*****
Gwen, Evan, and I make it all the way through dinner and dessert without bringing up Jasper. When I wonder if they’re purposely avoiding the subject, I remember that until two months ago, I hadn’t even met Jasper, and he wasn’t a regular topic of conversation anyway. Gwen would mention him in passing and would sometimes confide in me about the deeper conversations they had, but he was a stranger to me then. I thought of him as Evan’s stiff and socially awkward older brother who often said the wrong thing and planned every family event down to the second.
Gwen and I curl up together on the couch after dinner so she can show me some of the honeymoon pictures she didn’t post online. Evan is in the kitchen tidying up and has promised to bring us more wine after he’s finished.
When Gwen starts flipping through the pictures on her phone faster than I can actually see them, I know something is up. She glances over her shoulder toward the kitchen, even though we can still hear Evan in there loading the dishwasher.
“Have you spoken to him?” she asks tentatively.
I must be feeling better because my immediate impulse is to be sarcastic and ask if she means Evan. “He’s called me a few times, but I can’t bring myself to answer,” I tell her. I can’t handle hearing Jasper’s voice in my ear, knowing the things it will do to me, especially after our night together. “The last time he called, I texted him back to see what he wanted. He said he knew he should give me space, but he wanted to know how I was. He said he understands it’s too soon to expect anything from me, although he’d like to remain friends, especially since we have loved ones in common and he comes to Bellevue for visits.”
“How did you respond?” Gwen asks.
I wait a beat, uncertain how she’ll react. I’ve wanted to bring up Jasper all night—hell, I wanted to bring him up every time I talked to her while she and Evan were on their honeymoon—but I have to respect that he’s her family now. I don’t want her to feel like she’s in the middle of an uncomfortable situation. “I didn’t.”
Gwen makes a soft sound of acknowledgment.
“How is he?” I ask.
She glances over her shoulder again. Evan is still in the kitchen. “He quit his job at the bank,” she whispers.
“What?” I hiss.
Gwen nods. “Last week. He won’t tell us any more than that, but he’s been acting weird, kinda cagey. Evan says to give him time.Isay we should plan a visit to Toronto and make him tell us what’s going on.”
I give a little half-laugh at that. I can picture Gwen barging into Jasper’s apartment with her ‘let me love you’ attitude and not letting up until he spills the truth. God knows I’ve been half tempted to do the same thing over the past few weeks.
We fall silent. Maybe that’s why Jasper called me—he wanted to tell me he was quitting his job. A glimmer of hope lights in my chest, and I squash it immediately. Just because Jasper has one less thing tying him to Toronto doesn’t mean anything. If it did, he would have tried harder to get in touch with me.
That night when I go to bed, it takes me ages to fall asleep. When I eventually do, I dream about that night in Honeywell with Jasper. It’s disjointed and wrong, though—Liam is there and Jasper keeps disappearing and then popping back up in unexpected places—and I’m relieved when I finally awake with a gasp. I reach for my phone to check the time, letting out another muffled gasp when I see a text from Jasper.
I know I shouldn’t say this, but I miss you.
I blink rapidly, wondering if I’m actually still asleep and dreaming. I jump out of bed and go to the bathroom. The text is still there when I return. The time stamp is two-oh-four, just ten minutes ago. Phone in hand, I pace around the room, glancing at the screen every few seconds. I’m not sure whether I’m waiting for another message from him or for the message that’s there to magically change before my eyes and prove I’m imagining all of this.
Before I can second-guess my decision, I hit Call on his number. I’m about to hang up when he finally answers.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yesss, fine.” His words are slurred. Is it wrong that part of me finds it funny he’s drunk? I never got to see Drunk Jasper. With his need for control and order, I don’t imagine it happens often. “I’m sorry, Willow. I wished for an undo button the minute I hit send.”
“Because it’s not true?”
He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh. The low rumble of it in my ear has me clenching my thighs together. This is why I haven’t wanted to talk to him on the phone. Well, one of many reasons, anyway.
“No,” he says on a sigh. “Because itistrue, and it’s my own stupid fucking fault.”
I bite my lip. I wish I could see his face, his posture. What has he been doing since he quit his job?Whydid he quit his job? Has he been getting dressed? Shaving? Showering? Is he as much a mess on the outside as I was in those first few days and continue to be on the inside now? “I miss you too, Jasper,” I whisper. “So much. But…has anything changed? Are you willing to give us a try?”
“I…Willow, it’s not…it’s not that simple.”
“Itis, though, Jasper. It really is.” Silence stretches over the line. A wave of anxiety and sadness wash over me, telling me it’s imperative I get off the phone immediately if I want to avoid a breakdown. “I need to go, I have to work early in the morning. Be sure to put a glass of water by your bed before you go to sleep, and drink the whole thing as soon as you wake up.”
“Okay. Thank you, Willow. And I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, Jasper.” My voice is an unsteady whisper. “I am too.”
*****
