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“Did Jasmine know what you did when you first met?”
It’s something I’ve always wondered. She didn’t mention it until after they were married.
He answers, “I didn’t think so at first, but found out later on that she knew.”
“How did you find out?”
“Remember the best friend I shot? He told me when he came to me, asking for permission to see Jasmine. Said she knew how the Mafia world worked and wanted to be with him.”
“Hold up. He came to you, her husband, asking for permission to see her?"
“It’s not that unusual in our world. Divorce is frowned upon. Having a side piece isn’t.”
My throat is tight. “Is that what I would have been? A side piece?”
He’s silent for a moment. Maybe I’ve overstepped.
“You asked me if I love Jasmine. The answer to that is yes.”
“I remember.” The words are sour in my mouth.
“But not in the way you’re thinking. I love her as one would love a pet. Someone who relies on you to take care of them, but you also know that they might bite your hand if given the chance.” He looks me in the eyes. “I love her, but I’m not in love with her. Those are two very different things.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Yes.”
His answer guts me.
“Oh.”
He tips my chin. “It’s something quite new. Something that leaves me feeling out of control. It’s scary and wonderful at the same time. I never thought I could care about someone this way. When she hurts, I hurt. When she bleeds, I want to make others bleed, too.”
My throat is thick with emotion. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
He continues, “She’s a quiet thing. One might say mouselike, even. But that’s what people who don’t know her think. I know better. She’s fiercely loyal, smart, and sexy as hell.” He touches my jaw. “She has a scar right here from when she fell off her bike when she was little.”
A tear trails down my cheek, stinging.
“How long have you been in love with her?”
“From the day I met her at the botanical gardens. She doesn’t know this, but I’ve wished a million times over that I had met her first.”
“She wishes it, too.” I pause. “And she’s in love with him.”
His eyes are bright. “Is she?”
“She knows that they are as different as night and day, but thinks they balance each other out. Their love isn’t something that makes sense, and that’s okay. When she’s with him, she’s happy.”
“He’s happy, too.”
I’m close to crying and have to blink back tears. “Will you hold me?”
The words aren’t even out of my mouth as he pulls me as close as he can to his body, wrapping his arms around me. The tears do fall this time.
“I’m so fucking sorry that I couldn’t protect you,” he whispers against my hair.
Sometimes, there aren’t adequate words to express how you’re feeling, so I say nothing. Instead, I let Jafar hold me, knowing that my life will never be the same. He says he loves me, and I believe him. But he also said that he doesn’t believe in divorce. Closing my eyes, I will myself to be strong. Leaving him is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it's something that I have to do. Kansas is my home and I have a good life there. With luck, I will find happiness one day. And I will never return to New York City again.
