“Sit down.”
“I don’t want?—”
“Jasmine Rose.” Her mother said it in the voice that had exactly one meaning, which was that the conversation about whether to sit was over. “Sit. You need to see this, all right?”
Jasmine sat on the edge of the sofa, arms folded, jaw set. She directed her eyes at the wall slightly to the left of the screen.
She heard him anyway.
She heard him say the wordsstupid, arrogant betandmade in a bar,andI own every one of them,and despite herself, her eyes moved to the screen, because his words and tone were working the anger out of her. They were softening her up, in spite of herself.
She heard him say her name.
She heard him refuse to let the story stand as it was being told. She heard him saythe scandal belongs to me, not to her. She felt it move through her despite the folded arms and the days of distance she’d built between herself and anything that had his name on it.
She heard:she has more courage and more honesty and more genuine grace than anyone I’ve met.
She heard:the past weeks have been the best of my life.
She was no longer looking at the wall.
She was watching the screen, both feet flat on the floor now, the book she’d been pretending to read long since abandoned.
The press conference cut away to commentary, and her mother turned the volume down and looked at her.
Jasmine looked at her hands in her lap. “Before you say anything?—”
“I’m not going to say anything,” her mother said serenely. “I heard about it on the radio in the car, and I just thought we should watch it, is all.”
“I need to think.”
“Of course.”
“This doesn’t automatically fix?—”
“Of course not.”
“Mom.”
“I’m agreeing with you.” Her mother smiled slightly, the picture of patience.
Jasmine stood up and went to the window. Could she trust Nate? Could she believe him?
She wasn’t sure. He seemed genuine at the press conference. Why get up there and say all those things? It wasn’t like they did him any good. The only reason would be that he genuinely cared for her.
Or he wanted to save face and win her back just so he wouldn’t feel like the bad guy. Honestly, nothing felt off the table right now. The world felt like it had been turned upside down.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door.
Jasmine turned around. “Are you expecting someone?”
Her mother was already halfway to the door.
“You should see who it is first,” Jasmine said, but her mom was already opening the door.
And there he was, standing at the threshold.
Nate.
