“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 doI 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.
