Page 72 of A Secret In The Garden

His body seemed to tense with my words. “Eliza, what’s going⁠—”

I threw my cultivator down and stood up, turning to face him. “Nothing’s going on; we got carried away last night, and things got out of hand. That’s all that it was.” I returned to digging.

He stepped over the stone border and into the dirt.

I wanted to cry. He was going to make this impossible. I wasn’t cut out to be mean or to lie, especially not to him. I simply wasn’t, no matter how much my self-preservation required it. I could hide, but being so visible was torture.

He grabbed the sides of my arms, forcing me to stop and look up at him.

“That’s not all it was,” he said softly. “Not to me.”

Shit.

His eyes probed me, and I knew I didn’t have a chance of being dishonest with him; it was impossible. Whether it was a good thing or not, we still had a connection that should have baffled science.

I pushed his arms off me. If I felt him touch me for one more second, I would lose all of my resolve and turn into a crying heap in his arms. I had already embarrassed myself enough.

My voice was weaker now. “We shouldn’t have done that. I’m leaving in a few weeks. I—I—” I turned to face him, unable to stop myself. “Last night was amazing for so many reasons. You really did help me face my fears, and that showed me that I can do things that scare me, like setting boundaries for myself, not letting people walk all over me.”

He grabbed my hand firmly before I tried to turn away from him again. “Those all sound like good things, but what else is going on? Why are you so upset?”

“We—I shouldn’t have been so careless. You’re technically my employer; what if this gets around? My reputation will be ruined,” I grumbled.

His hand dropped, and a coldness took over the brown that had temporarily warmed in his eyes. “Because you are in a relationship with me?” His jaw flexed. “Wouldn’t want an association with me to ruin your sweet reputation,” he said in a low voice before calmly turning to leave.

“We aren’t in a relationship. It was a one-time thing,” I snapped.

“It’s not a one-time thing if I say it’s not, Eliza. I don’t know what’s happening with you right now. Things were good between us last night—very good. Why are you doing this?” I could feel the vulnerability in his voice turning to venom, and it killed me.

He had finally let me in, and now I was the one who couldn’t do it. He had warned me. All this time, he had talked about not wanting to hurt me, and only just now, when I realized how strong I felt, did it truly sink in.

He could hurt me, but worse, I would hurt him. I couldn’t be in a relationship. I just couldn’t do it, not with him or anyone. This was exactly why I didn’t have real friends.

I was a mess. My head was everywhere, with little to none of it making sense. The only thing I knew was that I didn’t want to get hurt, and I really, really didn’t want to hurt Jasper.

That’s the thing about having emotional trauma: It doesn’t give you a warning or a signal that it’s going to affect you in a way that will spin your world upside down; it just hits you when you want it to the least.

I turned my back to him and faced the flower bed, closing my eyes as I struggled to lie.

“I’m only here for a few more weeks, and we are just friends. It was a friends-with-benefits, fuck-buddies situation. That’s all that happened…” I was desperately trying to convince him that I felt nothing and that everything that had happened was nonsense, but I was failing miserably. When I was met with silence, I couldn’t help it: I turned to look at his face, needing to see the expression on it, to see if he was buying it. “You were right to have gone to New York.” I huffed out an exasperated laugh. “It’s just not a good idea. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt.”

He took a few steps toward me, barely veiled concern pulling his dark brows together. “I’ll only hurt you in ways that bring you pleasure, Eliza. You’re safe with me. I wouldn’t have let anything happen between us if I felt otherwise.”

Unable to stop, I began to pace around the conservatory. Another cynical laugh rose up out of me, no doubt making me look like some sort of a cartoon villain. “You don’t know that! You can’t possibly guarantee that you won’t hurt me; I’m easy to hurt. No matter how much I like you, I can’t let myself do this. Jasper, for Christ’s sake, I was locked in a room for six days once because I refused to eat cauliflower. That’s coming from the woman who birthed me—who is supposed to be the one person in the entire world who would keep me safe. You and I can’t be anything more than friends.” I had to stop, feeling my lip tremble. “If my own mother could hurt me so easily, why wouldn’t you? I’m sorry; I know I’m being a little chaotic, but I’m freaking out. I don’t think I’m capable of anything more than what we are right now.” I stopped back in front of him and tried to catch my breath.

Jasper made a move to grab me, and for one quick second, my arms wrapped around him before pulling back. I craved his closeness—it brought me comfort, even if it wasn’t smart. My stupid brain deceived me, told me he was big and strong and powerful and could protect me, but he couldn’t if he was who I needed protection from.

“Stop, we can’t do this.”

“Your mother deserves to have a rope wrapped around her throat, Eliza,” he growled out.

My body stilled in horror.

Hester always grabbed her throat. Always. Was that what he had done to his mother?

No. There was no way.

Sensing my sudden tension, he let me go. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I care about you.”