Page 61 of Ablaze

The trench between Jessie’s brows deepens before her throat bobs. “Where is this comin’ from? Things were fine. In fact, things have been great the past coupla weeks.”

As much as I want to argue that just because we haven’t had a major disagreement over the past couple of weeks doesn’t mean we were fine, I don’t.

Because the only thing that matters is the fact that for the past almost eight years, I’ve been walking around with my eyes closed. I wasn’t blind–that would imply I couldn’t see–I was just simply too scared to open my eyes.

Jessie puts her glass down on the counter and braces her hands on my forearms. “We can work this out. I can work on whatever you need me to.” Her voice shakes while her eyes fill. “Please. I know I can make you happy, sugar. Gimme another chance.”

My shoulders slump and I clasp her head against my chest. “You don’t need to change in any way, Jess. You deserve someone to love you exactly the way you are. And I know you’ll make him incredibly happy one day. It just . . . it can’t be me.”

“Why?” Jessie blubbers, sobbing outright. “Why can’t it be you?”

Because I’m in love with someone else.

Because I’ve been in love with someone else this entire fucking time . . .

I close my eyes as her arms tighten around me. “I’m sorry, Jessie.”

After a few minutes, her sobs quell and Jessie looks up at me with so much remorse but so much hope. “Please don’t do this. Think about it some more.”

I take a step away from her, letting her arms drop to her sides. “I have thought about it . . . a lot. And I hate that I’m hurting you, Jess, but my decision is final.”

Jessie’s chin wobbles before she wipes a tear off her cheek. “Every time we’ve broken up in the past, it’s been after some big disagreement.” She wipes her other cheek when a tear drops over it. “But this . . . this feels different. You feel different. Why? What changed?”

I swallow, my eyes finding a spot over her shoulder. “Everything’s changed.”

Chapter Nineteen

MALA

Thirteen Months Ago

Colleen’s two small mixed-breed dogs jump from my lap, to the ground, and back again. One of them makes an excited circle around me before getting back on my lap, balancing herself on her hind legs with her front paws against my chest.

I’m crouched down in front of them, giggling. “You guys already got five treats each! That’s the most I’ve given anyone else today.” I laugh when the brindle-colored floppy-eared one licks every tiny morsel of the apple crumble treat I made earlier from my empty hand. “You’re going to make the others jealous!”

Colleen smiles, standing above the three of us on the ground. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and based on the wet spots around the shoulder and neck of her T-shirt, I can tell she’s just finished her daily run. She generally stops by afterward with her two adorable dogs. “You’ve spoiled them rotten. They won’t eat any other treat I give to them at home.”

“Well, I have a fresh batch of the apple treats in the back, if you want me to get them for you.” I wink at her, getting back up on my feet. The dogs raise up on their hind legs, trying to get me back on the ground again.

Colleen laughs. “Oh, why the hell not? I’ll take a few.”

I look over at Betty, who gives me a smile as she places the last of the carrot cakes on the glass shelves. “I’ll run back and get them now!”

I’m humming in the back kitchen a few minutes later, lost in my own world while washing some mixing bowls, when the double doors open.

I turn to look over my shoulder. “Hey, Betty. What’s going on? Has Gus shown up yet?”

I hired Gus after I fired Iris, who was the one I hired after Jessie left. It’s been sort of a revolving door of baristas, and while Gus seems to have been working out well the past few months, I’m not holding my breath, given the number of times he’s been late.

Betty raises a gray brow, giving me a curious once-over. “There’s a gentleman by the name of Jason Bourne waiting for you in the café. He claims he just needs a few minutes of your time.”

I smile at her with my eyes narrowed. “Jason Bourne? Oh no! Do you think he’s figured out my true identity as a powerful drug lord? Is he here to assassinate me on behalf of the CIA?”

Betty blinks at me like there’s a leak in my think-tank, clearly unfamiliar with the Bourne films. “Should I let him know you’ll be right out, then?”

I giggle at my own joke, and the fact that she didn’t find it funny. It’s fine. What matters is that I can make myself laugh.

Betty turns to leave, but halts to look back at me. “He’s quite the handsome young man, and I didn’t see a ring on his left hand.”

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