Jasper Vale (The Edens)
Jasper Vale: Chapter 17

“You’re kidding.”

Jasper shook his head. “Nope.”

“You have to be kidding.”

He shook his head again.

My jaw hit the sheets.

Oh, how I hated his ex-wife. I hated her for the tension that crept into Jasper’s body when he mentioned her name. For the way his voice changed when he spoke about her. It was rougher, harder, like she was this infected wound oozing puss, and just the thought of her caused him pain. But mostly, my hate was driven from envy.

I hated that he’d loved her for so long. I hated that she’d gotten his firsts, marriage included. I hated that she’d been with him at the Clover Chapel.

The night we’d gotten married wasn’t exactly special. I couldn’t remember the words the officiant had spoken. I hadn’t worn a stunning gown. We hadn’t exchanged vows surrounded by friends and family.

Still, since Vegas, I’d considered that mine. Ours. Even though this marriage was fake, I’d never forget that beautiful chapel.

Now there was a nasty stain splashed across the doors. The stain’s name was Samantha.

She was an ugly horse.

Maybe I should have been more offended that he’d taken me there. But the moment he’d explained why, that he needed a good memory to outshine the bad, well . . . I was honored that Jasper considered me that good. That I was the beauty he’d needed.

But I still hated his ex.

I’d heard of open marriages through celebrity gossip rags and random social media videos. But the concept wasn’t for me. The idea of my husband fucking another woman? No. Hard no. I was too selfish and too territorial to share.

“So was Sam cheating?” I asked.

“She didn’t consider it cheating because it was simply physical. She loved me. She was committed to me.”

I scoffed. “Then her definition of commitment is different than mine.”

Jasper dropped his gaze to the sheet between us and something about the stiffness in his frame made my pulse rocket. Like he was dreading what he was about to tell me.

Oh, hell. Had he gone along with it? Was he okay with an open marriage?

“What did you do?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

Jasper looked up and the agony in his gaze cracked my heart. “I took the woman to the guest bedroom. I don’t know why. Shock, maybe. Revenge. I was furious and thought maybe if I fucked another woman, Sam would get jealous.”

No. My stomach dropped.

“The woman started touching me,” he said. “She took off her clothes. Climbed on the bed. And I just stood by the door, staring at her, wondering when the hell my life had turned to such shit. So I left her naked in the guest bedroom and went to mine. Found Sam and that guy in the throes. Sam was on top, riding him like it was her job.”

I cringed, a fresh wave of loathing for his ex-wife coursing through my veins.

“She didn’t even stop when I walked into the room.” He huffed, shaking his head. I wasn’t the only one disgusted. “She just watched me, like it was a turn-on to have her husband see her fuck another man on our bed. So I walked to the closet, packed a bag.”

“You left?”

“Yeah. I drove to a bar. Got sloppy drunk. Slept it off in my car.”

Oh, Jasper. I wasn’t even sure what to say.

“I won’t share, Eloise.” Jasper locked his eyes with mine. “I won’t.”

I lifted my hand to cup his stubbled cheek. “I don’t share either. If another woman touches you, I’ll cut off her fingers and feed them to my dad’s dogs.”

That declaration came out so suddenly, I froze. There was no way he’d miss how much that had sounded like a claim. A commitment longer than two to three more weeks.

But Jasper only chuckled, that low, gravelly rumble. It was second place to that free, boisterous laugh I’d coaxed out of him earlier. Maybe if I was lucky, I’d hear that laugh again before he walked out of my life.

“What happened after the bar?” I asked.

“Went home the next morning. Found the house was clean. Smelled like laundry soap. Sam had washed the bedding. And she just pretended like nothing had happened.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

Jasper nodded.

“What did you do?”

“Told her to get the fuck out of my house. And that she’d be hearing from my attorney.”

Pride swelled in my chest. Good riddance.

“It got messy after that,” he said. “Sam didn’t want a divorce. She kept trying to convince me this open marriage would be good for us. A chance to explore our base desires but stay together.”

