Page 88 of False Confidence

“Ruff.” Bray tilted his tiny little head like he had no idea what Liam was talking about. In his defense, he probably didn’t, considering he was a puppy and didn’t speak English.

“Good chat, buddy. Our son is a tyrant,” he told Jasmine, who was perched on the edge of the couch, fidgeting with a lavender scrunchie. Bray stood on his back legs and waved until Liam picked him up. “You’re cute, though,” he muttered to the dog, who just wagged his tail, happy to be there.

Jasmine said nothing, and Liam wasn’t sure if she’d even heard him. She just stared at the scrunchie, passing it between her hands, purple smudges below her hazel eyes.

She hadn’t spoken about the night before since they’d left his dad and Maggie’s house. Jasmine had been ready to run out of there the second he’d come downstairs, even though he was hoping Maggie would come down and the two of them would talk.

When ten a.m. passed, it had become abundantly clear that Maggie wasn’t coming down. She rarely stayed in bed past eight, and her missing presence had been deafening. He and his dad did their best to act like everything was normal, but Jasmine had sat in an armchair, staring into space until he’d given up on any kind of conversation between her and Maggie and driven home. To his place, because, although he was giving her the space to process as she needed, he wasn’t willing to let her out of his sight.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked, and she looked up, blinking, as if she’d forgotten he was there. She offered a jerky and unnatural nod. “You sure?”

Jasmine drew her lip between her teeth. “We need to talk, Liam.”

Liam’s stomach dropped. He could see it in the resignation in her eyes, in her lips, bitten raw. In the way her body kept slipping forward until she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself up. Even in the spot she’d chosen on the couch, as far away from him as she possibly could. She didn’t have to say anymore for him to know where she was going with this.

“No,” he said, simply, firmly, not letting his panic show on his face.

Confusion contorted Jasmine’s features. “No we can’t talk?”

“No we’re not breaking up.”

It was a risk. He couldn’t actually do anything if she really wanted to end things between them, but he was confident that she didn’t. He hoped, anyway.

Jasmine’s nostrils flared, her eyes blazing, and Liam could have cried with relief. It was a sign of life. It was something.

“What are you talking about? We’re not actually in a relationship—how could we break up?” Jasmine asked, her voice stronger, steadier.

And just like that, the time for taking it slow was over. “Of course we’re in a relationship. What else would you call this?”

“We’re casually seeing each other!” Jasmine spluttered.

Liam exchanged a weighted look with Bray before looking back at her. “And what’s the casual part, exactly? The way we spend all our free time together? The dates we’ve been going on every few days? Or maybe the way we’re co-parenting a dog together?” Bray barked. “That’s a great point, buddy. Maybe it is the way you’re literally all I think about—and have been for months, years even. Or the way you told me you loved me that one time?—”

“I was sick and it was an accident!” Jasmine stood up, her brows drawn together. He knew her well enough by now to know that she was pissed; he just had to hope it was because he’d derailed her, and not how he’d derailed her. And pissed was better than broken; flames had replaced the emptiness in her hazel eyes.

“No take backs, I’m afraid.”

“Liam.” Jasmine raked a hand through her hair, gaping at him. “You can’t just decide we’re in a relationship. You’re supposed to ask me if I want to be in a relationship.”

“Okay.” He set Bray down on the couch and stood so he was facing her. “Do you want to be in a relationship?”

“Oh my God. I’m trying to end things here.”

“Right, and like I said: no. That doesn’t work for me.”

“Jesus Christ, I’ve stepped into a parallel universe.” She spun around and stomped all the way to the bedroom.

Liam winced and looked at Bray. “Too much? Never mind, you’re a dog. Fuck. What am I doing?”

He trailed after Jasmine and paused in the doorway. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, but she looked up as he shuffled closer and her eyes were blurry with tears.

“Darling…”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to just let me walk away. It was supposed to be easier this way.”

He sat down beside her, and though his fingers itched to reach for her, he resisted. “Easier for who?”

“For you. Because you’re too nice to actually end things with me when you realize what a fucking mess I am, and I’d rather break my own heart than ask you to do it when I know what that would do to you.”

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