She dropped her purse onto a chair and walked into the kitchen. Poured herself a glass of water, took a sip—and at that moment her phone lit up on the counter. Unknown number.
Nina froze.
For a few seconds she didn’t dare answer. Her first thought was Frank.
But what if it wasn’t him?
She answered anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” a hoarse, slightly rough voice said.
A jolt ran from her neck to her fingertips. Her heart skipped.
It was Jasper.
How the hell did he get her number?
“Come outside,” he said after a pause. “Let’s take a walk.”
Nina tensed instantly.
“Outside… where?” she asked, frowning. “Jasper, what are you talking about?”
“I’m standing in front of your house,” he replied calmly. As if that were perfectly normal.
“You have to be kidding me,” she said, walking to the window and pulling the curtain aside. Of course she couldn’t see him beyond the tall fence. “Couldn’t we just talk on the phone?” she snapped.
“I had to walk the dog anyway,” he said—and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Is there nowhere else you could walk it besides my street?”
He laughed. Low. And for some reason, it sounded… too intimate.
“I’m waiting,” he said shortly, and hung up.
Damn it.
Nina rushed to the mirror. Her reflection looked startled. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her hair loose, no jewelry.
She opened the jewelry box, discarding heavy, flashy earrings. She settled on pearls. Small. Neat. Classic.
She went to the closet, slipped out of the strict black pants she’d worn earlier, and pulled on beige ones—thick fabric, high-waisted. They fit beautifully. Then a black turtleneck, tucked in. A cream-colored coat on top. Brown boots with a low heel.
One last look in the mirror.
Not bad. Too good, even. Like she was going on a date.
She swiped clear gloss over her lips, lightly darkened her lashes.
Nina froze and scowled at herself. What was she doing? When had she gotten so bold?
She rolled her eyes and grabbed cream-colored gloves anyway. It was chilly. And her heart was pounding like she was eighteen again. Back then, he’d been the unattainable guy she’d fallen for—who’d turned out to be a bastard. Now he was a man who could knock the breath out of her with a single look.
And damn it… he was waiting outside her house just to talk, walking his dog.
He really was standing by the driveway.
Gray jacket. Dark jeans. Heavy boots. A leash in one hand, a dog toy shaped like a rabbit—clearly well loved—in the other. Beside him sat a massive German shepherd in a muzzle. Intimidating, but calm. Just sitting there, looking up at its owner.
Nina stopped a few feet away. Her heart was racing. Jasper turned his head and looked at her. Carefully. Calmly. It only made things more awkward.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Almost fine. My leg still aches if I overdo it. Otherwise—good as new.”
She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, the security a few steps away. The sight steadied her instantly.
“So what did you want?” she asked.
Jasper nodded toward the sidewalk along the road, lit by streetlamps.
“Want to walk a bit?”
Nina hesitated for only a couple of seconds.
He took one step, then another, without waiting for her answer, just started walking. The dog trotted along beside him.
Nina looked at his back, then at her boots.
And followed.
The security team followed them.
Nina caught up with him, matching his pace.
“So you seriously came all this way just to walk your dog?” she asked.
Jasper didn’t turn around. He smirked.
“Seriously. Or did you think I dragged him here for no reason?”
“Honestly…” she snorted. “At this point, nothing surprises me.”
“Good. That means progress. By the way, this guy’s name is Russell.”
They walked slowly. The dog occasionally glanced her way, and Nina did her best not to show she was slightly intimidated, muzzle or not.
“He’s a former service dog,” Jasper went on. “I took him in after his handler was killed by some bastard. Russell was shot back then, too.”
Nina glanced at him. He said it calmly, almost casually. But she could feel it—there was a lot more beneath that even tone.
“Is he friendly?” she asked.
“Only on holidays,” Jasper smirked. “And today isn't one.”
She huffed out a quiet laugh, and for a brief moment something appeared between them—something normal. Human. As if this were just an ordinary walk, and they were just a man and a woman.
