The line went dead before I could respond. I stood there, phone in hand, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. Cassie was right. I’d let my personal life cloud my judgment, and now the damage was done.
My next call was to Eleanor. If I couldn’t fix things with Cassie, maybe I could at least salvage my relationship with the woman who’d welcomed me into her home and her life. But my call wentstraight to voicemail. I tried again and again, each attempt more frantic than the last. After several failed tries to leave a message that wasn’t an incoherent mess of apologies and excuses, I gave up entirely.
The small apartment felt cavernous without Derek and Tora in it. The silence pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. I stumbled into the bedroom, my legs barely carrying me. I collapsed onto the mattress and curled up, hugging the pillow that still smelled faintly of Derek’s aftershave. The scent was both a comfort and a knife to the chest.
I cried until my tears ran dry, my body trembling with the weight of everything I’d lost. Finally, exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted into a fitful sleep, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could wake up to find this had all been a terrible dream.
I felt the mattress dip beside me, a warm, wet sensation brushing against my neck before I could open my eyes. For a fleeting moment, my heart swelled, and Derek’s name slipped from my lips, soft and unguarded. I turned over, expecting to see him, only to find Tora enthusiastically licking my cheek before I could stop him.
“Tora!” I squealed, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his massive neck. He wagged his tail, clearly thrilled with himself as I scratched his sides with both hands. The weight of his affection temporarily anchored me, but then my heart started pounding for a different reason. Tora didn’t make his way back to theapartment on his own. Derek had brought him here, which meant he was somewhere nearby.
I didn’t know if I was ready to face him, but as much as I hated to admit it, I missed him. I missed him so much it hurt.
I padded into the living room, still in my pajamas, to find Derek kneeling in front of an open suitcase. He was meticulously folding clothes and arranging them inside with a focus that felt deliberately avoidant. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set. It was clear he wasn’t here for a chat.
“Hi,” I called softly, hovering in the doorway. My voice wavered, unsure.
He didn’t turn to look at me. “I just came to get the rest of my things, and then I’m headed back to New York.” His voice was clipped, final, like a slammed door.
“But our flight isn’t supposed to leave until Friday,” I said weakly.
“I can’t stay here another minute,” He was folding T-shirts and stacking them neatly into his suitcase. “And I have a feeling that MasonCorp won’t be footing the bill for a chartered flight. Not for me, anyway. But you can have the jet all to yourself on Friday.” He raised an eyebrow at me before he returned his attention to packing. “You earned it.”
“Can we talk about this?” I stepped closer, my chest tightening with every word left unsaid between us.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jasmine.” He gave up folding and began shoving clothes and shoes into the suitcase, his movements jerky and impatient. “I can’t trust a word you say, so why try?”
“I didn’t do this!” My voice broke as I shouted, desperation leaking through every syllable. “You have to believe me!”
“No, I don’t,” he snapped, still not looking at me.
“You said we would always trust each other!” My voice trembled, tears threatening to spill. “You said we weren’t our parents. This is it, Derek. This is the test. I’m telling you I’m not responsible for what MasonCorp is doing, and you need to make the choice to believe me and let me explain.”
“I can’t.” His voice cracked, and the sound shattered me.
“Well, can you at least look at me?” My words came out in a whisper, trembling under the weight of my frustration and heartbreak.
He heaved a deep sigh and finally turned to face me. The expression on his face stopped me cold. Hurt, raw and unfiltered, radiated from every line etched into his features. It was a look I’d never seen on him before, and it took my breath away. I leaned on the doorframe for support, the room tilting slightly under the weight of his pain.
“You broke me, Jasmine,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’ve always been the only person in my life who had the power to do that. I fucked up trusting you. Letting myself believe we could pick up where we left off as kids. Maybe you were right when you said things were moving too fast. I saw what I wanted to see, and what I wanted was something that didn’t exist.”
He shut his suitcase with a sharp click and stood, towering over me but looking anywhere but at me.
“So, the past three weeks meant nothing to you?” My voice was barely above a whisper, my cheeks wet with silent tears. I didn’t even try to wipe them away.
“They meant everything,” he admitted, his voice softening forthe briefest of moments. But then, just as quickly, his walls went back up. He walked toward the door, carefully avoiding any physical contact with me.
“Then why are you leaving?” I demanded. The tears continued to stream freely down my face.
“Because if it meant anything to you,” he said, his voice cold and resolute, “you wouldn’t have done what you did.”
“But I didn’t—” I started, but he cut me off with a raised hand.
“Just stop it,” he said firmly. “I can’t listen to any more lies. Goodbye, Jasmine.”
Derek called for Tora, who obediently trotted toward him. But then, Tora stopped in front of me, pressing his muzzle into my palm. I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around his thick neck, burying my face in his fur as I sobbed. He whined softly, licking my cheek in comfort, and I clung to him like he was my lifeline.
“Come on, boy,” Derek called again, his voice softer this time. After a long moment, I loosened my grip and let Tora go. I watched through blurred vision as Derek and Tora walked out of the apartment, the door closing softly behind them, taking my heart with them.
