Page 2 of The Friend Zone Experiment

This wasn’t surprising; Jason spoke to his mother daily. It was one of the things Renee liked most about him. And it meant the call was probably nothing to do with work.

Warm with relief, she said, “You guys are so cute. How is your mom? Are her feet better?”

Jason blinked. “Her feet?”

“You know, the warts on her feet,” said Renee. “We’ve been texting, she told me about them. She said they were caused by the wind entering her liver or something. She was using these weird herbal plasters to get rid of them, but she was running low, so I got some shipped from Singapore. They were a different brand, though. Did the plasters work?”

There was an ominous wrinkle between Jason’s eyebrows. “Why are you texting my mom?”

Renee felt cold suddenly, insufficiently protected. She wished she’d got dressed before coming out into the sitting room. She pulled her bathrobe closer around her, folding her arms. “Her friends at church have a son who’s coming over to do his Ph.D. inLondon. She wanted advice on where he should stay. Should I not text your mom?”

Jason’s forehead smoothed out. “No, it’s—I didn’t realise you guys were so close, that’s all.” He attempted a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He was picking at a stray thread protruding from an artistic rip in his jeans. Renee’s hands itched to stop him. She would have done it any other time, but somehow she was reluctant to touch him just then.

“I didn’t mean to overstep,” she said. “Your mom texted me first, so I thought…”

“I said it was fine,” said Jason, with a trace of impatience. “Mom will talk to anyone. She’s still in touch with my high school janitor. They trade gardening tips.” He rolled his eyes.

Renee laughed, though she could hear the ring of nervousness in it. She couldn’t tell what, or who, had made Jason impatient. His mom, because she was too gregarious? Or Renee, because of whatever it was she’d done to send this bright morning off course?

It must be the tiredness making him cranky. They’d gone to bed upon arriving at the hotel, but sleep hadn’t been Jason’s top priority last night.

He was coming straight off an intense few months of touring and publicity. Renee needed to be supportive.

“Mr. Vazquez?” she said lightly. “The one who sells Jason Tsai memorabilia on eBay?”

“He rescued her dying bonsai once, so now it’s like she owes him her life,” grumbled Jason. “He’s probably got dibs on my firstborn.”

His mood seemed to be passing. The tightness in Renee’s chest eased.

“That might not be so bad,” she said. “Our kid will be a bonsai master.”

She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Jason’s face twitched.

She could change the subject, try to smooth things over. Instead, Renee said, a hollowness opening in her chest:

“Jason, what’s wrong?”

A muscle spasmed in Jason’s jaw as he came to a decision. He squared his shoulders, letting out a breath.

“Mom was hassling me about this house she wants me to buy back home,” he said, gesturing at his phone. “She’s been nagging me a lot lately about settling down. It’s made me think about the future, and what I really want.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and looked her in the eye.

“I want you to know, you mean a lot to me,” said Jason. “Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

“What do you mean?” said Renee, but she already knew.

There would be no lingering over lavish hotel breakfasts, feeding each other cute little waffles; no ambling around her city with their hands in each other’s pockets; no champagne flights on the London Eye or anywhere else. Jason having to cut their holiday short for work would have been thegoodoutcome.

“Look, Renee,” said Jason. “I love spending time with you. You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re funny. But what you and I want out of life, it’s too different. I don’t see us working out long-term.”

He sighed, glancing away, before looking back at her. “I’ve known this for a while, but I wanted to wait till we could talk in person. I felt you deserved that much from me.”

Renee still had her arms wrapped around herself. Her fingers dug into the flesh of her arms.

“Why did we have sex if you were only planning on dumping me?” she blurted, and then was furious at herself for betraying so much. It was a pathetic thing to say to someone who had made it abundantly clear he didn’t give a shit about her feelings. She wouldn’t have said it if she wasn’t so off-balance.

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