CHAPTER TEN: CONSTELLATIONS

The winter sun could melt away
I warm up with each word you say
The stars they point my mind to you
They show me what's always been true

You were right on time

(Right on Time, Jems)

WEDNESDAY
ALICE

"Alice?"

I glance up to spot Angela hovering nervously by the cabin door, and quickly look back down to the image I was editing on my laptop. Tanya's smiling face stares back at me.

"You haven't seen James, have you?" I ask, just as Angela toes into the room.

"No," she answers sadly. "I thought maybe I'd find you both here."

I drop my hands off the laptop keyboard, letting out an exaggerated sigh. It's been four hours and James has yet to return - I'm knee-deep in nerves, convinced that James has either been eaten by a coyote or lost to the wilderness. How didn't I see this coming? I've had time to worry about everything else - how didn't I think to worry about James, too?

"Is everything okay?" Angela tentatively asks.

"Perfect," I answer bitterly. Too bitter to be directed at someone who's done absolutely nothing wrong.

Angela walks further into the cabin. I know what she sees: James' bag; open and half-emptied, his clothes scattered all over the floor, his unmade bed, and our equipment piled high in one corner. I've been taking inventory of it all on repeat for the past few hours.

"Everyone's talking," Angela tells me. She flattens out the quilt on James' bed and takes a seat. I can feel her eyes on my back. I don't turn away from my laptop, hopeful that Angela can't see the red polluting my face from where she is. "Carmen thought it looked like a lover's quarrel."

I shift nervously in my seat.

" - but I don't think Jasper is really James' type." Angela's joke breaks the tension, just barely. I let out a nervous tick of laughter and turn to face her. She smiles at me, but I see the pity lingering in her eyes more than anything.

"I guess you never know," I reply.

She chuckles a little. "Guess not." Angela says, before going quiet. She's waiting, I presume, for me to start filling in details. I don't. Instead, I make a good show of studying the rug on the floor.

"We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to - "

I look up, into Angela's warm brown eyes. As long as I've known her, she's been a quiet, gentle person. She keeps to herself, much like Bella - probably why they get along so well. Angela doesn't push, which I'm endlessly grateful for. Right now, I don't want to talk. I don't want to think about Jasper or James at all. I just want to work, and seclude myself until this whole situation blows over.

" - But you shouldn't just keep yourself locked away in here all night," Angela says, like she can read my damn thoughts. "You already missed dinner."

I purse my lips, eyes darting back to the ground. Oh, look. There's an ant over there. She stays quiet, patiently waiting for me to stop acting like a criminal mid-interrogation. Get over yourself, Alice. Talk to her.

"It was just so embarrassing," I finally mumble out. "I don't think I can face everyone."

"You're not the one who should be embarrassed," Angela reminds me. "James was the one being … dramatic."

"That's very diplomatic of you." I laugh a humourless laugh, doing all I can not to roll my eyes.

"Well -"

"Dramatic went out the window when he spat on Jasper's boots, Angela. He spat right on his boots. That's got to be like, a criminal offense around here."

"Well," Angela tries again, barely acknowledging my outburst, "no matter what happened, James is nowhere to be found. Jasper, on the other hand …" she trails off, eyes glancing towards the open cabin door.

"Where is he?" My question comes out all too quick, eliciting a smile from Angela.

"Hovering," Angela says knowingly. "He's, uh, he's been walking circles between here and the mess hall. I think he's waiting for you."

My entire body floods with warmth. If I didn't have feelings for Jasper before - something I'd been trying to convince myself - I certainly do now. He is patient. Protective. Non-reactive. In the face of angry, vindictive, cynical James, Jasper was still. He was level-headed. It's admirable, really. I'm lucky to have him on my side.

"I don't know what to say to him," I mumble.

"Maybe Jasper doesn't know what to say either," Angela suggests. "But I know that if you sit here all night worrying about it, you're only going to feel even worse. Come outside. Join us for a little while. Take your mind off things."

