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We’re so close that our arms brush.
He says in a low tone, “In another life, I would have ended things with Jasmine the day you and I ran into each other here. We would have agreed to meet up for coffee later once things had settled. I know how much you love your coffee.”
I smile, even though my heart is breaking. “Oh?”
“I would have dated you properly before proposing, even though I knew you were going to be mine since the day we met.”
“Jafar—”
“It’s okay, Ellie.” He takes a step back. “I should go. I’ll see you at the fundraiser.”
He leaves, and I realize I’m crying. God, why couldn’t things have been different? And why did I have to fall in love with my best friend’s husband?
12
Ellie
I call Gemma when I leave the botanical gardens.
“I don’t think I’m going to stay until the gala. Something has come up.”
It’s the truth. I’ve realized that I love Jafar and staying in New York is only going to cause harm to me and my heart. After I get off the phone with Gemma, I’m going to look at flights. With any luck, I’ll be back home tomorrow. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, but this is something that I have to do before things get worse than they already are.
“Darling, no! Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Unfortunately there isn’t.”
“Does this have anything to do with Jasmine?”
“Jasmine?”
“She came by, looking for you. She seemed very upset and knocked over a vase when she left.”
Unease creeps up my spine. When we were younger, Jasmine used to get angry and break things to show everyone how mad she was. A childish outburst that she never seemed to grow out of. She once even broke a vase that the headmistress loved, saying later that she had done it on purpose to teach her a lesson. Is that what she’s doing now? Teaching me a lesson?
“Gemma, I’m going to let you go so I can call her.”
I end the call and dial Jasmine. She answers on the first ring.
“I wondered when you would call.” Her words are clipped.
Oh yeah, she’s mad about something.
“What’s going on, Jasmine? Gemma said you were looking for me.”
“Yeah. I am. You should come to the house.”
She ends the call, and I hold on to my phone like a lifeline. Did she figure out what Jafar and I have been up to? My gut says yes. I take in a deep breath. I’m not going to be a coward about this. I’m going to take my butt over to her house and take whatever she has to give me. I deserve it.
The cab ride takes ten minutes to deliver me to the building she lives in. The doorman lets me in, as if he’s expecting me, and sends me to the elevator that will take me to the penthouse. When the doors open, I spot her leaning against the kitchen counter, wine in hand. There are bags from Saks on the table, but Dru is thankfully nowhere in sight. I’m not sure I could do this with her around.
“Hey,” I say as I enter the house.
It’s odd. I’ve never been here. I visited the apartment they used to live in before, but I’ve never been invited to this one until now. Why hasn’t she asked me over before? Any time I’m in town, she has me stay at a hotel. Is it because she’s ashamed of me somehow? Does it even matter now?
She turns to me, ice in her glare. “Hey.”
“What’s up?”