“Of course she did.” I rolled my eyes. Bitch.

“That other woman? She lied. She told Sam and her husband that I fucked her.”

“No,” I gasped.

“Sam believed her. Still thinks it happened. She likes to hold that over my head.”

Because Sam was a spoiled, manipulative twat. No wonder Jasper rarely spoke about his past. Between his parents and his ex, I wouldn’t talk about them either. Assholes.

“Sam wouldn’t actually leave the house,” he said. “Even though it was mine. So I ended up being the one to move. I packed up what was important, it was less than I’d expected it to be, and left the rest behind. I put the house on the market without telling her. She came home from work one day to find a For Sale sign in front.”

“You have a vindictive side.” I giggled. “I like it.”

“So do I.” His eyes crinkled, that ghost of a smile. It dimmed too soon. “Sam is rather spiteful herself.”

“Uh-oh. What did she do?”

“Threw a tantrum. Told her parents and my parents that we were going through a rough patch, and that I refused to work on our marriage.”

“Did they know she was cheating?” It was cheating. If Jasper hadn’t wanted an open marriage, then everything she’d done was cheating.

He blew out a long breath. “I could have told them, I just . . . didn’t.”

“Why?” This woman had used him, betrayed him, but he hadn’t put the blame on her. Why? The answer came to me before he could say it. “Because you loved her.”

“Something like that.”

Goddamn that stung, knowing a woman who hadn’t deserved him was the one who’d earned his love.

Did he still love her? My heart couldn’t take that answer, so I didn’t ask the question. “Obviously, you got the divorce.”

“It took six months,” he said. “I didn’t want to be anywhere near her, and with Dan gone, it was easier to walk away. A friend of a friend had just moved to Vegas. Had met some UFC fighters. He knew of some gyms looking for trainers and instructors. It seemed like a hell of a good idea to move across the country. So I did and let my lawyer deal with Sam.”

“What about your parents?” I asked.

He shrugged. “They reacted as expected. Meaning they didn’t really give a flying fuck that their son was going through hell.”

My nostrils flared. “Tell me why we’re going to this wedding.”

At this point, I’d rather shove bamboo shoots up my fingernails than meet Samantha or his parents.

Jasper’s gaze dropped to the sheet and he plucked at the cotton. “For a long, long time, I was Samantha’s. She’s a very possessive person.”

“Yet she was okay with you screwing other women? How does that make sense?”

“Her game. Her rules.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense but whatever.” I’d already expended more energy toward that woman than she deserved for breaking his heart. I wasn’t going to attempt to understand her motivations.

“Sam has rarely had people tell her no. Not her parents. Not even me. She’s . . . stubborn. She’ll push and push and push until she gets her way. I learned a long time ago, it was just easier to let her have it than fight.”

Was that part of why he’d taken that woman into their guest bedroom? Probably. I shuddered, using every ounce of mental strength to shove the images of Jasper with any other woman out of my head. Sam included.

“When I walked away from her, she lost. The battle is over. But she’s still fighting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sam and I still talk.” He swallowed hard. “She calls me.”

“And you answer? Even though she’s getting remarried. Even though you’re divorced. Why?”

“It’s, um, toxic.”

No shit. “What exactly do you mean, toxic?”

It was probably foolish for me to ask. This was probably opening the door for him to tell me he would always be in love with her. But if they spoke, if I was going to this wedding, I had to know.

“Sam would call and ask about the women I was fucking. And I’d tell her. I’d tell her every detail, my own revenge. She’d ask me if I pictured her face while I was inside another woman.”

I gasped. “That’s—”

“Fucked up. It’s fucked up.”

“Wait. Did you tell her about us?” Oh God. If he’d told her, I’d never recover from the humiliation.

Jasper met my gaze, and my chest cracked.

“You did,” I whispered.

He nodded.

“How dare you, Jasper Vale.” I swept up the only weapon within reach. A pillow. And slammed it into his head.

“I’m sorry.”

I hit him with the pillow again. He didn’t even try to block it. “What did you tell her?”

