Page 24 of Horn in My Side
“And yet your first thought was that it was somethingIdid?”Those soft brown eyes turned ablaze.“B-because I’ve been messing everything up at this point, right?”
“Jasmine, no—”
Her nostrils flared.“If you’ll excuse me, I need to finish somework upstairs.”She turned on her heel, hands balled into tight fists, then stomped up the stairs.
Something hot stuck in his throat and his belly churned and twisted.Was there anything lower than dirt?Because that’s how Mal felt right now.He scrubbed his palm down his face and groaned aloud.
He’d screwed up, big time.
Chapter Seven
JASMINE
Jasmine took in a deep breath, inhaling the savory and sour sharpness of the soup inside the pot.Okra, sliced radish, shishito peppers, and eggplant floated to the top as her wooden spoon stirred the contents.Sinigang was a favorite comfort food, bringing up memories from her childhood she desperately did not want to lose, of afternoons sitting in the kitchen, watching her grandmother bent over the stove as she dropped the ingredients into the large pot.The compound they lived in was home to multitudes of Gonzalezes—uncles, aunts, cousins, and second cousins and even more distant relatives.Sunday dinners were sacred for the clan and always held at the ancestral house where her grandfather and grandmother lived.While most individual families had their own houses within the compound, Jasmine and her father had moved in with her grandparents after her mother had died giving birth, and so her LolaMarisol had practically raised her.
Jasmine used a fork to poke at an okra floating on the surface.Much too firm, but that was no problem as she had some time before Kap arrived, so she turned the heat down.It was still lightoutside, and he wouldn’t be waking up until the sun began to set.She’d messaged him this afternoon, asking if he wanted to have dinner at her place.Even though he’d been in the middle of his sleep, he’d managed to reply with a thumbs-up.
It would be nice to have him around.They weren’t confidants who shared everything, not that Jasmine ever had that kind of friendship with anyone, but she just didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and the chatty tree giant would ensure she wouldn’t even have time to think about what had happened this afternoon.
Instead of cringing, outrage bubbled up in her chest like the soup on her stove.Sure, she hadn’t exactly made the best decisions in her life and she did screw up every now and then, but to have Mal scold her like a little girl when it had been his fault in the first place?That was completely uncalled for.She could barely hold in her anger, and the only reason she didn’t tear him a new one was she remembered he was still technically the owner of Fantastic Tails and her landlord.
Jasmine considered herself a patient person, but she had her limits.And this was only day one.
Would she even make it to six months?
Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a business owner.
Maybe I should just give up and leave.
A knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts.Looking out the window, the sky was painted in the pinks and purples of dusk, which meant Kap should be rousing from his sleep right about now.Perhaps he woke up early.
Or he was hungry.
Kap survived mostly on takeout and pizza and couldn’t cook to save his life.The prospect of a home-cooked meal would definitely be a good incentive to come over sooner.
“Coming!”she called as a second knock came.She scurried down the stairs and threw the door open.“You must be starving if—Mal?”
For a split second, she thought she was imagining things.No, it was definitely Mal.He stood in front of her door, his humungous body filling up the entire frame.
“Uh, good evening, Jasmine.”
Refusing to look him in the eye, she focused on his chest instead.He was the last person she wanted to see right now.She’d spent the rest of the day upstairs at the shop while he remained on the ground floor, as if they’d drawn a border between the two levels that neither dared to cross.Fortunately, she had some granola bars stashed up there or she would have starved come lunchtime.
“What are you doing here?”Of course, he did own the house and the garage, so he had every right to be outside her door.
“May I speak with you, please?”
Her first instinct was to slam the door in his face.However, the words caught her off-guard, not to mention the tone of his voice—somber, maybe even penitent—and the way his shoulders hunched over made her pause.Glancing up, she met his purple gaze.“Speak about what?”
“I want to apologize for what happened today.”
Nowthatshe didn’t expect.
“I’m sorry,” he continued.“I’m really sorry.I messed up and you’re right.”
Was she hearing him correctly?He was actually apologizing?“Right about what?”
“I jumped to conclusions.That it was your fault.”
