Surrender to Me (16 page)

Jasper shrugs.

“That doesn't answer my question.”

Jasper reaches into his pocket to pull out his keys. “Goodnight
Ava,” he says, dismissing me while walking off towards his front door.

“Goodnight? I don't think so,” I reply, grabbing his arm to stop his
retreat.

He turns to look at me, his striking blue eyes illuminated by the
streetlight.

“Why did you write me such a beautiful piece of music?” I whisper,
almost afraid of his reply.

“You think it's beautiful?” he asks, and he seems surprised.

I nod. “It's the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”

Jasper looks slightly taken aback by my forwardness. “Come inside,”
he says after a few moments of silence.

I hesitantly let go of him, hoping he won’t run off and leave me out
here without answering my questions.

He walks up his stairs and opens the door, but I don’t move, too
afraid to find out the truth. With his hand braced on the frame, he turns and
grins at my frozen stature.

“Well, are you coming?” 

Nodding quickly as I came here for answers, I walk up the stairs
promptly, but he stands in front of me, blocking me from entering the house. He
leans his face into mine, and I let out a tiny gasp.

“I like your dress,” he says, his warm breath bouncing off my
cheeks.

Totally forgetting what I'm wearing, I look down and remember I
chose my blue sundress. I know he likes this dress because it is something I
have worn before, and not some flashy new number like the ones he has seen me
in recently.

“Thanks,” I whisper, fiddling with the strap which has fallen off my
shoulder.

He smirks and takes a step back, allowing me to slip past him.

As soon as I enter his house, so many memories come flooding back
and I need to sit, so I do. I plonk onto the sofa and stare around the room,
remembering all the moments shared with Jasper in here.

“Do you want a drink?” he asks, throwing his keys onto the table.

I shake my head, still gazing around the room.

“Not much of a talker now are you?” he jokes while slipping off his
black sweater, and tossing it onto the recliner.

That snaps me out of my stupor. 

“Sorry, I'm just... thinking.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Jasper grins smugly, and leaves me to my
gawking.

A few moments later, he returns with a black fluff ball.

Oscar.

Leaping up off my seat, I run over to him.

“Baby,” I coo. “Mama missed you.”

Oscar looks at me, instantly recognizing my voice, and I melt when I
see his little face. I reach forward to scratch him on the head, but he
startles me when he lets out a small hiss.

Jasper chuckles and the sound kicks me straight in the guts. “Looks
like someone is mad at you.”

I peer up at him and smile. “Join the queue buddy,” I mumble under
my breath. 

Finally Oscar allows me to pat him, and is purring contentedly in
Jasper’s arms.

I gather up the courage to ask, “You didn't answer my question.”

“Which one?” Jasper replies, quickly smirking.

God damn, he is so hot. His tight navy t shirt is stretching across
his chest, shaping out his collarbones and upper torso, but I won't let him
distract me, as I need my questions answered.

Deciding to get the easy one out of the way first, I ask, “Why do
you have Oscar?”

Jasper lowers his eyes and takes a deep breath, which does amazing
things to his chest.

Quit it Ava. Focus.

“Because he's yours.”

O-Kay. That was meant to be the easy question.

“Oh,” I reply, because I have no idea how to respond to that.

Jasper sighs. “I missed you Ava. And being close to something that
belonged to you helped that ache go away.”

I gulp. “Oh.”

Jasper has that stupid smug look on his face again as he smirks,
“For someone who was full of questions, you have gone awfully quiet all of a
sudden.”

That full of himself jerk!

Okay, fine! He wants questions, watch me.

“Why do you still have my cat? I mean after you left, I didn't think
you wanted anything to do with me. Isn't having him here a constant reminder of
me? And why did you write that piece of music for me? You could have just put
your spin on a Beethoven number, but you wrote one especially for me, and it
was so beautiful. What does it all mean, because your actions aren't those of
someone who is meant to hate me? Because you hate me, right?”

And I take a deep breath. There, I think I'm done. 

Jasper lowers Oscar who runs off into the kitchen. 

He frowns and shakes his head, his messy hair shading his eyes. “I
don't hate you Ava.” 

“You don't?” I whisper, stunned.

“No.”

“But every time I see you, you're mad at me, or don't want to be
around me,” I say, thinking back to our previous encounters. 

“I don't hate you,” he reiterates. “I hate how you make me feel.”

“I don't understand,” I reply quietly.

Jasper looks pained as he answers my question. “I want to hate you,
but I can't. And I hate that you still have this effect over me. That's what I
hate.”

