Jasper glanced my way. I didn't look up. I peeled down the jeans and flipped the denim off a foot. Gathering up the clothes, I walked them to the hamper, dumped them in, and padded to the dresser to find pajamas.
By the time I looked at the doorway, Jasper was gone.
Moments later, the Camaro sputtered to life. I imagined Jasper spitting curses at the windshield instead of baby-talking the car. The engine rumbled and faded as Jasper drove away.
Throwing myself down on the bed, heedless of the aches and pains from the attacks, I stared at the ceiling. To the darkened room, I said, “Friendship was so much less complicated.”
*
Jasper was in bed the next morning when I woke. Bare chested, hips encased in blue boxers, he had his arms spread out and one leg tangled in the sheets. Because I'd slept hard as a rock once I'd gone under, I had no idea when he'd come home. It could have been three—or six.
A glance at the clock told me it was now pushing seven-thirty. On my feet, leaving Jasper to sleep, I wandered into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. When his cell phone beeped on the counter, I leaned over to look and make sure it wasn't work, telling him he had to come in early.
Had a good time last night. See you after work.
That was not Tyler's number. It was Asia's.
Stiffening in surprise, I clutched the glass of water while fresh tension and unease gripped me. Had he lied on purpose? Was the whole thing about loving me and not Asia a front for his real feelings? Did he plan to see her behind my back while I thought he was out with his friends, so he could make up his mind whether he wanted me, or her?
A hundred possibilities ran through my mind. More distressed by the second, I set the water down and went into the bedroom. Finding jeans, a pull over shirt the color of plums and my favorite boots, I took it all to the living room and changed there. Once done, I snagged my cell phone off the coffee table, my set of keys, a good wad of cash from our stash and left the house.
No note, no explanation. Why should I? There was no way I was going to try and talk to Jasper now, not until I could cool my temper. Why had he bothered to put on the show last night, to defend my honor when he'd planned all long to meet up with Asia? Pacification? To appease me? To throw me off the scent?
I should have known. Stupid. I must be much more naïve than I realized. Here I'd believed his lies, his declarations of love and dedication.
I jogged to the bus stop and boarded the first one that came along. What I should do, I thought as the city rolled by, was to follow Jasper tonight after work and catch him at it. Catch him together with Asia and confront them both. I was just done with trying to be understanding and compassionate and considerate. Jasper hadn't been honest with me twice in the last year, why should I think he was being honest with me about this?
Getting off at the correct stop, I walked the Strip for three blocks, glad to be out amongst the slowly building crowds and the morning sun. I walked with a purpose, with determination, a new goal in mind. Along with seething anger, I had to clamp down on the sting of tears that kept threatening to overwhelm me. I refused to cry, refused to let grief take over.
By nine ten, I was sitting in front of a slot machine in Excalibur, the giant castle with a medieval theme, one boot propped on the rung of my seat. I fed the first twenty dollar bill in and blithely pushed Max Bet, jabbing the button like it might spark a detonation in my bedroom across the city.
Jasper and I had a pact about gambling, too. We weren't supposed to do it. And except for one time, when we'd been desperate beyond reason, we'd stayed away from the machines.
Not today. Today I meant to spend at least half the wad in my pocket. Every spin of the reel gave me a tiny bit of bitter satisfaction. Eight spins later, Double Jackpot came up across the board and I found myself the unlikely winner of twelve-hundred bucks.
Of course. I laughed and laughed at the irony. Better to laugh than cry.
With another wad of cash in my pocket, I hit the poker machines, burning through forty dollars before I hit four of a kind. The small jackpot kept me playing another five hours. Because I wanted to keep a clear head, I refrained from indulging in drinks and had only ice water instead. It was tempting, though. Tempting to douse myself in liquor to obliterate the world around me. If I hadn't hated over-drinking as much as I did, I was sure I would have caved to the desire before now.
After poker, I tried keno, punching in all the numbers in my life that ever meant anything. Most had to do with Jasper. His birthday, the first day we moved in together, our graduation.