“That you were the best I’ve ever had.”

My teeth clenched. My hands gripped the sheets. “What else?”

“That’s it.”

I hit him with the pillow again. “You had no right. That’s private, Jasper.”

“I know, angel. I know.” He leaned in, his hands coming to frame my face as his eyes searched mine. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” That seemed like such a silly question in the face of a betrayal. But I needed to know.

“Without question.”

Well, at least that was something. “And do you see her? When you’re with me?” Please say no.

“No, El. I see you. I’ve only ever seen you.”

So why didn’t that make me feel better?

“Why do you answer her calls?”

He gave me a sad smile. “For a long, long time, she was all I had.”

Understanding dawned. While I had my parents, sisters, and brothers to lean on, Jasper had only had Samantha. She’d been his person. And he answered her calls because he wasn’t ready to let that go.

“Sam tries to keep me connected to our old life,” he said, letting me go. “She’ll bring up old memories, stories. Mostly of us together. The trips we took. The movies we watched or inside jokes we shared. But she’ll remind me of the stupid shit I did in school too. The days before I found Dan’s dojo.”

“Like what?”

“Drinking. Some drugs.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not proud. But it happened.”

“I get it.” There were plenty of kids in Quincy who drank. Some who experimented with drugs. Small-town parties were a rite of passage. “What else does she do?”

“She’ll have lunch with my mother, then call and give me some bullshit story about how Mom wishes I’d call. That I’d go home to visit. She tries to make me feel guilty for disconnecting with them.”

“You don’t talk to your parents?”

“I used to. I stopped.”

“Why?”

“Phone goes both ways, angel.”

Yes, it did. And if they didn’t care enough to reach out, it was their loss.

“Sam knows me well,” he said. “Despite how much I struggle with my parents, I’m still their kid. Still never stopped hoping I’d get the on switch.”

My heart squeezed. Okay, I hated his parents more than Sam. Maybe. It was a toss-up.

Jasper deserved the on switch. Was that why he was so hesitant with my family? Because he didn’t even know what loving parents looked like? Fuck Sam for playing on his vulnerability.

“So she calls to, what? Guilt you into coming back?”

“Basically. I haven’t seen her or my parents since the divorce.”

Whoa. That was a long time.

“For years, I think she thought if she could just get me to come home, I’d take her back. Sam, her parents, mine . . . they all think I went through some sort of mental break and that’s why I moved to Vegas. But what none of them have tried to understand is that I have a better life. That I’m content as a trainer. That I don’t need or want a spotlight. That their money could sink to the bottom of the ocean, and I wouldn’t give a damn.”

They didn’t see the good in him. They didn’t see what made him special.

But I did.

“I’m still mad at you for telling her about our sex life.”

“I’m mad at me too.” He took my hand, lifting it to his mouth to kiss my fingertips. “Forgive me. Please.”

“If you ever tell another soul about us, I’ll feed you to my dad’s dogs.”

“Fair enough.”

“Fine. Then I forgive you.”

Maybe I should have been angrier. Held on to my anger with a steely grip. But as much as it annoyed me, embarrassed me, that a stranger knew we had incredible sex, that stranger was also his ex.

And part of me liked that he’d thrown something in her face.

So I shifted, the sheets rustling as I moved. We were close, but not close enough. So I crawled into his lap, curling against his chest.

It took him a moment—it usually did, especially when he was asleep—but his arms looped around me. Just like they did when he was asleep.

I cuddled.

And Jasper held me.

“I still don’t understand why we’re going to the wedding.” If he’d walked away, if he’d found a better life, why wade into the cesspool again?

“Like I told you, that invitation she sent me was a dare.”

“A dare.” My hand went to his chest, tracing swirls on his skin. “To see if you had the guts to face her.”

“More or less. And I’m sure she wants to rub her new husband in my face.”

“Who is he?”

Jasper shifted us, scooting back to lean against the pillows, but he kept me in his lap. “A guy who went to our high school. He was a prick back then. I doubt that has changed.”