I glance back towards my open laptop, Tanya's image still open and half-edited. I have another few hundred photos just like it, all of which need combed through. "Maybe," I say. "I've got a lot of work to do." It's a half-assed excuse, but Angela accepts it nonetheless.

She nods, stands from James' bed. "Alright, well, Kate's been bugging Peter about having a campfire for days now and the poor guy finally cracked. They're setting everything up now. You should come. At the very least, you'll be shrouded in darkness. Might make it a little easier to face the crowd," Angela quips.

"Isn't it supposed to rain?" I reply. One last excuse.

"It was," Angela corrects. "Apparently the storm is uh, hovering over the gulf, or whatever."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah. I guess I'll come."

I agree to go to the campfire for Angela's sake, and Angela's sake alone.

She leaves me alone - finally - and I take the opportunity to do something I've been meaning to do since last night. I take out my phone, pulling open the oldest text chain I have going. Quickly, I type out:

So... I may or may not have kissed a cowboy last night.
I may or may not be freaking out. SOS!

I send the message off to Bella and quickly lock my screen, trying not to dwell on the feeling of vulnerability that arrived the second my message sent. Kissing the cowboy is one thing, admitting it to anyone, let alone myself, is another.

But I did. I kissed him.

I kissed him, and I liked it.

I kissed him, and I want to kiss him again.

Which is all terribly, tragically wrong. Because the one thing I know, the one thing I'm absolutely certain about, is that I cannot - will not - kiss him again. Not if I want to keep my heart in one piece.

I wait for a reply from Bella, but when one doesn't show I succumb to the knowledge that she's probably with my brother. If I hold my breath waiting for her advice, I might just pass out. I could text Esme in the meantime, but talking boys with my mother feels all too infantile. I can't make myself do it.

I'm left to sit and stoop, untangling threads of logic and emotion with unpracticed hands.

By the time I actually pull myself out of the cabin, the entire world around me has turned dark purple. It's still uncomfortably humid, but a strong breeze of cool wind pulls the smell of smoke towards me. I follow it until I hear the strumming of acoustic guitar and see, off in the distance, the oranges and yellows of a glowing fire. Peter is playing guitar again. He's singing to a crowd of twelve or so, all gathered around on logs and stumps and stones, set out in a semicircle. Jasper sits on Peter's left, Charlotte on his right. Everyone else is turned away from me - dark silhouettes against the roaring fire.

When I get closer, Jasper's eyes land on me. He watches me through the flames, his stoic face almost intimidating when lit with such stark shadows and light. I find Angela, thanks to her distinctively dark head of hair, and squeeze into an empty spot beside her. I put on a smile; not only for her sake, but for Jasper, who continues to watch me like a hawk.

Angela turns to look at me, nudges my shoulder with her own. "Hey," she whispers, "glad you came."

I force my smile a little wider. "Me too," I say, looking back towards Peter.

His guitar playing is calming. So is the warmth of the fire, surprisingly, even in the early-summer heat. I'm nowhere near relaxed, but this environment could be, on any other day, pretty relaxing. I could potentially like this whole campfire thing.

Angela nudges me again and I look in her direction to spot a plump, juicy marshmallow in her hand. "Want one?" I smile - for real this time - and take the sweet from Angela. I thank her before popping the marshmallow in my mouth. It's gooey and sugar-sweet, a tiny jolt of pure goodness at the end of a complicated day.

Across the fire, I catch Jasper smiling. The particular curve of his lip, right in this moment, shoots straight through my heart. It's not a happy smile - nothing like the goofy, toothy grin he wore last night. This smile is softer. Sadder. Weighed down by uncertainty, and a whole complicated day of his own. I can't avoid the thoughts that bombard me at the sight of him.

Look at his face. That's your fault. All that sad? That was you.

And you're only going to hurt him more, if you try to make this ridiculous thing work. You'll both end up hurt.