I needed new numbers. I needed numbers for me. Recalibrating, I entered new digits and played until it was time for my next project. When all was said and done, I walked out of Excalibur with an extra grand in my possession.
Not bad for Revenge Gambling. I'd thought to lose it all in a snit of fury, and came away a winner.
Fate was weird that way.
I checked my phone, which had dinged at least ten times during the afternoon, and continued to ignore Jasper's messages. I didn't trust myself to say a thing. If he could go off with his 'friends' in the middle of the night, then I could have a day to myself. I'd have to text him at some point; if I didn't, then he'd wait for me after my shift tonight and that would blow my intention of following him to meet Asia.
After another short bus ride and a brief walk, I wound up at a car rental business, where I secured myself a small compact vehicle that wouldn't burn through too much gas. From there I drove through the city, taking the less busy back streets, until I arrived at Olympus. Leaving the car in the lot, I entered through the employee door and dragged out my phone.
Taking a day for myself. See you later. I prided myself that none of it was a lie. A few minutes later, Jasper messaged back.
What's up?
Nothing. Needed some time.
Not like you to leave without goodbye.
I snorted. I wanted to type that it wasn't like him to see women behind my back, but I refrained.
In a hurry. Catch up to you later.
Okay. Later.
For the next five hours, I filed papers in an upper office, well away from the locker room on the main level where I might run into Jasper when he came in for his own shift. I knew he worked one of the shows tonight; relegated to filing and shuffling paper saved me from being exposed to his presence before I was ready. The monotony of the work numbed some of my anger and volatility, though not all. I had moments of sheer fury and other moments when tears once again pricked the back of my eyelids.
I refused to cry over this. Not until later, after the confrontation, when I could prove once and for all that I'd caught them in the act and that Jasper and I were well and truly done.
At ten minutes to twelve, I clocked out and surreptitiously made my way to the lower floor, taking the stairs for the last two levels. I didn't want to accidentally come face to face with Jasper in the elevator. Navigating the long employee hallways was risky, so I used the side rooms as cover whenever I heard voices coming from the other direction.
Tucked into a dark, unused conference room across from the door to the lockers, I waited. Timing was everything. I had to follow Jasper when he left for the night without him seeing me. Without others seeing me, too, who knew we were a couple and might strike up conversation. The last thing I wanted was for someone else to shout my name down the hallway.
At twelve-twenty, I wondered if Jasper had gotten off early and had already left the premises. I'd expected to see him no later than twelve-ten. He wasn't the type to loiter around Olympus after work, preferring to either come home or meet friends somewhere else in the city.
When twelve-thirty rolled around, I cursed under my breath and was just about to break cover when Jasper appeared across the hall. He looked to be in a hurry. Dressed in his black and white suit, hair styled in a neat sweep away from his forehead, Jasper let himself into the locker room to change.
It was one of the harder things I'd ever
done, watching him go about his business while I knew he was about to meet up with his ex-wife. I hated how my body responded to his tall frame, to the handsome angles of his face.
Exactly six minutes later, he emerged in a pair of new jeans and a long sleeved henley in blue. Not exactly the ragged jeans and tee shirts I was used to seeing him in. He'd left his hair combed, too, I noticed, which added another layer of annoyance to everything else.
How nice of him to do himself up for Asia. Then again, she wasn't the type of woman to run around in beater jeans and aged cotton tees. She was the polar opposite of the woman Jasper had sworn he loved.
I delayed my own exit from Olympus, giving Jasper just enough time to cross the parking lot to the Camaro. Slipping out the door, I hurried to the rental car. Like someone in a spy novel, I hunkered between vehicles while I stabbed the key in the lock. Backing out of the space, I shadowed Jasper off the property and onto the streets. He wouldn't be looking for me in a compact, electric blue Chevy, which gave me the confidence to tail him at a relatively close distance.
Not long now.
