Page 64 of Until Daddy

“Friday.”

“Right before you went to get Carissa out of jail? Jamison. You broke up with her because you were pissed at your father?”

The contempt in Garrick’s voice turned Jamison’s stomach.

“No. I broke up with her because I got tired of playing the waiting game. What was the point of taking a step in the right direction when in the end, she was going to walk away? Going to that protest was more important than obeying my decision about it because in a week, she’d still be dealing with the shelter and not be dealing with me.” Jamison dropped the fry he’d been twisting in his fingers and grabbed his napkin, his appetite lost.

“You don’t know that. I don’t think that’s true at all.” Garrick shook his head. “You need to talk to her, sort all of this out.”

“There’s nothing to sort out.” Jamison took a deep breath and stretched his arms out. Sleep had been an elusive bitch the past few days. “I have to head out for a meeting. I’ll be in the office this afternoon, though. I want to move forward with the Dark Lace expansion.”

“You’re being as stubborn as she is,” Garrick chided.

“Yeah, well, I’ve earned it.” Not much of a retort, but his mind wasn’t working on all cylinders just yet. He tossed bills down on the table and left Garrick to finish his lunch.

* * *

Carissa steppedoff the bus onto the pavement outside the shelter still in a haze. She couldn’t shake the lost feeling that had taken over her since that click. That resounding click that had signaled the finality of his goodbye.

She’d fucked it all up so beautifully. Her resistance, her reluctance, had worn off on him. No wonder he didn’t think she’d taken him seriously, she’d put a damn expiration date on their relationship. You can’t be taken seriously if you already plan to end it.

Smart. She’d been so damn smart. She’d thought she was protecting her heart and instead she’d broken it.

Ugh.

The February air whipped around her, crisp and cold, but she didn’t care. She’d left her scarf and her hat in her bag. Stuffing her ungloved hands into her coat she climbed the steps to the shelter.

Having spent the entire day at work watching new parents fawn over their babies, kissing each other and oozing love all over the place left her drained. Love like that didn’t happen for her, wasn’t that what she’d told herself?

But she’d had it, or at least something close to it. So close that she could almost taste it, and now it was gone.

“Carissa?” Margaret walked up to her as she turned down the hall leading to the clinic.

“Yeah.” She pushed her hair away from her face and tried to smile.

“Oh. Honey. You look…” Margaret grasped her by the shoulders and turned her. “You look exhausted.” Although she’d been turned around, Carissa caught his figure walking down the same hall, the opposite direction to the doors.

“Is that, was that Jamison?” she asked, pulling free from Margaret. Had he come looking for her? Was he ready to forgive her?

“Yes.” Margaret’s voice didn’t sound like someone who was about to tell her that her hot hunk of a boyfriend was looking for her. No, that upbeat tone she’d had previously was gone. “He—uh, he mentioned you two weren’t seeing each other any longer.”

And the bricks just kept falling. Her head started to pound. “Oh. Yes, right.”

“He’s, well, he’s buying the building, Carissa.”

Carissa took a step back. “What? Why? For his father?” Had he really gone off to the dark side because she’d convinced him love wasn’t real?

“No! No. He’s buying the building, not the shelter. We’ll be renting the space from him. He’ll be able to better protect the shelter as owner of the building.”

“Because he has friends in high places, too.” Carissa tried to sound sour.

“He’s completely outbid his father, and with the money, we can remodel and add more programs. He even wants to expand the housing area, put a second floor onto the place.”

Carissa tried to look happy for Margaret. It sounded perfect. But Jamison hadn’t stuck around to tell her himself. He’d left, he’d just walked out.

“That’s great, Margaret. Really.”

“Hon, you need to go home. Sink into a hot tub, pour some wine and cry it out. And when you’re done crying, you need to call him. He looked as close to death as you do right now.”

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