… But look at his face. His eyes are so still - I've never seen someone with such focus. He's smiling at you. Or trying to, at least. Maybe it's not sad. Maybe it's worried.

He's beautiful. So beautiful.

You can't do this, Alice. You can't have him.

I want so terribly to be a pillar of strength. Tonight, I feel closer to a pillar of sand. One good gust of wind, one change in tide, and I'll just melt away.

"Alright," Peter says. "I need a drink. Someone else have a turn." He holds out the guitar for a second, and when no one jumps at the opportunity to grab it, Peter turns to hold it in Jasper's direction. "Whit?" He asks.

Jasper looks up from the fire only long enough to laugh at his friend.

"Oh, c'mon, man! Jus' one song."

Jasper shoots Peter a look, like 'what the fuck are you doing', and gives an over-exaggerated shake of his head. "Nah," he says, "I'm good. You do another one."

Charlotte leans out so she can see past her husband, and she smiles brightly at Jasper. "One song, Jas," she reiterates. "Play your favourite!"

Jasper turns his head up, finds me across the campfire. I quirk an eyebrow in response,

"Come ooon," Peter draws out. He wiggles the guitar he's holding out to Jasper, and the blond finally takes it with a reluctant huff.

"Fine," Jasper says. "One. Just one." He clears his throat and sits up straighter - an action I find myself mirroring. Jasper settles the guitar in his hands and takes a moment to orient his long, hard-worked fingers on its strings.

My heart is racing. I'm sweating, like, a lot. All those feelings I've been burying down, down, and further down since last night come bubbling up one by one: lust comes first; overwhelmingly present, followed close by admiration, fear, uncertainty - I feel like I might just explode, and the man hasn't even started playing yet. If he can sing, too? I might just pass out.

Within the first few chords, I place the song. My beating heart lodges itself in my throat, hard and uncomfortable. I stop breathing. I stop thinking.

"May God bless and keep you always," Jasper sings.

I grip the log beneath me with both hands.

"May your wishes all come true."

I know what words are next without hearing Jasper sing them.

…

"Settle down, sweetheart," she urges. "Close your eyes. Tell me what's next."

"May you always do for others," I add, my half-sung words muddled up with hers. "And let others do for you."

"Close your eyes," she whispers again. I do. But I keep a tight hold on her hand, even though my two little ones are barely big enough to cover her fingers. I don't feel like it's enough. I can't hold on. She's not going to stay. I can't keep her here. I open my eyes."May you build a ladder to the stars, and climb on every rung," she sings, eyes narrowing at me playfully when she sees I've opened my eyes. She just shakes her head, singing on. "May you stay forever young."

Those words I remember. I sing them along with her.

"Close your eyes, Mary Alice," she insists."Do another part," I whisper back. "Do the whole thing." That'll keep her here.

"Only if you sing along with me … and close your eyes. You need to sleep."

"But Mama, you're gonna leave me," I whine. I know it's true.

"Now, now. Enough of that. I'm not moving an inch."

…

A white blob appears in my peripheral vision. I jolt, eyes turning quickly to the object in surprise. It's another marshmallow, held out by Angela.

"Al, are you good?" She whispers, lowering the thing. "You look freaked." I barely hear her over the ringing in my ears.

"Yeah," I manage. "Yeah. I uh - I'm going to - I'm not feeling very well. I'm gonna - go inside." I lie. I don't know where I'm going. Anywhere that's not here. Anywhere I'm not forced to listen to this song.

I look away from Angela and force myself up onto my feet. I turn, and step directly over our log bench in my desperate attempt to escape quickly. If everyone is staring, I don't see it. My eyes are trained on the horizon line. The empty fucking horizon line.

I need to get out of here.

Where the hell am I going to go? There's nowhere to go.

