Page 135 of Good For Me

“Sweetheart,” her uncle says, moving to stand, but she holds out a hand.

“I’m tired. I’m going to go upstairs.”

He looks like he wants to argue but she’s already walking to the stairs. “Jas—”

“If you see her again,” she says over her shoulder, voice still cold and flat, “tell her I don’t want to see her. Tell her to go back to wherever she came from and stay there.”

Then she starts up the stairs without another word.

I stare after her, feeling a little stunned. Her uncle must feel the same way, because he merely sits there, looking at the ground. I turn to him. “Is she in any danger?” I ask. “She doesn’t talk about her mom, ever, but I need to know if you think she’s dangerous.”

He shakes his head. “She just wants money. My sister is a master manipulator. She’ll try to find a way to get in on Jasmine’s good side. Or guilt her. But she’s not dangerous, no.” He sighs. “Not physically, at least. Dangerous to Jasmine’s well-being? To her emotional state? Definitely. The last time she came around, before Dad died, she managed to break into his place. Stole some cash and Jasmine’s laptop.” He shakes his head. “It was the most upset I think I’d ever seen my dad. And Jas wasn’t much better.”

Of course she was fucking upset. Her shitty momstolefrom her. After abandoning her. Jesus.

“That’s not good,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “She’s already on edge.”

He grimaces. “I’m afraid that might be my fault. I could tell she took it hard when I told her about the bar.”

“The bar?”

He gives me a surprised look. “She didn’t tell you?”

I’m starting to wonder if there’s a lot she didn’t tell me in the past week. “No.”

“I got all the estimates in. What insurance is going to cover, how much work needs to be done. I think the land itself might be worth more than the building.” He sighs. “I’m thinking of selling.”

“Selling Davie’s?”

He nods. “I’m getting up there in years. The idea of rebuilding so much, of starting over…” he shakes his head. “I just don’t know if I have it in me.”

“And you told Jas this.” Something cold slithers through my belly. “When?”

“Last week.”

So after Thanksgiving. She’d seemed off even before then. But why hadn’t she told me about her uncle? How many times have I asked her to tell me what’s wrong?

I rub my hands over my face, confused and hurting for the woman upstairs. “I should go see how she’s doing.”

He stands and heads to the door and I follow to see him out. He pauses in the entryway and looks back at me. “Don’t be surprised if she shuts down on you a bit,” he says. “She always struggles when it comes to her mom.”

I nod, not wanting to admit that she’s been shutting down on me for a week. “The bar thing doesn’t help,” he goes on. “That apartment has been her safety net since her grandfather died. Losing that is going to be tough.”

She doesn’t need a safety net,I want to argue. She has me. But I just nod, shake his hand, and close the door behind him. Then I go upstairs to find Jas.

She’s lying in the center of the bed, curled into a ball, and my heart throbs with hurt for her. Without saying a word, I lie down behind her, pulling her back to my chest and holding her close.

“Why did this have to happen now?” she whispers. “With everything else going on. The last thing I want to think about isher.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, the words sounding completely insufficient to my own ears. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“I was so happy,” she whispers, and I hold her tighter.

“We can still be happy, Jas. She doesn’t get to ruin anything for us.”

She shakes her head against the pillow. “She always ruins everything.”

I bring my hand down to her belly. “She won’t ruin this. She can’t.”