Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Swallowing my mirth, I refocused and asked, “Why?”
Jasper froze, and I could tell by his tight expression that he was debating whether to tell me. That was fine. It was his choice. But I wasn’t going to play this game again.
Getting to my feet, I faced him and said, “Jasper, I appreciate your apology. And I accept it. Truly.” He was watching me like a hawk. “But I think we need to leave our relationship as simply professional.” I hated saying those words, an ache actually pulled in my chest, but it was true. “For some reason, we trigger something in one another, and it always ends badly.” I met his eyes. The dark-brown color held a hint of red under the fluorescent ceiling light in the barn. “I am thankful you came here tonight to apologize. But I think this is where we draw a line under . . . whatever this is. I leave soon, and we can put all this behind us.”
I cast Dahlia’s stall one last look and decided it was time for me to go home. Head down, I moved past him, when he took hold of my hand to stop me. It was déjà vu to earlier today, and just like his touch had done then, it sent sparks through my body and rooted my feet to the spot. I looked down at his hand in mine. He was gripping my fingers so tightly it almost hurt. He looked up and met my eyes, silently begging me not to go.
I exhaled a shaky breath, but Jasper coaxed me to sit back down beside him on the bench with a soft tug on my arm. In that moment, I was weak, as I went without a fight. I expected him to release my hand as soon as I sat down, but he kept a tight hold. Right now, I felt he was holding my heart in his hand too.
Jasper swallowed hard, seemingly warring with himself about lowering his high walls, when he closed his eyes and said, “The night you found me in the barn . . . The night I was drunk, was the second anniversary of my father’s death.”
And just like that, my heart fractured into pieces and understanding filled in the cracks. In this moment, Jasper looked broken. And when he opened his eyes and turned to me, his beautiful face implored me to forgive him, to understand why he’d been the way he had.
Jasper tipped his head back, taking in three deep breaths. When he faced me again, he looked terrified that he’d admitted that. Dahlia’s wide, fearful eyes sprang to my mind, and I couldn’t help but see the similarities between hers and Jasper’s in this moment. I didn’t feel like horses and people were so dissimilar. When horses were happy, you could see it in their gait. They were approachable and affectionate. When they were scared, they would run away, or worse, charge and kick out, become aggressive and aloof.
I replayed all of Jasper’s harsh words to me of late and peeled back the veil of what they must have hidden—pain, agony . . . anguish. I realized then that I didn’t really know him, not deep down. Didn’t know the secrets and silent hardships he harbored.
Like I had with Dahlia, I kept my tone soft and placed my free hand over his so both of mine were safely wrapped around his fingers. I felt Jasper relax, and hope sprung in my chest. I wanted him to open up to me. I wanted him to confide in me. Keeping in pain would only destroy a person in time, keeping too much agony inside was cancer to the soul, poison to happiness.
“You can talk to me,” I said, gently, rubbing the top of his hand with my palm. “I’m someone you can trust.”
Jasper stared at me for so long that I didn’t think he would, when his lips parted, and he said, “Since my dad died, I feel like I’ve been unraveling. And I don’t know how to put myself back together again.” His grip on my fingers tightened, and I could tell how much that had cost him to admit.
I squeezed his fingers in empathy and said, “I lost my dad when I was twelve.” Jasper nodded and searched my face. I knew he’d suspected it from our conversation on the way back from the shoot. But I wanted him to know that I understood him. I understood what losing a parent felt like. Even now, thirteen years on, the loss still hurt. Grief for a loved one never went away—it was a constant roller coaster of feeling, like a part of you was missing and knowing the devastation that it would never be filled.
“Hallie . . .” Jasper said, and I could see guilt on his face. I assumed he was regretting the way he had treated me even more now.