“Oh.”

I don't know if I should be crying or celebrating.

Jasper takes a step closer towards me, and I am so happy he isn’t
walking away. “I wrote that piece of music for you because you inspired me
to. I just sat at the piano, and it came spilling out of me.”

“It’s beautiful,” I smile, wishing I could smash my lips to his to
show him how much it meant to me.

“Thank you,” he replies, reaching forward hesitantly, and brushing
my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering by my cheek. “It was written for a
beautiful person.”

I gasp, biting my trembling lip. “You still think I'm beautiful?
Even after everything?”

Jasper nods. “You'll always be beautiful to me.”

I don't understand. I want to stomp my foot in protest. If he still
feels this way, why did he tell me to forget him? My mouth is poised open,
ready to ask him about his note, when the front door opens and in strolls a
beauty queen.

Harmony.

Harmony
is the female version of Jasper. They are both stunning and turn heads whenever
they walk into a room. They look perfect together, as their flawless angular
features rival any runway model.

Harmony
and Jasper met when her puppy was unwell, and Jasper cared for him at the
shelter he works at. I knew Harmony wanted more with Jasper, but he was
emotionally tied to me at the time. But now, he is not tied to me whatsoever. 

“Jasper?” she asks when she sees him touching me.

He closes his eyes and lets out a tiny breath.

“Hi Harmony,” he replies, dropping his hand by his side. 

I shyly peer over at her.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I thought we had plans.” She
looks slightly annoyed, but more so confused.

Jasper pinches the bridge of his nose. “We do.”

I suddenly feel ill because by the way Harmony is looking at Jasper,
I know something is going on between them.  Not wanting to be the third
wheel, I back away from Jasper and collect my bag.

“I'll talk to you... um later.”

“Ava, wait,” Jasper says, attempting to stop me, but I dodge him.

“No. I really should go,” I mumble, racing out the door where my
tears spill over my cheeks before I even reach my car.

Jumping into my car, I sob hysterically and hit the steering wheel
in anger and frustration. I'm frustrated at myself for letting Jasper go. I
can't be mad at him for moving on, because I'm engaged for fuck’s sake. I have
no one to blame but myself, and I sob harder at that thought.

I am so conflicted with my feelings for Jasper, and I know it’s
wrong to want him, and I know I should stop.

But how can I stop something I so desperately want?

Chapter 15

I Just Died in Your Arms

T
he only cure for a
broken heart is pancakes. Harper as per usual came in late last night, and left
early for work. But I seriously am not bothered by his lack of involvement
because as each day passes without him, I am slowly forgetting I am here with
him.

Parking my car, I head into my favorite diner which serves the best
pancakes known to mankind. The bell chimes above the door as I enter, and as
usual, coffee and maple syrup assault my nostrils.

Looking over at the booth Jasper and I usually sat at, I smile when
I notice it’s free. Picking up a menu, I make my way over to it, totally
oblivious to my surroundings. That is until I see a familiar head of tousled
hair laughing happily, while sipping a cup of coffee.

Jasper.

Throwing myself into the booth and holding up the menu over my face,
it’s only when I hear a throat clearing do I pull down the menu an inch, to see
a waitress looking at me strangely.

“Um Miss, everything okay?”

“Ssshhh,” I whisper, not wanting to alert Jasper to my presence.

“Okay. What can I get you then?” she asks, clearly puzzled by my odd
behavior.

“Just a chai soy latte thanks,” I say, just above a whisper, peering
over her shoulder to ensure Jasper hasn’t seen me.

“Anything to eat?”

“No thank you.” The thought of eating anything ties a big knot in my
stomach.

She writes down my order and mumbles something about everyone being
on drugs as she walks off.

I am still peering over the edge of the menu, but lower it slightly
so I can see who Jasper is sitting with.

An older lady with long, dark brown hair, which is tied in a loose
ponytail, sits across from Jasper, laughing at something he has said. When I
see her eyes, her cerulean eyes, they give her away. She's his mom. His mom who
he recently made amends with.

She was a shitty parent who neglected Jasper as a child, and turned
her back on him when his abusive father used him and his brother as his
personal punching bags. Goes without saying, they had a rocky relationship, but
Jasper has put the past behind him and has forgiven her.

Jasper is smiling, looking genuinely happy with her, and she too
looks like she is pleased to be laughing with her son over breakfast. I am glad
Jasper could forgive her because we only have one mom, and even though she
mistreated him when he needed her the most, everyone deserves a second chance.

