Page 142 of Romeo

Every version sounded like I was preparing him for something terrible.

Maybe that was because some part of me still believed my past was.

I swallowed and typed the question that had been circling since the party.

Me: Do you believe people can make the right choice and still feel guilty?

His answer came almost immediately.

Jasper: Yes.

I stared at it. No request for an explanation. No joke. Just an answer.

Me: Even years later?

Jasper: Especially years later.

My throat tightened.

I’d spent so much time telling myself that regret would mean I’d made the wrong choice with Charlie. Then I’d spent even more time telling myself I didn’t regret it, because regret sounded too close to wishing things were different.

Maybe guilt lived somewhere between those things.

Maybe it didn’t have to make sense.

Me: What if everyone else thinks it was right?

His answer took longer.

Jasper: That doesn’t always silence the part of you that hurt.

I pressed my lips together. He hadn’t asked what I’d done. Hadn’t told me the guilt was useless or that I needed to let it go. He’d simply made room for it.

Me: You sound like you understand.

Jasper: I understand guilt.

I stared at those words longer than the others.

For the first time, the mystery didn’t belong to me.

There was something in Jasper’s life I couldn’t see. Something behind the easy charm and constant jokes that he carried quietly enough that I’d never thought to look for it.

I could’ve asked. I didn’t because if I asked for his, I’d have to give him mine.

Maybe that was what trust looked like from his side too.

I sat up, drawing my knees beneath the blanket.

Me: I need to tell you something.

Jasper: Tell me.

My fingers hovered over the keypad.

This was the moment I’d been promising myself I was working toward. Charlie’s name could’ve been the next thing I typed. Then the rest: fifteen, pregnant, homeless, adoption.

Instead, fear closed around my throat so tightly I could barely breathe.