“What if you just told them to fuck off?”

“Then she’d win.”

So Jasper was still fighting too. Still holding on. He was still trying to prove he’d made the right decision. That he wasn’t a failure by walking away.

“I’m going because I need to see her. To face her.”

Because he still loved her? “Does she know you’re bringing me?”

He nodded.

“Does she know that we’re married?”

He nodded again. “She called me a while ago. I told her.”

Probably the same call when he’d told her I was the best sex of his life. Take that, Sam. “Do your parents know about me?”

“I got an email from Dad a few days after that. It said he heard congratulations were in order. That he was looking forward to meeting you at the wedding.”

“Oh. That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

A polite, shallow email. Meanwhile, my brothers had stormed into my house to confront Jasper. My parents were likely writing letters for an intervention.

Jasper had said that his parents weren’t cruel, but I wholeheartedly disagreed. His parents were the definition of cruel. Ignoring a child was cruel. Having a child so your wealth would have a landing spot . . . cruel.

It was heartbreaking. No wonder he’d clung to Dan.

I only wished that when he’d asked Dan why he’d been special, Dan had made it crystal clear. I wished that Dan had told Jasper he was incredible. That he was kind. And though it was guarded behind a plethora of locked doors, that Jasper had a good heart.

Dan should have told him he was important.

Well, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. Before this was over, Jasper would have at least one person in his life tell him he was worthy of love.

“I’m using you, El.” Jasper’s arms banded tighter. “By taking you to this wedding, I’m using you because I want to throw your beautiful face in theirs.”

Did he expect that to surprise me? Or piss me off? It didn’t. “Hell, yeah. We’re going together, and I’m going to look hot.”

Jasper stared down at me, eyes wide and unblinking.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“Not sure I deserve you.”

“Oh, you probably don’t,” I teased, earning a chuckle. Not quite the laugh, but I’d take what I could get from this man.

“It won’t be a fun trip,” he muttered.

The wedding was in Italy, something I’d learned about six weeks ago when Jasper had asked me if I had my passport. It was in the gun safe at Mom and Dad’s house. I’d gotten it simply to have, in case of a spontaneous trip. It still had Eden as my last name. So did my driver’s license.

There was no point in changing them to Vale, only to change them back.

“This will be the first time I’ve been to Europe,” I told him. “I’m having fun, no matter what.”

“All right.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Then we’ll have fun.”

“I, um, actually got you something.” I’d been waiting weeks for the right time to do this. A rush of nerves spiked as I shifted off Jasper’s lap, stretching for the nightstand on my side of the bed.

Pulling the drawer back, I felt around until my finger grazed the small, metal circle. I tucked it into my palm, then returned to my spot on Jasper’s lap, letting him draw the sheet around my shoulders.

“Since we’re going to this wedding for some revenge, and you got me a ring before my family’s function. Here.” With it pinched between my fingers, I held up the ring I’d ordered online.

It was titanium. Simple but bold, like Jasper. The inside and outer edges were polished to a shine, but the center had a matte sheen.

Jasper stared at the ring but made no move to take it from my hand.

My nerves doubled. “You said you didn’t wear rings.”

He kept staring at it, like if he touched it, the metal would burn his hand.

Okay, bad idea. I was about to throw it back in the drawer, to pretend like it never existed, when he moved, twisting us both so fast I barely realized what he was doing until I was flat on my back.

“Thank you. For the ring.” Jasper hovered above me, his eyes searching mine.

“Welcome. You don’t have to wear it. It was just a thought.”

“Okay,” he whispered. Then his mouth claimed my own, his tongue sweeping inside. He kissed me until I was breathless, until I pleaded for more.

We clung to each other until long after the thunderstorm outside had passed. Until I was boneless and fell into a deep sleep.

At some point during the night, the ring slipped out of my fingers and disappeared. Lost in the tangle of sheets.

The next morning, when I left Jasper sleeping to go to work, all I knew was that the ring wasn’t on his finger.

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