Throughout my life, I tried my damndest to emulate excellence. My parents worked hard their entire lives and didn’thave much other than Aged Emporium to show for it. So, I set a goal to give them something to be proud of early on. At first, their words of affirmation were encouraging. They provided me with the boost of confidence I needed to step forward. However, as time progressed, I grew more and more critical of myself—if they didn’t provide the same level of support for every accomplishment, I knew I let them down. Always being the person who volunteered to help when no one else wanted to, I bent over backward to exceed. After decades of striving for greatness, a fundamental part of who I believed myself to be cracked in half amidst my failure. Then, when I received the news about my dad’s injury, I spiraled. Suddenly, the amount of schooling I underwent no longer mattered anyway. What mattered more was whether or not I could fill my dad’s shoes, whom I hadn’t ever intended to follow in the first place. If I don’t excel in running Aged Emporium, I will let them down even more than I already have.
Letting people down doesn’t sit right with me—it never has. But lettingherdown? The aftermath of that is un-fucking-bearable. On Saturday night, I accidentally passed out on her couch after watching Truman. To my utter shock, I awoke to an angel calling my name.
“Jasper? Jasper, what are you still doing here?”
I slowly peeled my eyes open to see her—yep, unquestionably an angel. “Good morning, beautiful.” I smiled while squinting, reaching out to stroke her soft skin. Her breath hitched. I pulled her in for a kiss, but instead of giving in, she fought my pull—something she hadn’t ever done before. It almost felt unnatural. Looking into her murky green eyes, I suddenly remembered how our evening went and hastily dropped my hand. “I’m so sorry. I know you need time. I didn’t mean to—”
“I understand.” Her eyes flickered to Truman, who was perched on the couch armrest, purring. “Thank you for taking care of him. I'll take it from here.”
I ran my fingers through my hair and nodded, standing to leave despite my pounding heart pleading to stay. Her eyes glimmered with unreadable emotion. For once, I couldn’t register what she was feeling, and it scared the living hell out of me. Since walking away, we haven’t talked—at least, not like we used to. It’s been five days. Okay, sure, she has texted me about our fundraiser event, but she has resorted back to calling me “Mr. Alcott.” As much as I fancied that charade before, I have little taste for it now. Not to mention, Joy stopped by Aged Emporiumon her behalfto solidify several event preparations this week. I told Greene I would give her time and space, as she requested. I keep telling myself that waiting will be worth it, no matter how agonizing this feels.
In the meantime, instead of sulking, I’ve tried to fill my days as much as possible. I’ve worked out more rigorously during the last several days than usual, spending hours in my garage weight lifting. I’ve also been taking care of any and every project I can at Aged Emporium. From relabeling a hundred vinyl records to cleaning every single stair step, I have continually kept myself busy from 8:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. I even started sifting through our boxes of old unclaimed letters dating all the way back to the mid-eighteenth century. After reading a few tragic love letters and thinking of her one too many times, I decided that wasnotthe best use of my time. I had hoped the projects would distract me from this gaping hole in my chest. As usual, I was wrong.
I take another gulp of whiskey and sigh, staring at my ceiling. Iris isn’t the only person I haven’t heard from recently—Kai hasn’t been around much, either. I’ve seen him twice since the confession. Both times were brief. I knew telling her everything was a gamble, but if I had known this would be the outcome, Ican’t confidently say I would’ve made the same choice. If only I could’ve told her in the beginning—then she may have been able to believe me when I told her I hadn’t ever felt this way before, and it has nothing to do with Kai. Now, she’s questioning everything I’ve ever told her. How will I ever gain her trust back? I’m an utter idiot.
I glance at the time, noting that they will be here soon. I sigh again. I’mnotin the mood for company, but these guests are persistent and nearly impossible to avoid. Thankfully, I don’t need to pretend to be cheery for my parents—they know I’m a grump at my core. Sure enough, I hear my front door creak open. I slowly saunter over to the entryway, greeting them with a nod.
“How’s it going?” I help wheel my dad in.