I walk and walk and walk, following one of the endless dirt trails that wind through the property. When I reach a length of log fence, I follow that, using the old, cracking wood to keep myself upright. There are no people, or animals, or buildings in sight. Part of me is relieved. The rest of me is terrified, wound up in the grasp of a massive panic attack.

Even way out here, I can't breathe. It's just the humidity, I try to tell myself. The air feels different here. You're okay. You can breathe. You're going to be okay. You just need some space. Let it pass through you.

And I know it - deep down I know I'm going to be okay somehow, but my body hasn't quite caught on. That thought keep moving forward, albeit shakily, until I reach a turn in the fence I'm following. It seems just a good a place as any to rest my weary body, so I stop. I turn my back and lean it against the post, sliding my way down to the ground.

The grass is cool beneath me, and soft. The wood behind me is hard. I can hear cicadas. I can hear the wind. I see trees, and more trees, and a dirt path way off in the distance. When I look up, I see the sky. Dark purple. Maybe blue. I keep listing things around me, distracting my mind to the best of my ability while calming my body with deep, even breaths.

I tell myself exactly what my parents would. This will pass. You are safe.

When calm seems achievable, I close my eyes. I see her face, round and happy and blue-eyed. She's smiling at me.

Bad idea.

I force my eyes open, palms going flat out against the grass. I go back to my facts: The grass is cool beneath me, and soft. The wood behind me is hard. I can hear cicadas. I can hear the wind. I see trees, and more trees, and a dirt path way off in the distance. When I look up, I see the sky. Dark purple. Maybe blue. There is something cold on my cheek.

I reach up, shaky fingers stretching out to find whatever lingers there. It's only when I feel wetness on my face that I realize I've been crying. I lift my other hand, furiously wiping at both cheeks, but the wetness doesn't stop. It's pointless.

I drop my hands back down to the ground and let myself be, tears and all.

I sit, and stare, and pray for this moment to pass. I try to hold on to something - anything - any kind of thought that doesn't involve her, or that stupid, stupid song. But I can't get it off my mind. With all the possible songs he could've chosen, why did it have to be Forever Young? Someone must have told him, I think, paranoia skyrocketing. He knows. He knows what happened.

Frustration bubbles through me, forcing more tears down my face. I want to scream, and yell, and blame the mess of ugly emotions I'm feeling on something. Someone.

"There you are." His voice pierces through me, dragging me out of my mind.

I only peek up long enough to confirm it's Jasper approaching. My body reacts before my brain does, hands flying up to furiously rub tears off my face. Jasper gets close faster than I expect, and by the time he's only a few feet away, my eyes are still wet, my breath still shaking my chest. I know that if I look at him directly, I'll just start crying again. So I don't look. I keep my head down, my posture stiff.

"Hey," Jasper says, voice low and soft. "What's goin' on? Are you okay? Did I -"

"Don't. Just - don't say anything."

Jasper stops dead in his tracks. "Okay," he cautiously agrees. There's a long pregnant pause before I see his boots shuffling closer and closer, footsteps muffled by the thick bed of grass I'm sitting on. He stops just to my right and turns, eventually lowering down to sit at my side. He stretches out one leg and keeps the other one bent, a hand resting on his knee. Jasper doesn't speak.

I sniffle, rubbing at my nose with the back of my hand. "Who told you about that song?" I demand, voice shaking.

Jasper laughs beside me. "Uh, Bob Dylan?"

"You know what I mean," I snap back. "Who told you? One of the girls? It obviously wasn't James."

"Wait - Alice," Jasper hurriedly says, sensing that this is far from a joking matter, "no one told me anythin'. I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

"That song," I force out, like the words had been burning my mouth. "That's - It's just - it's important to me. It's -" I don't mean to tell him. I don't necessarily even want to. But I do. I'm so tired, and sad, and confused, and humiliated - I just need someone to understand. "My mom," I say, and the second I do, I see realization flash across Jasper's face, "she used to - she would sing it to me. She taught me the words. It's - I just -" The tears threaten to start again. I turn my face away. "It's my favourite song," I meekly finish.