I continue my spying, and am grateful I am hidden in this huge booth
behind a tall pot plant. I lean further onto the edge of the seat so I can
get a better view.

“Here you go miss,” the waitress says, placing my latte in front of
me, giving me yet another strange look.

Giving her a sheepish smile, I shuffle over into my seat, totally
aware that I look like a stalker.

“Do you know them?” she asks, nodding her head towards Jasper and
his mom.

“Yes,” I smile. “How long have they been here?”

“About an hour,” she shrugs. “It's nice that young man has company
for once. He's usually in here alone.”

“He is?” I ask shocked.

“Yes. He actually always requests this booth,” she says while
looking down at the booth I'm sitting at. My heart warms instantly.

“What does he order?” I ask casually, trying not to sound like a
crazy person.

The middle aged waitress scratches her head with her pen, as if
trying to recall his order. “If I remember correctly, he orders black coffee
and
the Whole Wheat and Honey Pancakes with whipped butter and…”

“Maple syrup,” I finish off.

He orders my favorite. I would order those pancakes without fail,
every time we came here. But why, why would he do that?  I cover my hand over
my mouth shocked.

“Is that bad?” she asks when she notices my reaction.

I shake my head. “No, it's really really good. It means he still
cares.”

The waitress smiles warmly. “I’ll never understand you young folk,”
and she pats my shoulder before walking off.

If I thought I was confused earlier, now I am totally puzzled.

Talk about mind fuck of the century.

Still trying to decipher what the hell all this means, I fail to
notice Jasper and his mom stand up, ready to leave, until they are walking
towards my table. He pulls his wallet out from his back pocket, and I suddenly
don’t feel so hidden, but very exposed, as this flimsy pot plant may as well be
invisible with him walking towards me!

I begin to panic.

I hide behind the only thing I can. The menu.

My head is buried deep into it, and my nose is inches away from
rubbing against the laminate. I know I look ridiculous, but it's the best I can
come up with, considering what I have to work with.

“Ava?”

I lower the menu an inch, and observe Jasper looking awfully amused
at this situation.

“Hi,” I squeak.

“Are you hiding behind a menu?” he chuckles.

I lower it onto my lap. “No, of course not,” I scoff, totally
busted.

He looks at me unbelieving. “I think you were. You really need to
come up with better hiding spots,” he laughs quietly, and I know he is
referring to the incident when he caught me hiding in the fridge.

I blush at the memory. 

Jasper’s mom clears her throat.

“Oh sorry mom, this is my friend Ava.”

Promptly standing, I extend my hand, but she looks down her
nose at me, curling her lip in distaste. But she quickly smiles when Jasper
shuffles uncomfortably next to her.

“Nice to meet you Ava,” she says while shaking my hand lightly.

I feel her instant dislike for me, and she confirms it when she
wipes the hand I just shook on her pants.

I stare at her hand, and then peer down at me.

Okay, I might look a little casual in my short denim shorts and
faded grey ‘Save The Whales’ tee, but I was not anticipating meeting my ex-boyfriend’s
mom.

I look at Jasper who seems to have the total opposite reaction to
his mom, as I witness him checking out my legs.

“We better go,” Jasper’s mom says as she too witnesses her son’s
approval of me.

Jasper smiles when I widen my eyes to tell him to stop ogling me in
front of his mom.

“Are you coming to Little Sisters tonight? We're playing a show,” he
says after he’s done checking me out.

I nod, surprised he would invite me. “Yeah sure, I'd love to.”

“Okay, see you tonight,” he smiles, and surprises me by giving me a
chaste kiss on the cheek.

I watch them leave and am unaware of the hand I have pressed to my
cheek, until my waitress saunters past, with a coffee pot in hand.

“I think he likes you.”

I stroke my hand over my recently kissed cheek and smile.

“I think so too.”

*****

“
Are you sure you want to come?
It's just a bunch of us hanging out, watching Lucas’ band.” And Jasper’s, I
silently add.

“Of course I do,” Harper replies as he turns towards me while
buttoning up his white linen shirt.

He leaves the top two buttons undone, and he knows he looks good.
His ripped chest would stir up feelings of lust and longing amongst many women,
and I would be lying if I didn’t confess that I do find him attractive, but
now, because of this situation, I barely conjure up a response to seeing his
flesh on display. And that’s because I am sitting on our huge bed, nervously
twisting my hands in my lap, wishing tonight was one of those nights where
Harper had to work.

