Page 66 of The Love Audit
I looked over at Tora, who was now staring at me with big, questioning eyes, as if he was waiting for me to fix this. I let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it.
“I don’t know what to do, buddy,” I muttered, my voice hoarse.
He let out another soft whine and stretched his paws out before closing his eyes, clearly deciding that whatever was wrong, it wasn’t his problem to solve.
I leaned back into the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling, hoping that maybe the answers I needed would be written up there. They weren’t. Just the same cracked paint I’d stared at countless times before.
The truth was, I wanted to hate Jasmine. I wanted to feel nothing but anger and betrayal when I thought about her, but that wasn’t what was happening. My chest ached in a way that felt foreign and all too familiar at the same time. I wanted to stop loving her, to sever the connection entirely, but my heart refused to cooperate.
I closed my eyes, her image burning behind my lids—her smile, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, the way she always managed to throw my life into chaos and somehow make it feel like home. Damn it.
The tears came then, hot and unwelcome, and I scrubbed at my face with the heels of my palms as if that might stop them. But they kept coming, spilling over in a way that felt equal parts humiliating and cathartic.
Because the truth was, no matter how angry I was, no matter how deeply I felt betrayed, a part of me still hoped—against all logic, against all reason—that there was an explanation. Something, anything, that would make this all make sense. Something that would give me a reason to believe in her again.
But right now, all I had was silence, anger, and the suffocating realization that the person I’d thought I could finally trust had let me down in the worst possible way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jasmine
After kissing Derek goodbye as he left to walk Tora, I made myself a cup of tea, hoping the warm, soothing liquid would prepare me for what could potentially be the hardest day of my life. My hands trembled slightly as I sipped, my mind racing with everything that needed to be done.
The first step was telling Cassie the project was dead. The thought alone filled me with dread. Cassie had poured just as much of herself into this project as I had. She didn’t answer when I called, so I left a message that I knew sounded more desperate than professional, followed by an urgent email. I hated dumping this on her without a real plan, but I needed time to figure out what to do next.
My next move was a long shot. I needed to scour every corner of the internet to find a way—any way—to keep Miller’s Cove intact and out of the hands of Edward Mason. The obvious choice was the town library. It wasn’t the most modern resource, but I figuredit was my best shot at digging up something useful. So, after a quick shower and packing up my laptop, I headed out the door.
Four hours later, the library proved to be as much a hindrance as a help. The cell service was nonexistent, the internet only worked in one precarious corner of the room, and while I did manage to find some early legal documents signed by the town’s original founders, the legal jargon was far too complicated for me to decipher. My optimism waned with each passing minute, but I soldiered on, making copies of everything I could, even though using the ancient copy machine ate up more time than I’d planned. By the time I left, my brain was fried, my nerves were shot, and I hadn’t come any closer to a solution.
The weight of the evening ahead loomed over me as I returned to the apartment. Dinner with Eleanor and David was inevitable, and I dreaded it more than anything. Those two incredible people, who had become more than just residents of a town that was the subject of a work assignment—they were friends—and they deserved the truth. I had to tell them I’d been deceiving them, but I hoped that showing them I was actively working on a solution would soften the blow.
As terrified as I was, I found solace in knowing Derek would be by my side. We were building something real—on a foundation of love and, most importantly, trust. We’d shed the baggage of our parents’ mistakes, made promises to one another, and finally found a way to move forward. No matter what tonight held, I knew I could face it with Derek.
“Honey,” I called as I stepped into the apartment, the daylight filtering softly through the curtains. Tora rushed to greet me,his tail wagging furiously as he licked my hands. I leaned down to scratch behind his ears. “Well, hello to you, too, handsome. Where’s Daddy?”
The apartment was eerily quiet. I flipped on the light switch in the living room and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Derek sitting on the couch, shrouded in shadows.
“Derek!” I clutched my chest, feeling my heart race. “What were you doing sitting here in the dark?”
I took a cautious step toward him, but the look on his face stopped me cold. His expression was a storm of emotions—sadness, confusion, and anger. But it was the anger, raw and biting, directed squarely at me, that made me recoil.
“Derek?” I asked tentatively, my voice trembling. “What’s wrong?”
“You really had me fooled.” His words were low and venomous.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t,” he spat, his voice rising. “Don’t stand there and deny it. You’re not just shady, Jasmine—you’re sadistic.”
“Sadistic?” My confusion was quickly morphing into defensiveness. “You need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”
“Oh, you want me to spell it out for you? Fine.” He stood abruptly, his movements sharp and agitated. “Your project got approved last week, Jasmine.Last week.Right after we promised to always be honest with each other. Right before you agreed to marry me.”
“What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. None of this made any sense.
“Just stop it!” He cut me off, pacing now. “I’ve seen the reports,the emails. MasonCorp is moving forward withyourproject. You didn’t just lie to me—you sold out this town, Eleanor, David… all of it. And you did it behind my back.”
My legs gave out, and I sank onto the couch as tears spilled down my cheeks. “I didn’t do this, Derek,” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “I swear to you, I didn’t.”