Jasper takes his time in responding. I listen to him breathing, the rhythmic ins and outs just enough to keep me from falling back into a puddle of tears. I hear him sigh, eventually, and then a strong, warm hand lands on my shoulder.

"Alice … how would I have known that? How would they have known that?" Jasper gently questions, trying to ease my anxieties.

"I don't know," I snap back, still sniffling. "I thought maybe Bella told Angela and - and maybe she told you, and -" God I feel so stupid.

Jasper shakes his head slowly, shifting to move his body closer. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was about to hug me. "I'm sorry," he whispers, only loud enough for me. "I had no idea. I didn't mean to upset you." He rubs his thumb along the skin of my shoulder, raising goosebumps over my skin.

When I fail to react in any way, Jasper drops his hand. "You know, my Dad used to play Forever Young all the time on the radio when I was a kid. He would turn it all the way up and dance my Mum 'r Rose around the kitchen, doin' his best Bob Dylan -"

"I don't want to talk about it," I pronounce. "I can't. Not right now."

Jasper nods, his mouth closed tightly.

We sit in silence for a long time. The sky turns from purple to black. Stars multiply from two to four to eight hundred in what feels like seconds, only serving to remind me that I'm thousands of miles away from home - from Esme and Carlise, who kept with singing me to sleep with the same tune every night I lived in their house, from Edward, who taught me how to play it on the piano, from Bella, who knows every dark, terrible moment of my past. I want to be home so badly it suffocates every other emotion I'm capable of feeling.

I don't know how long we stay like that, just watching the dark, but it's long enough for my eyes to stop stinging with tears. It's long enough for my breathing to ease into the same rhythm as Jasper's. It's long enough that when Jasper finally speaks, it startles me.

"That's Jupiter up there - the really bright one," Jasper says, pointing a finger up towards the sky. I draw a line from where he's pointing up to the sky, sourcing out the brightest spot among a million spots.

"Really?" I ask, voice more sturdy than I expect it to be.

He nods his head. "Jupiter is two and a half times bigger than all the other planets in our Solar System combined. You can see it almost all the time out here," he tells me, awakening a sense of smallness in me. Jasper moves his finger, pointing towards another cluster of stars. "That one there, that's Saturn - sits right at the bottom of the Libra constellation, see? Kinda like a triangle with two legs?"

"I see the triangle," I mutter back.

He lowers his finger a little and I squint, trying to see what Jasper does. "It's a little whiter than the other stars. Right there."

"Oh." There it is. I feel strangely self satisfied when I find the planet. I turn my head to look at Jasper. He's not smiling - in fact he's almost frowning - but seems wholly content out here, sitting in the grass. "Where'd you learn all this?" I ask him quietly.

"Rose," Jasper answers. "She's always had her head up in the stars - more literally than most. Our Mom sorta showed us a few things as kids, 'n she just took it from there." I pull my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms tight around my knees. Jasper keeps filling the quiet, his smooth voice easing me back into calm. "It's what she's studyin' in school now. Well - a much more complicated version of that. Astrophysics. God only knows where she got that big brain of hers," Jasper chuckles.

"That's why she's in Houston," I clarify.

Jasper nods his head curtly. "Yeah," he says. "But, uh, when she was still around it was something we did together all the time. We'd find a spot 'n sit - sometimes she'd have me drag out her telescope - 'n then we'd just try to find everything we could. It was the only thing we had in common sometimes. Kept us both calm."

"It is calming," I agree, eyes turning to the sky. "We don't get stars like this in the city. You're lucky if you can even see a few. But this - this is like - like you can see the entire universe from this one spot."

Jasper breathes out a little laugh.

"There's so much out there."

"There is," Jasper agrees.

Looking up at the stars I finally feel like I can orient myself here, on Earth.

