I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
“I’ll bring in the Christmas stuff so we can pack it.”
I start to object, but he’s already out the door.
It’s not that I don’t want the Christmas gifts. I do, especially that warm blanket his mom bought me, but every moment I spend here is only going to make it harder to leave. My fantasies about the life we could have led are plentiful as it is; I don’t need to know what it’s actually like to spend a night with him in his home.
I want to, and that’s why I can’t.
Jasper comes back with his arms full of Christmas gifts. I take a step back and he unloads everything on the couch.
I want to get this over with, so I make quick work of grabbing and packing everything I’m supposed to take home.
Since we left Stillwater late, it’s already past eight o’clock. Seeming to realize that, Jasper asks me, “Do you want to grab something to eat? We can go out or order a pizza, whatever you want to do.”
I shake my head, not looking at him. “No, I’m actually—I have to go.”
Just hearing the tone of his voice, I can picture the frown on his heartbreakingly handsome face. “Go where?”
“I’m gonna get a hotel for the night. Someplace close to the airport.”
His displeasure heightens. “Why?”
I unzip my purse and draw out my cell phone. “I just think that would be better.”
“There’s no reason to get a hotel, Autumn. You can sleep here and I’ll give you a ride to the airport tomorrow.”
I shake my head, flashing him a polite smile over my shoulder as I pull up the app to call for a ride. “I can take care of it myself, but thank you.”
My gaze is trained back on my screen so I can pay attention to what I’m doing, but before I’m even close to securing a ride, Jasper storms over and rips the phone right out of my hand.
“Hey!” I object, glaring at him and reaching for my phone. “What are you doing?”
“You’re not calling a fucking car. You’re not staying at a hotel by the airport.”
My eyes widen, fury spiking inside me. “You’re not my boss! You don’t get to tell me what to do. You don’t get to decide that.” I make another grab at the phone, but he’s taller than I am, so he easily holds it out of reach. “Jasper, give me the goddamn phone.”
“Why do you want to get a hotel room?” he asks, staring straight at me.
“I just told you—”
He cuts me off. “No, not the bullshit excuse about wanting to be close to the airport. Why do you really want to go to a hotel? Why don’t you want to stay here tonight?”
I sigh heavily, shooting him a look chock-full of annoyance. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you. I don’t have to explain myself to you. You and I?” I say gesturing between us. “We’re strangers. We’re nothing to one another. I owe you no explanations, you owe me none. We’ll never see each other again, and I would rather that start tonight than tomorrow.”
Seeing through every bit of my bluster, he asks calmly, “Is it because of last night? I’m sorry for that. I was drunk. It’s not an excuse, but I… let my emotions get the better of me. That won’t happen again.”
His words knock some of the wind from my sails.
It’s easier to be angry than hurt.
I want the shield of anger. I need it. But it’s much easier to be angry when I can tell myself he deceived me on purpose, that he only really wanted a fun week with me, that he never felt for me what I felt for him.
It’s harder when I think that he wanted all of that too, that he really does feel trapped by the life choices he’s made, that he truly wishes things were different so he could keep me.
It’s harder when he tells me he let his emotions get the best of him. That implies I am someone he is emotionally invested in, that he has invested enough in me that when he was drunk and his inhibitions were low, what he wanted the most, what he took even though I fought to stop him… I was what he wanted.
Without the cool barrier of my anger, sadness creeps up on me again. My heart is suddenly heavier, the tear ducts behind my eyes stinging.
I blink, not letting it get any further than that, but my heavy heart still aches.
Since I haven’t said anything, he goes on. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight if you’re more comfortable that way.”
Since I’ve stopped fighting and reaching for it, Jasper hands back my phone.
I take it, but I don’t resume what I was doing before he snatched it. I look down at it and swallow, then I slide the phone back into my purse.