But Nina knew better. Normal was never going to be their story.
Suddenly she tripped on a stone. It all happened in a second—losing her balance, arms flailing, a sharp intake of breath.
“Careful.”
Jasper grabbed her by the waist, firm and sure. The next second she was pressed tight against his chest.
They froze.
Nina could hear his breathing. Smell him. Her head spun—not from the stumble, but from how close he was. Too close.
He was looking straight into her eyes. She was looking into his.
Then, almost as abruptly as he’d caught her, he let go. Took a step back. Dropped his gaze. His jaw was tight.
“Sorry,” he said hoarsely.
Nina swallowed. For a moment she didn’t know what to do with her hands, or where to look. The air felt thick, heavy. She wanted to say something neutral, something harmless, just to break the tension but her tongue felt stuck.
He hadn't apologized for the move. He’d apologized because her words made the touch forbidden. Because she was the one who had drawn that line between them—out loud, with words that still hurt.
“There’s a dog park here,” Jasper said, breaking the silence. He unclipped the leash, removed the muzzle, and tossed the dog his toy.
Russell snorted happily, spun in a circle, and took off.
They walked over to a bench and sat down. Jasper on the left, slightly turned toward her. Nina sat upright, hands folded neatly on her knees, staring straight ahead, deliberately avoiding his gaze. The security team stayed back; she glanced at them and felt a little calmer.
Jasper reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and held something out to her.
A business card.
Nina took it, looked at it, and her eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A psychologist’s contact,” Jasper replied evenly.
She looked up at him.
“I know how to read,” she said dryly. “That’s not the question. Why do I need this?”
“Because you don't have to carry this alone.”
A second passed. Then another. Inside, something twisted painfully.
“I’m doing just fine,” Nina snapped, irritation flashing. “Or do you also think I’m crazy and unstable?”
“Nina,” Jasper interrupted calmly, “I think you’re human. And humans are allowed to break. Especially when this much comes down on them at once. A divorce. Betrayal. An accident. A trial. Pressure from every side. You’re a woman—not a machine.”
Nina lowered her eyes.
It felt like someone had placed a brick on her chest, slowly stealing her breath. How many times had she told herself she couldn’t be weak. That she couldn’t show how much it hurt. That she couldn’t fall apart.
And now this man was telling her that she could.
And somehow… it didn’t sound like a slap in the face.
Nina turned away, pretending to watch Russell as he kept tearing happily around the perimeter of the park. Inside, though, she felt hollow and heavy. And there was no one she could really talk to.
“Going to a therapist is kind of fashionable these days, by the way,” Jasper went on with a faint smirk.
Nina looked down at the business card again. Small black print. A woman’s name.
“Is this… someone you know?” she asked.
“Yes. A trusted professional. Completely confidential—you don’t need to worry about that.” He paused, then added quietly, “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t sure.”
She snorted softly and slipped the card into her coat pocket.
“You’re taking on too much,” she said tiredly.
"It’s just advice. And it’s better than swallowing the crap I took away from you last time. Mental health matters as much as physical health. That’s the doctor in me speaking.”
Nina bit her lip. She wanted to argue. To tell him he had no right to interfere in her life. But she couldn’t.
Because he was right.
She lifted her gaze and looked at him. Jasper sat relaxed, hands in his jacket pockets. It was already March, but the air was still cold and damp.
Russell ran back, dropped a stick at his feet. Jasper leaned forward and threw it into the darkness. The dog launched himself after it and disappeared into the bushes.
They both fell silent. Everything around them seemed to freeze. Not a soul in sight—just the two of them, and the security detail watching at a distance.
Nina tightened her fingers on the fabric of her coat over her knees.
“I’ll think about it,” she said at last.
“That’s already something,” Jasper nodded.
They just sat there in silence, like two broken souls who no longer needed explanations.