My panic evaporates, leaving my body with each slow breath I take into my lungs. I'm still shaken, more upset than I've been in awhile, but I feel strong enough to use my voice. Finally, I'm able to tell Jasper what I've been thinking all afternoon.

"I'm sorry about what happened between you and James," I softly say.

Jasper doesn't react at first. He stays still for a count, and then leans back against the fence with a weighty sigh. He turns to look at me, eyebrows furrowed together. "He was upset, Alice. He had a right to be upset."

I frown. "At me, maybe, but not at you. You did nothing wrong."

Jasper's eyes dart down to the grass below us. He clears his throat, shakes his head. Even in the dark, I see his jaw clench tight.

"... Jasper?"

"He told me," Jasper finally admits. "He told me. Yesterday mornin', he told me. He told me that he had a thing for you, 'n I … gave him restaurant recommendations."

"Wait, what?"

"For a date. With you."

"What?"

"Because I didn't know - I wasn't sure - I didn't - I didn't know if there was anythin' here, with us. I wasn't sure. And he - he seemed more than sure. The way James put it, romance was inevitable for you two. So I helped him. Then we went out, you know, and I swear I didn't have any intentions, but -"

"Things happened," I quietly reply.

"Yeah," Jasper says. "I'm sorry. I should've told you."

"No," I insist, shaking my head. "Don't be sorry. It's okay. I probably would've done the same thing. I would've just kept my mouth shut. It's a complicated situation. I mean, you've known us for all of two days."

"Almost four," Jasper answers, "but I still feel bad. He thinks I stole you away or somethin'."

I scoff and shake my head. "I was never his," I say, voice ringing clear. Jasper needs to understand what I'm saying without a question of doubt. "James and I have known each other for a long time. He's always been a loyal friend to me, you know? I just - I didn't know he felt anything more than that. Or maybe I did," I admit. "I don't know. Maybe I didn't want to see it. Relationships … they only complicate things."

I don't realize the implications of what I've said until after the words leave my mouth. I backpedal immediately. "I mean, James and I aren't right for each other. We're better off as friends because I've never been interested in him any other way. I can't change that, even if he wants me to."

"No, you can't," Jasper quietly agrees.

"And I shouldn't have told him about last night," I sheepishly admit to Jasper. "I don't know why I did, really. I just - I think I needed someone to talk to, and he was a friend. Or - I don't know. I thought he was, but I guess I'm not the best judge of character. I shouldn't have trusted him."

"Don't say that. Everyone makes bad choices. Doesn't make 'em bad people."

I turn my head quick in Jasper's direction. "You're defending him?"

Jasper shrugs his shoulders. "No, not exactly. I just think he's operatin' with his heart at the wheel instead of his brain. And sometimes your heart makes you do real stupid things." His mouth works its way into that same smile from the fire - the heavy, uncertain one. I try to smile back, but I can't manage more than a grimace. I know exactly what Jasper's talking about. Last night, neither of us had a brain at the wheel. And just like he said: your heart makes you do real stupid things.

We fall into a deep stare, blue meeting honey.

"Jasper," I say, toeing towards the subject of our unexpected kiss.

"I know," he interrupts. "I know what I did last night was wrong. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you."

My lips part, eyes going wide in surprise. Of all the reasons why last night was wrong, the idea of Jasper having taken advantage of me never crossed my mind. "Taken advantage? What are you talking about?" I demand.

"I just - I thought -"

"Taken advantage," I repeat, letting out a huff. "I kissed you, remember?"

"Yeah, but I kissed you back," he dutifully defends.

"Jasper, don't be ridiculous."

He frowns, eyebrows furrowing together above his nose. "But I did, I -"

I shake my head, not letting the man finish his thought. "I wanted you to kiss me back. I - if anyone took advantage of anyone last night, I took advantage of you. I was the one pouring tequila down your throat. I was the one who pulled you back out on the dance floor. I was the one who kissed you. I should be the one apologizing for what happened last night. I'm -"

"You're apologizing," Jasper finishes, like he's finally solved some complicated equation.