“Better now that we’re here.” My mom winks, putting her purse on my entry table and hanging up her coat. I pick up the large casserole dish resting in my dad’s lap, carrying it to my dining table. We all settle in around the table and begin dishing up our plates.
“How have you been, son?” My dad grunts, taking a bite of my mom’s famous lasagna.
“I’ve been better,” I grumble, taking another swig of my whiskey. My mom lets out a chuckle. My dad and I both side-eye her in confusion.
“Something funny, dear?” My dad raises his thick brows.
“You two are funny, grunting and grumbling over there,” she teases. “I just love our family dinners. I’d love to do these every night if we could.”
“Nope, we’re good,” my dad and I say in unison. I lock eye contact with him for a second, and we both crack a small grin.
“So, you said you’ve been better,” my mom continues. “What’s going on?”
Ah, there it is. My mom has the tendency to pry. Honestly, she’s been doing this for so many years I don’t even think sherecognizes how much she pries at this point. I’ve gotten better at setting subtle boundaries with my parents, though, so I keep what I share with them fairly vague. “I screwed up recently, but it’s nothing new at this point. I’ll fix it.”
“Jasper, you’re always fixing something and a majority of the time, you’re doing it on your own. I hope you know your father and I are immensely proud of you. If you need anything, we’re here to help, okay?” I nod, taking a deep inhale. “Does this have to do with a certain someone who shares her name with a flower?”
“Thanks, Mom, but with all due respect, it’s none of your business.” I cut her a sharp glance. She raises her eyebrows at me and I sigh. “I let her down. I’ll leave it at that.” She gazes at me with warmth in her eyes.
“I understand,” she says quietly. “I’ll stop prying. You should know you’ve never been a letdown to us. I can’t speak for her, but unless she has told you herself, there’s a decent chance you haven’t let her down. Give it time. It will all work out the way it’s meant to.”
Unless she has told you herself, there’s a decent chance you haven’t let her down.I let that statement sink in.
“I appreciate that, Mom,” I say. We continue eating, my dad commenting on how delicious it tastes every once in a while. I catch them up on how well Aged Emporium is doing. The masquerade ball hasn’t even happened yet, and we’ve already doubled the business. In a shocking turn of events, I can hardly wait to see what Aged Emporium’s future entails. My dad beams upon hearing that news. My mom begins discussing what she’s planning to wear to the ball. After the meal, I rise from the table to walk them out, feeling woozy now as the alcohol finally hits me. As my mom hugs me goodbye, she whispers something in my ear.
“Don’t give up,” she urges. I pull away and glance at her in confusion. “I saw the way you looked at each other that morning. Fight for her, Jasper.”
After their departure, I drain my glass. I’ve only had one drink tonight, but it was filled to the brim. I settle onto my couch and lean back, resting my hands behind my head. In all my years of dating, my mom has never encouraged me to hold onto someone, and she’s met several of the girls I’ve talked to. Leave it to my girl to change my mom’s old ways.
Am I even allowed to call her "my girl" at this point? I hid the truth from her, betraying her trust. I don’t blame her one bit for wanting distance, but I’d be lying to myself if I said the distance wasn’t killing me. I’ve never ached like this for anyone before, but Greene is something else. As I close my eyes, I envision her soft, supple lips brushing over mine like a feather. I hear her melodic voice calling to me like a siren’s song. I feel her delicate skin, peppered with goosebumps as I caress her.
I need to hear her laugh, see her smile, feel her body against mine. I’m so damn hopeless, I’d even watch one of those wonky reality TV shows with her right now voluntarily. I needher.
But as much as I'm aching to be with her, I acheforher, too. If I’m feeling this lousy, I can’t even imagine how she feels. Finding out Kai never really left her side has to be earth-shattering. I wish I could support her through this, but she’s made her stance on our relationship as clear as day for now. I need to give her space… First, though, I have just one item to attend to. I begin to type out a message to her, going back and forth on whether or not to send it a few times, but in my laissez-faire buzzed state, I just send it.
Jasper
Can you please stop calling me Mr. Alcott?
