“Your mother’s mess. She put you in this position.”
“I know. But I could have told her no.”
“And how would that have gone over?”
Eloise fiddled with her fingers in her lap. “She probably would have been upset.”
“Exactly.” My molars ground together. “Your parents get mad because you’re too close to your employees. Yet your mom pressures you to hire her friend’s kid. How is this different?”
“Well, hopefully this time we won’t get sued.”
I huffed. “Make your mother fire him.”
“She didn’t hire him. I did. Ultimately, it’s my responsibility. So I’ll deal with it.”
“But you shouldn’t have to. She shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place.”
“I know, Jasper.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, her shoulders curling forward.
The seat belt light turned on above us, followed by a chime that filled the plane’s cabin. Then the pilot came on the intercom, announcing we’d be starting our descent.
There was more to say about her parents, about this situation with Blaze, but I bit my tongue, waiting until we were off the plane and leaving the airport to drive home.
The moment we were on the highway, I stretched a hand across the console, covering her knee. “When I said I don’t want you to fire Blaze alone, it’s not because I don’t think you can do it. I don’t trust that kid.”
“It’s not that.” She waved it off. “It’s my parents. You’re so quick to criticize Mom.”
My jaw clenched. “You agreed. Your mother shouldn’t have asked you to hire this kid, especially if she knew he had problems.”
“I don’t think she knew. Trust me, when she finds out about this, she’s going to be ten times more upset than I am. And like I said, I could have—should have—told her no.”
I pulled my hand away, wrapping it around the steering wheel so I had something to squeeze. “But you didn’t. Because you didn’t want to cause trouble, right? Because they hold that hotel over your head like a goddamn string and you’re their puppet.”
Eloise flinched. “Jasper.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
The heavy silence that filled the cab was answer enough.
“Your dream is that hotel,” I said. “You work your ass off. They want you to be this hard-ass person instead of who you really are. You give it everything you have, and it’s still not good enough for your parents.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” I scoffed. “We stayed married because you were terrified they’d take it away from you. That they’d think less of you. Because deep down, they have made you afraid that they’ll give that hotel to someone else.”
Eloise shook her head. “You’re twisting this around. They support me.”
“They have a strange fucking way of showing it,” I muttered. “Have they ever said congratulations after we got married?”
“Is this why you were acting so strange at the ranch? Why you avoid them? Because you think they don’t support me or that they aren’t happy for me?”
“I’m not going to pretend I like your parents.”
“Jasper.” Her mouth parted. “Don’t say that.”
I shot her a flat look. “So you can say you hate my parents but I can’t take issue with yours?”
Eloise winced. Then her eyes flooded with tears.
Fuck. Too far. I’d taken it too far.
She had every right to dislike my parents. Hell, I disliked my parents. But she loved hers. And I’d just put her in the position to choose.
Her family. Or me.
Tension settled thick and sweltering in the cab. The whirl of the tires on pavement was the only sound for miles. Eloise kept her gaze pointed out the passenger window as I focused on the road.
It should have been a relief to see the A-frame. It wasn’t.
“You’re right,” she whispered as I parked. “All of it. But I love my parents anyway.”
That was who she was.
Eloise loved.
Without conditions. Without hesitation. Even when some people might not deserve it. Like me. Did I deserve it?
“Their hearts are in the right place,” she said.
“Are they?” Fuck, I was being a dick. Why couldn’t I just drop this subject?
“You said it was okay if my family hated you.” Her chin quivered. “That it would be easier that way. But what you really meant was it was okay if you hated them. That it would be easier for you.”
The nail drove straight through my chest.
Yes, it would be easier.
To walk away. To cut ties.
Eloise sniffled, wiping under her eyes before a tear could fall. “That, right there, is the reason I hate your parents. Why I hate Samantha, despite how much you claim to love her. You don’t get to tell me I’m scared, Jasper. Not when you’re just as afraid. You’ve built a fortress around yourself because you’re so scared that you’ll love someone and they’ll leave you. You push everyone away before they even have the chance to get close.”
My chest twisted.
“El—”
She shoved out of the car, then hauled out her bags, taking them inside before I could help.
I dragged a hand through my hair, tipping my head to the Yukon’s roof. “Fuck.”
She was right. So damn right. But between the wedding, seeing Sam, the trip to Paris, I was coming apart at the seams. Eloise and I needed to talk, except at the moment, I didn’t trust myself to articulate my feelings. To say it right. So I shut it all down, focusing on a single task.
Getting the mail.
I shoved out of the Yukon and walked down the driveway. The clean, mountain air didn’t do a damn thing to loosen the pressure in my chest. Every step felt heavier and heavier. But I kept on walking. By the time I returned to the cabin, maybe I’d have a clue about what to say.
To fix this.
Yesterday in Paris had been incredible. A day I’d never forget. I didn’t want to ruin this trip with a fight.
Inside the mailbox were two magazines, both for Eloise, and a white envelope so large it had been curled in half to fit. I tucked the magazines under an arm, then inspected the envelope.
It was addressed to Eloise from Misner Family Law. Her attorney.
My stomach dropped.
I slid my finger beneath the envelope’s seal, prying it open. Eloise was already mad. She could add invasion of privacy to her list.
With a careful tug, I eased the documents from the envelope enough to read the top page.
Not that I needed to. I already knew what I’d find inside.
Divorce papers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ELOISE
Jasper stood on the deck, coffee cup in hand. He was in jeans and a T-shirt, his feet bare. He stared at the trees.
I stared at him.
In the past two days, I’d seen more of his back than I had in all of our time together.
Whenever I came into the room, he left. At night, he’d sleep facing one wall while I stared at the other.