My palms began to sweat on the steering wheel despite that it was probably no more than fifty degrees outside. When the Camaro suddenly pulled to the curb along a row of small, well lit businesses, I fretted he'd tagged the Chevy and meant to confront the person who'd dared to tail him from work. Pulling in alongside the curb behind the Camaro, I prepared to have it out with him right here, right now.
He got out and circled the back of the Camaro, heading into one of the small stores. Jasper never even glanced at the Chevy.
What was he doing?
Moments later, the glare of flashing lights shining down to highlight the sidewalk, Jasper emerged with three bouquets of roses in his hand.
Three. Not just one, but three. Blood red roses, too, which indicated to me that he meant to make a statement. A person didn't give red roses to 'friends'. I might not be the girliest girl ever, but I did know that much.
Again, I felt tears threaten to overflow. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Schooling myself, getting my emotions under control, I watched Jasper set the roses on the front passenger seat, close the door, and walk around to the driver's side.
From there I followed him through town, sometimes dropping back a few car lengths so I wouldn't be too suspicious. I knew his destination anyway, what did it matter? He was heading straight for Asia's apartment.
A strange panic welled in my chest when I parked in a slot four cars down from Jasper. I didn't get out right away, just cut the lights and sat there. I'd backed into the space, too, giving me a full on view of the sidewalk leading to Asia's apartment. There were plenty of lampposts providing enough light to see by.
Jasper strode across the parking lot and stepped onto the sidewalk. He didn't have the flowers in hand, which was slightly confusing until I realized he probably meant to surprise her with them in the car. One couldn't hide three dozen red roses behind their back, after all.
Asia appeared on the walk, wrapped in a pretty dress of dark turquoise that glittered a little under the lamp light. Nude heels jutted her height up another few inches, making her legs seem that much longer. She greeted Jasper with a small smile, lips painted red, tilting her face up to his.
So this was it. This was where I needed to get out of the car and confront them. Needed to expose the lies for what they were. Yet I couldn't seem to tear my hands off the steering wheel, which I still gripped as if my life depended on it. I couldn't make myself get out of the car. I'd geared myself up for this all day, and now I sat there, frozen in place.
“Get out of the car, Finley, before he takes her away on their secret little date.” My voice sounded odd even to my own ears.
Jasper turned with Asia toward the Camaro, guiding her with one hand hovering low at her back. Just as I'd thought, they were going somewhere else to spend time together. Probably like they'd done last night.
My opportunity was slipping away second by second, with every step they took.
It happened just as several other cars in the row blocked Jasper and Asia from view; the ire and indignation that had been burning so hot all this time suddenly burned all the way out. Just that fast, my desire for confrontation evaporated into thin air.
Slinking down in the seat, I made myself small as the Camaro's engine roared to life. Headlights flashed through the parking lot as Jasper reversed, then pulled forward, passing the row of cars, passing me, on his way elsewhere with Asia.
Going, going, gone.
Chapter Fifteen
In the grand scheme of things, I supposed it didn't matter that I hadn't confronted Jasper and Asia. I knew the truth now, had seen it with my own eyes. A hairy argument would only rip the wounds open wider.
Arriving home, I left the blue car parked prominently in the driveway and entered through the front door. Jasper probably wouldn't be home until some ungodly hour of the morning, leaving me plenty of time to pack.
This wasn't running away from anything, this was getting my life back, I assured myself, as I dragged a duffel bag from the closet. Plopping it on the end of the bed, I made sure the inside was empty (it was) and started gathering folded clothes from the dresser. One stack after another, shoving it all into the corners of the duffel bag to fill it from the ends first. Underwear, tee shirts, jeans. Shorts. Socks. Bras. I snagged more shirts from the closet, tossing the hangers on the bed for Jasper to deal with later.
While I packed, going through the motions like a machine, I thought about where to go. I didn't have 'girlfriends' to crash with, didn't have family here in Nevada. There were any number of skanky motels I could stay in until I got an apartment of my own, or at least until I could scour the classifieds. That cool one grand I'd won by accident today would come in handy.
