That’s my wife.
Then the sadness came whirling in like a winter storm, coating everything with ice. The heaviness in my bones returned.
No, I wasn’t his wife. Not the way it mattered.
That sting in my nose threatened tears I couldn’t cry, not yet. I’d save them for later, after I ushered this kid out of my hotel.
“This is public property,” Blaze sneered. “I can be here.”
“Correction,” I said. “We’re open to the public, but make no mistake, this is my building. And I get to say who stays and who goes. Consider yourself no longer welcome.”
“Fuck you, lady.”
I pointed to the door. “Now you’ve got a tagline for your next pair of jeans.”
He glanced back and forth between Jasper and me for a long moment. Then finally, Blaze huffed and stormed for the door, ripping it open as he walked outside. He lifted a hand, flipping us off as he crossed the front windows. Then he rounded the corner and disappeared.
“Well, that went great.” The air rushed from my lungs. “He’s going to egg my hotel, isn’t he? Do kids even egg buildings anymore? Or do they go straight for the spray paint?”
I was joking. Sort of. Right now, with Jasper staring at me, I needed to make a joke, even if neither of us laughed.
Jasper planted his hands on his hips. “What did I say about meeting with that kid alone?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know.”
“Hey.” Mateo’s hand landed on my shoulder. When had he walked over? “You okay?”
“I need to talk to Taylor and call her mother. And then call Mom and tell her to talk to Lydia.” Though I doubted Blaze’s mother had much control over that boy.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. Taylor had replied okay. “Would you make sure he’s really gone?” I asked Mateo.
He nodded. “You did good.”
“Thanks.” My eyes flooded. Pride from my brother shouldn’t have been the tipping point, but it was all too much. There were no empty spaces to absorb it. No extra strength to carry it.
Mateo squeezed my shoulder, then walked outside, following Blaze’s path past the windows.
Closing my eyes, I dragged in a calming breath. It didn’t help. Not even a little.
The heat from Jasper’s body, his warmth, hit me at the same time as his scent. Then his knuckles grazed my cheek. “You okay?”
“Great,” I lied, opening my eyes.
It was the look on his face that broke me. The concern. The fear.
The tears spilled over my cheeks.
“You’re not okay.”
More tears welled, so fast he became a blur. “It’s jet lag.”
“Eloise.”
“Don’t.” A sob broke free. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m your wife.” My voice cracked with my heart. Too much. It was just too much.
The tides of battle had turned, and I was about to get slaughtered by my own goddamn emotions.
So I buried my face in my hands to muffle the cries, to catch the tears, as the breakdown I’d been fighting for two days finally won its war.
“Hey.” Jasper hauled me against his chest, his arms wrapping me tight.
There wasn’t enough strength in my heart to push him away, so I burrowed deep, soaking his shirt with my tears and letting the words in my heart flow free.
“I know this is the end. I just didn’t expect it to feel like this. And I don’t want to end it fighting.”
I didn’t want it to end. Period.
“It’s not the end.”
I wanted this so badly, I could have sworn he’d said it wasn’t the end. My imagination was just plain mean some days and it only made me cry harder.
“Eloise, look at me.” Jasper unwrapped his arms, taking my face in his hands. He gave me a moment to get myself together and listen. “I got the divorce papers.”
Ouch. Damn it, this hurt. “I didn’t realize your attorney was sending them.”
“Not mine, angel. Yours.”
“Oh.” Guess that item was off my to-do list.
“I threw them in the trash.”
My brain was too fogged to keep up. “Wait. You did? Because there was something wrong with them or—”
“It’s not the end.”
“It’s not?”
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes searching mine. “You are my wife.”
“But you won’t even wear your ring,” I blurted, then a rush of emotion hit again. Confusion. Joy.
Too much. So I buried my face in Jasper’s shirt and let him hold me while I cried. Hard.
Was this happening? When the tears slowed, when the sobs turned to hiccups, I drew in a long inhale of his cologne and unburied my face from his chest. “Are you sure?”
“That you’re my wife?” His lips pressed against my hair. “I’m sure.”
The relief nearly sent me to my knees. But I clung to his shirt, fisting it in my hands like I was wrapping my fingers around his heart. If he ever tried to leave, I’d drag his ass back to Quincy.
Back to me.
“It’s not the end,” I repeated.
“It’s not the end.”
A laugh bubbled free. I unpeeled myself from his chest, searching those dark eyes.
They had the crinkles at the sides.
He kissed me, dragging his tongue across my bottom lip, slow and savoring. It only lasted a moment before he slanted his mouth over mine and delved, claiming every corner of my mouth.
I let that kiss sink into my weary soul, to calm some of the storm.
His shirt was soaked and wrinkled when I finally let it go.
“Sorry.”
Jasper cupped my jaw, wiping my damp cheeks with his thumbs. “You good with this?”
I nodded. Very good.
“In the car, when we were fighting, you said something.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Not today. Not after this.
“This, we have to talk about. Now.” He gave me a sad smile. “You said that I love Samantha.”
“Oh.” That was what he wanted to talk about? Really? Today?
I’d said a lot on Monday that I really didn’t want to relive. It had all been true, brutal honesty. But I still didn’t want to rehash it. There was no fight left in my bones.
“I don’t love Samantha.” He framed my face again, making sure my eyes were locked on his. “I don’t know if I ever really loved her. Not the way it should be.”
My breath hitched.
Did that mean . . .
Before I could even finish that thought, the lobby door opened and Mateo walked inside.
“Blaze is sitting on the hood of his car parked out front.”
Ugh. Major mood killer.
“Okay.” I sighed. “Hopefully he’ll give up and leave.”
“I don’t like that kid,” Jasper said, letting go of my face to haul me against his chest again. “No complaining when I’m your shadow for the next few days.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” My arms were trapped so I couldn’t give him my usual mock salute.
His chest shook with a quiet laugh.
I smiled, sagging against him. Then, because I was happy, I started crying again. “Sorry. I’m just . . . overwhelmed.”