As he slips into charcoal pleated pants and rolls up the sleeves of
his shirt, I suddenly feel nauseous.  He is actually coming, and I really need
to come up with a plan of action quick smart. Without a doubt, Harper will know
something is up with Jasper and I, and that thought brings about another steady
spell of nausea. I cover my mouth and swallow nervously.

Harper slips on his silver Rolex, raising an inquisitive brow. “Are
you okay? You’ve been so jumpy these past few days.”

I nod immediately. “I’m fine.”

How would he know? This is the first time I have had a proper
conversation with him in days.

I subconsciously begin twirling a bracelet I haven’t worn since the
day Jasper broke my heart. Today however, is the first day I have felt like I
won’t breakdown by having it anywhere near me. Peering down at the silver charm
bracelet Jasper gave me last Christmas, I smile, and I don’t know why, but
today I feel different about this piece of jewellery. I have treasured it since
the day I received it, and nothing will ever compare to it. I finger the bird
charm, and will never forget the feeling of being given something so beautiful.

Harper looks at me strangely as he walks into the bathroom, and he
quickly re-enters the room with the biggest bunch of roses I have ever seen.
These roses I’m convinced are a hybrid breed, as they are humongous!

Harper sits on the bed, placing them into my lap, while kissing my
temple softly. “I thought these would cheer you up. And it’s also to apologize
for putting work before you.”

I toy with the soft petals, and instead of his gesture cheering me
up, it has the opposite effect. I should be overjoyed that my fiancée has just
given me the world’s biggest bunch of Roses known to mankind, but I’m not. I
liked the purple Hyacinths better; they were not an obnoxious flower like these
red Roses. They were heartfelt, and they showed me he cared.

“Don’t you like them?” he asks.

I instantly feel guilty for being so ungrateful and shake my head,
my high ponytail swinging with the motion. “Of course I do, I love them. Thank
you.”

“Then why do you look like I’ve just given you Carnations?” Harper
jokes.

Looking into his blue eyes, I remember how kind he was when I was
mourning Jasper. “I was just thinking about the time you gave me the bunch of
purple Hyacinths.”

I witness a change in Harper’s expression, one I can’t make sense
of, but it doesn’t look good.

“What about them? You can’t tell me those flowers compare to these,”
he says, while flicking his fingers towards the bunch in my lap.

I loved those purple Hyacinths, and I cringe when he refers to them
so cheaply. “I just thought you would give me another bunch of them, seeing as
you were saying sorry,” I reply sheepishly, not wanting to appear
unappreciative.

“What does that have to do with saying sorry?” Harper asks, and
there is a sharp tone in his voice.

Scrunching up my face, I push tendrils of my hair behind my ear. Was
it just a coincidence he got me those flowers in Singapore? Did he not know the
meaning of them after all?

“Nevermind, thank you,” I smile, giving him a chaste kiss on the
cheek.

Hopping off the bed, I walk over to the bedside table to grab my
bag, and I have a niggling feeling as I place the flowers on the dresser that
something is off. But I really don’t have the time or energy to deal with it
right now.

“Do you think we could cab it tonight?”

Harper hasn’t gotten off the bed, and he still has that damn
indecipherable look on his face.

“Yeah sure, that’s fine,” he answers blankly.

Placing a palm on my cocked hip, I reply, “Really? Gee, that was
easy.”

“That’s what our relationship should be Ava- easy.”

He rises and pulls his sports blazer off the back of a chair.

I cringe as our relationship is anything but.

Ignoring his comment, I quickly grab my black cardigan. “Okay, let’s
go then.”

Harper looks at my clothes like they have just slapped both his
cheeks.

He clears his throat. “You’re wearing that?”

Looking down at my navy Converse, blue ripped jeans and tight white
‘Little Sisters V neck t-shirt, I reply, “Yeah, what’s wrong with my clothes?”

I am so sick of people commenting on my attire, as I can’t please
anyone with my fashion choices lately. Although this current outfit is one I
feel most defensive about, because this is what I like. This is me, not the
other ostentatious garments I’ve been wearing. V was right, and I just needed
that kick in the butt to snap me out of my Chanel coma.

“What about all the other things I bought you?”

I slip on my silver onyx ring that is sitting on the bedside table.
“I don’t feel like wearing them.”

Harper fixes his perfect collar and snaps, “So you prefer your
appearance to resemble a homeless person?”

There it is- that condescending tone that grates on my nerves, and
pisses me off. Harper can be kind, but he can also be cruel. And when that side
shines, it overshadows any kindness he has shown in the past.