Thinking of money, I stopped packing and went into the kitchen and straight into the small pantry next to the fridge. From inside an old canister of rolled oats, I fished out our savings for the shop and split the stack neatly in half. I'd earned this money and I wouldn't leave it behind. Putting the canister back, with Jasper's cash still inside, I headed to the bedroom and stuffed the bills into an inner zipper pocket. For now, it would have to do.
Snatching two pairs of shoes from the closet—tennis shoes and another pair of boots—I jammed each into the duffel bag, pushing and maneuvering in the increasingly tight confines.
“What are you doing? And whose car is that in the driveway?” Jasper said from somewhere behind me.
Startled, I flipped around, one hand over my heart. He stood there in his nicer clothes, hair still combed to the side, three dozen red roses in his hand. Frowning.
I had to admit—the flowers threw me. Why wasn't he off with Asia? I'd been so distracted, I hadn't heard the Camaro pull up. Turning around, I pushed at the last boot that didn't want to fit in the duffel bag.
“What does it look like I'm doing?”
“Packing a bag. But why?”
I heard Jasper move deeper into the room. I said, “Don't play coy, Jasper. Just don't. I saw the text message and I saw you with her tonight. I'm tired of the games, tired of the lies. Just leave me alone.”
Silence descended. The only sound was my repeated attempts to yank the zipper past the thick tread of my boot.
“I'm confused. You saw me with Asia?”
Turning around again, I discovered Jasper was now less than three feet from me, the bouquet listing forward in his fist. He looked perplexed. “Yes. I saw you meet up with her at her apartment earlier tonight, and I saw the text she sent you, saying what a good time she had last night, which is funny, because I could have sworn you said you were meeting up with Tyler.”
My words were riddled with accusation and hurt. I couldn't keep the latter emotion out of the conversation.
Jasper held up his empty hand, an all-stop motion. “Wait, wait--”
“No, Jasper. I'm done waiting. I'm done with your lies. You met up with Asia last night and then planned to
meet her again tonight. I don't know when you got home this morning, but it must have been late. Really late. What did you two do all that time, huh? That's what I thought,” I said, answering before he could say anything.
“Now hang on, Finley--”
Picking up the straps to the duffel bag, with part of the sole of a boot sticking out in the middle, I pushed past Jasper into the living room. “I don't want to hear any more excuses, because hello—I'm not going to believe any of them anyway. Not after this.”
Catching me by the shoulder, Jasper halted my progress and turned me to face him. He said, “You're just marching off without even giving me a second to say anything. You don't even know what--”
“I know what I saw, and I know what I read—what more does there need to be?” It was getting harder and harder to bite back the tears. Here I was, staring at the end of my short-lived relationship to my best friend and confidant. The only person who really understood me, who knew everything about me.
At one point in my life, I would have been able to say the same thing about him. Not anymore.
“You know what you think you saw. If you would just let me explain--”
“No. No more.” I slashed my hand through the air in a negating fashion. I knew well what would happen if I let Jasper start to talk. He'd say everything he thought I wanted to hear. And right now, I just didn't trust him enough to believe his excuses.
With a step back, Jasper let go of my shoulder. He tossed the roses onto the couch, wrinkling the petals on several flowers, and retreated to the bedroom where he closed the door with an echoing bang.
Regret blossomed through my chest. Regret at what we'd lost, at what we could never recover. Letting myself out of the house, I returned the favor and shut the front door with enough force to rattle the windows.
At least now he knew I was gone.
Really gone.
*
I didn't break down until I was sitting on the bed of the Triple Sevens motel, a motel as dated on the outside as it was on the inside. Tears slid between my fingers, wetting my knuckles, my hands. I hated to cry. Hated it almost as much as I hated the ugly gold décor in the hotel room and the shadow of a roach skittering under the desk. Through the open blackout curtains, pink and blue neon bathed the room in ethereal light, which just made the out-of-date furnishings look cheaper (as if that were possible). Under my thighs, the mattress felt thin, overused and uncomfortable. A smell straight from the seventies permeated every square inch: the covers, the walls, the pea green carpet.
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