"Yeah," I say. "I am. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm the one who can't - I shouldn't have - I shouldn't have started something I can't finish. So, yeah, I'm apologizing."

Jasper deflates beside me. "Ah," he says, as if that's enough. His face goes stone-cold stoic, those beautiful honey eyes darting back up towards the sky. Jasper breathes, and breathes again, letting the deafening silence between us grow louder. I watch in what feels like slow motion as the man beside me comes to terms with what I've said. Jasper looks like he's shrinking, if that's physically possible.

I fidget nervously, trying to find a comfortable position for myself. Nothing feels good. My body is tense, my throat is tight, my eyes are stinging with tears. I feel hot. Embarrassed. Self-conscious. "Jasper, I'm sorry," I quietly say. "You have no idea how much I'd like to just play last night over again, for as long as we can. But we can't do that."

"You don't have to explain yourself," Jasper gently says. He turns his head back down and looks at me with eyes full of understanding. "It's not like it's any simpler a situation on my end. We live in totally different worlds. This thing between us just … isn't realistic."

"Yes," I breathe out. I sound relieved. I am relieved.

Am I relieved?

My throat hasn't unclenched. The tears won't ebb. All day, I've been waiting for this moment of release. I kept myself believing that if I was able to acknowledge last night for what it was - a mistake, a lapse in my constitution - that this pitiful feeling in my gut might subside. It hasn't. I don't feel better. I feel -

I feel worse.

Still, for some reason, I say: "thank you for understanding."

"Of course," Jasper instantly replies. "You're the one drivin' this car, darlin'. If you say we stay in the right lane, we stay in the right lane. I'm not gonna argue what you know is best. We can be friends. I'm more than happy with that."

"Friends," I agree. I smile at him, trying hard to make it look natural - genuine. He does the same.

"Well, we uh, we shouldn't spend all night just sittin'," Jasper eventually submits.

I know he's right. It'll all be less painful if I don't have to sit here playing friends with a man I want to be so much more than friends with. Still, I don't want to be anywhere else. Jasper is the best thing I've known for a long time.

"I don't want to go back out there," I groan in contention, using any excuse to spend more time in the shadows beside him.

"You don't have to," he assures me, the slightest of smiles reappearing on his face. "Honestly, I don't want to go back out there, either. You can always go in for the night, if you'd like. Or … I've got some chores to get done. You can come with me while I do all that."

I eye Jasper suspiciously, a single eyebrow quirked in question. "What kind of chores?"

Masochist! I scream at myself. Who voluntarily spends more time with a man they're trying to get over?

"Just lockin' up for the night," Jasper assures me. "Goin' 'round and makin' sure all the paddocks got closed up properly 'n all that. Easy stuff."

Sounds simple enough. I unhook my arms from around my knees and stretch my legs out over the grass. I take a moment to fix my hair back into place, and then I stand. I flatten out the skirt of my sundress, taking careful note of how Jasper's eyes dart down to follow my hands, to eye the hem of my skirt. I clear my throat, and his eyes quickly pull back to my face. This isn't going to be easy for either of us, I think.

"I'm curious to see what your definition of easy looks like. Besides, I could use a walk." Excuses, excuses. I hope he can't see right through me.

Jasper scrambles up onto his feet. "I'd like that, ma'am."

"Hey!" I playfully scold, trying hard to play like I'm anything close to alright.

"Miss," he corrects, finally smiling something like a real smile.

A chunk of my heart breaks right off at the sight of it.

A/N: hello readers! thanks again for reading our update & check back in next week for what should be a uh, real tipping point in the story. for any and all story inspo - especially the music used in each chap - check out my writing tumblr twiwrite ! as always, your comments, thoughts, and criticism are appreciated! As always, thank you LittleDarlingAJ!