Page 74 of Romeo

I’d yelled at Georgie.

Really yelled at him.

The person who had been there for me through almost everything.

A sob caught in my throat, and for half a second, guilt tried to convince me to go downstairs and apologize. Then I heard the word again.

Next.

No. I sat on the edge of my bed and pressed my palms against my eyes as the tears finally came.

I loved Georgie. That didn’t mean he got to decide this for me. Nobody did.

And underneath the hurt, underneath the guilt and anger and everything else tangled inside me, something unfamiliar had started to take shape.

For once, I’d made them listen before they decided what was best for me.

It hurt.

But it also felt a hell of a lot like freedom.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Fiona

The house had finally gone quiet. I sat against my headboard with my knees drawn to my chest, listening as the last sounds from downstairs faded. No more raised voices. No dishes clattering as everyone helped Granny clean up. No footsteps crossing the kitchen floor. My cheeks felt tight where the tears had dried, and my throat still burned from everything I’d thrown at Georgie across the dinner table.

I gave birth to a child.

My stomach twisted all over again when I remembered saying it in front of everyone. I’d never talked about Charlie like that before. He wasn’t proof that I was mature or capable of making adult decisions. He was Charlie. The little boy I loved more than anything. I hated that I’d reached for the hardest thing I’d ever done just to make Georgie understand I wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old girl anymore.

But I’d needed him to hear me. I’d survived things he couldn’t imagine, made decisions no kid should’ve had to make, and lived with the consequences of them. I deserved the right to choose my own path now, even if that path led me straight to Jasper.

Just thinking his name tightened something beneath my ribs.

Georgie had called him a player. A man who collected women and walked away when he got bored. He’d made Romeo sound like a warning label I was too stupid to read.

That wasn’t the man I knew.

Jasper sent me flowers because he wanted me to smile. He texted every morning to make sure I was okay and remembered little things I’d forgotten I’d told him. He listened when I complained about school, asked about work, and somehow knew when something was bothering me even when I hadn’t said it.

Was that what Georgie was warning me about? Was Jasper simply that good at making women feel special?

I didn’t know, and that was what bothered me most.

When I talked to Jasper, I didn’t feel like the foster kid or the girl who got pregnant at fifteen. I didn’t feel like someone everyone needed to rescue, protect, or make decisions for. I was just Fiona.

Maybe Georgie was right to worry.

But Jasper was still my choice to make.

A soft knock on my door made me jump.

“Go away.”

“Fiona.” Georgie’s voice came through the door, quieter than I expected. “Can I come in?”

I didn’t answer, but Georgie never waited for answers—he opened the door anyway. He stepped inside and closed it softly behind him. His hands disappeared into his pockets as he stood there looking at me, shoulders slightly hunched as if he expected me to start throwing things.