Page 77 of Romeo

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. “You better get used to it, because Jasmine won’t be eight years old forever.”

Georgie groaned as his arms closed around me. “Why would you say something that horrible to me right now?”

I laughed against his chest, and some of the tension that had been sitting between us since dinner finally eased.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too. So damn much.”

When he pulled away, his eyes were wet. He wiped them quickly and cleared his throat as he stood.

“You should get some rest.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He reached the door before stopping. “Fiona?”

“Yeah?”

“If Romeo ever does anything, anything, that makes you uncomfortable, you’ll tell me?”

I smiled. “You’ll be first in line.”

He gave me one last nod before leaving and closing the door softly behind him.

I sank back against my pillows and stared at the ceiling. My chest still hurt, but not in the same way it had when I’d run upstairs. Georgie wasn’t suddenly going to like Jasper, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think one conversation had fixed everything.

But he’d heard me.

For once, that was enough.

Three days later, I sat at the kitchen table doing English homework while Granny sorted through the mail at the counter. I barely paid attention as bills and catalogs landed in separate piles until she stopped moving.

“Fiona,” she said quietly. “There’s something here for you.”

I looked up.

The expression on her face made my stomach drop before I even saw the envelope.

She held out a thin white one, exactly the kind that never seemed to contain good news. I took it from her and turned it over. The return address belonged to the scholarship foundation I’d applied to two months ago.

The one I’d actually thought I had a chance at.

My fingers weren’t quite steady when I tore it open.

We regret to inform you...

I stopped reading.

“Fiona?” Granny asked gently. “What does it say?”

“I didn’t get it.” My own voice sounded strange to me. “They rejected me.”

Granny crossed the kitchen and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s fine.” I carefully folded the letter and put it back on the table. If I could make the edges line up perfectly, maybe I could pretend my chest didn’t feel like someone had scooped out everything inside it. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Granny said firmly. “You worked hard on that application.”