“No. It’s not like that,” she protests. In all the scenarios that ran through her mind last night, Ben growing angry had not featured.
Ben rubs his forehead with his fingers, thumb spread wide, like he’s trying to figure things out. “Yousaidyou two were over.”
“We were,” she says, then corrects herself: “We are.”
“Then why are you running off home to him?”
Jasmine is about to protest she isn’t running off but stops herself. She is, sort of. But not the way Ben is implying. Instead, she says, “He’s still a friend and he needs help. He’s sick.”
“Huh!” Ben scoffs. “But well enough to come and see you. What is that? Eight-, nine-hour round trip?”
“His sister drove him.” If Jasmine thinks this will help, she is sadly mistaken.
“Oh? He’s got a sister?” And Jasmine can hear the implication in the words.If he has a sister, why do you need to go?
“She’s a soldier. She has to go back to her unit. She helped him.”
“Really?” he says with scorn. “Each time Petey has a little sniffle, you’re going to run off to what? Mop his fevered brow? Kiss it better? Whatever you say it is, that’s notover,Jasmine.”
“It’s not a little sniffle, Ben. He’s dying!” When Jasmine visualised this interaction, she’d imagined she would speak those words with a catch in her voice and Ben, understanding her grief, would gather her into his arms and hold her close. She never thought she would be spitting the words in Ben’s face.
“Is that what he said?” Ben’s disbelief is laced through the words. “And you believed him? God, Jasmine! I never thought you’d be so gullible.”
Gullible? Jasmine cannot believe this is what he thinks of her. “Yes, I believe him. I’ve known him for years.” The idea of her open-hearted Petey as some kind of arch-manipulator is almost laughable. “Besides, he didn’t look himself. Not surprising really, with a tumour on his brain.”
“Is that what he told you? I can tell you now, he’s probably faking. Don’t be surprised if there’s a miracle cure in the not-too-distant future!”
“He’s not faking!” Jasmine is really cross. “How did you get to be so cynical?”
“Because I’ve heard all this before. My mum is involved with loads of refuges for women. You should hear some of the tales their partners spin to lure them back. A terminal illness is not the half of it.”
“This isn’t a tale, Ben. This is real.” Jasmine takes a deep breath and says what she meant to say all along: “A friend has asked me for help and I intend to go and help him.”
Ben stands. His fingers tap his chest forcefully. “And what about me, Jasmine? What about us?”
She raises her chin and sits up straighter. She won’t be unnerved by how badly the talk has gone. “You just have to trust me on this.”
“I trust you plenty, Jasmine. I don’t trusthim. He’s just reeling you back in and you’re letting him play you.” He looks her directly in the eyes, and in the coldest, flattest voice she has ever heard him use, he says, “You have to choose, Jasmine. You can’t have two boyfriends. It’s either him or me.”
A Serious Matter
By the time Sean returns from his tutorial, it is dark. He views it as a particular form of cruelty for his tutor to schedule their meetings so late, especially as he has been worried about Jasmine all day. There has been radio-silence since her last message when she was on her way to talk to Ben. He cannot help feeling uneasy. He believed Jasmine was naively confident all would go well, confident Ben would understand. Sean, though, imagines how he would feel if Georg’s ex suddenly showed up and Georg went off to live with him, no matter the circumstances. People are territorial, especially of their treasured possessions.
The kitchen is empty. Sean hesitates a moment before he puts down his laptop bag and switches on the kettle. Only when he has a mug of tea in each hand does he tap on Jasmine’s door.
“Tea?” he calls softly.
When she opens the door, he cannot get rid of the mugs fast enough. In the years he has known her, he has never seen Jasmine cry, not even when he made her watchThe Notebook. But it is obvious she has been crying – her eyes are swollen and her nose is red. Twice in two days now. He shoves the mugs on the closest surface, slopping a bit of tea over the edge in the process. Then he wraps his arms around his friend to give her a hug.
“It didn’t go well, huh?” he murmurs into Jasmine’s hair. He draws back a little to see her face as she answers.
“He made it a choice: him or Petey!”
Sean winces. He is not surprised. He is only a little baffled Jasmine had not anticipated the possibility.
“So what are you going to do?” he asks. When she doesn’t reply immediately, he adds, “You know I’ll support you whatever happens, don’t you?”
She nods and whispers, “Thank you.” She steps back and takes a deep, steadying breath. “What can I do? I could never live with myself if I let him down.”
