Isabella smiled knowingly. ‘Come.’
She led Jasmine outside to a place near the gardens Jasmine hadn’t spotted from their window. And standing out there, like a lonely beacon, was her husband.
‘They will never admit it, but these two brothers are more alike than they realise,’ Isabella said. She squeezed Jasmine’s hands gently and left.
Jasmine slowly approached Emilio, eyes on his still form. The white shirt-sleeves were pushed back, exposing his forearms. One hand was in his trouser pocket, and the other hanging by his side, the thumb rubbing his wedding band.
This man, so focussed on doing the right thing that he had married a near stranger for it. He had the world at his feet. He had money, power, good looks, all of which allowed him to have his way. Yet he hadn’t used that to make his problem—Jasmine and their child—disappear as she would have expected of someone in his place. Instead, he’d chosen to bring them into his life.
What could a man like that have done to make him hate himself? And why did he think it would make her do the same? How bad could it be?
‘You don’t have to bear it alone…whatever it is that’s made you hurt so much,’ she said, coming to stand next to him. ‘You can talk to me.’
But he remained stoic.
So Jasmine spoke instead. ‘When we hooked up that day, I was left at the altar.’ She chanced a look at him. While he still gazed out at the horizon, she could tell he was listening. ‘Before that, I hadn’t been intimate with my fiancé in three months.’
He looked at her then, a frown dawning on his face.
‘Just as I was meant to walk down the aisle, the wedding co-ordinator gave me a letter from Richard. He said he couldn’t marry me. Apparently, I’m controlling…tightly-wound. He said that he loved Zara, and had already been with her for five months—my maid of honour.Shewasn’t stifling to be around.Shedidn’t suck the joy out of life.’
Jasmine huffed a chuckle. She had become the cliché. Had been humiliated for months. ‘All that time I thought he was just too busy to make time for us to be together. His work was stressful, so I understood. I poured all that extra time into SOP. Meanwhile, he was spending it with my best friend, who was helping me plan my wedding.’
Jasmine remembered the pain, the anger. It didn’t burn as brightly any more but it hadn’t faded completely. ‘So I left my wedding dress there, went home and changed into the most scandalous dress SOP stocked and ran off to Boulevard, determined to have a good time and ignore the world…and then I ran into you.’
Emilio was watching her closely. Now that Jasmine had started talking, she didn’t want to stop, so even though she kept her gaze straight ahead she moved closer to Emilio, just as her body always wanted to do. Had done, from the first moment they’d met.
‘I should have seen it coming, seen the signs. After all, my father had given me a great lesson in that. I was five and I still remember him walking out the door, remember asking him where he was going. If I could go with him. He just walked out and closed the door, ignoring me. My mother ran out after him in tears. When she came back in, she was broken, sobbing on the floor. I curled around her, holding her until she could stop.’
Jasmine turned to face Emilio then. She needed him to understand. ‘So, you see, I have little incentive to trust—especially to trust a man.’
‘Do you still love Richard?’ Emilio asked, his voice low, even.
‘No. I was angry. I guess I still am a little. I was hurt. But I wasn’t sad. Not about him anyway. I didn’t even miss him afterwards. Maybe I never loved him. Maybe it’s complicated. Maybe I don’t believe in love at all at this point. All I’ve seen it do is hurt and destroy and disappoint.’
They fell into silence. Jasmine’s mind was a flurry of memories, hopes, fears—everything that pushed her to be independent at all costs. To be successful. To meet and exceed every goal.
‘Have you ever heard from your father?’ There was a note of caution in Emilio’s question.
‘No.’
‘Do you want to?’
‘You know where he is.’
Emilio nodded.
A small spark of surprise flared and died. Emilio’s file on her probably detailed her entire ancestry, but she didn’t care. She had the chance to get answers, but those answers would come from a man who had looked at her without a smile and left without a goodbye. Had left her mother devastated. Shattered. She didn’t want anything from a person capable of such immense cruelty. ‘No, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left in the past.’
‘That’s true,’ Emilio agreed.
‘Whatever you’re shouldering, Emilio, it’s not just in your past. It’s affecting your present. How much power are you going to give it?’
‘Belleza.’He swallowed hard. His dark eyes reflected so much hurt and remorse that Jasmine wanted to take him into her arms, but she didn’t. ‘I can’t tell you.’
And there it was. That was why, no matter how good a man he was, no matter how much she wanted to help him, she still couldn’t trust him.
CHAPTER TWELVE