Chapter 8: Pickle

I held the phone out to Jasper across the quilt.

He read the text once, and his face didn't change.

"You said you wouldn't lie to me," I said. "I'm asking."

He sat up against the iron headboard with the sheet at his waist.

The fire had burned low, and light from the lake lay along his shoulders.

"Both of my engagements ended at month eight," he said.

"Because they left you?"

"Because I did."

I waited.

"Nobody cheated, nobody fought."

"Both times, in the eighth month, I woke up one morning and ended it. I let the papers say whatever they wanted."

"Why?"

"I don't know," he said.

It was the first thing he'd told me that sounded like it cost him.

"I've asked myself. I get to month eight and I can't breathe."

"Does anybody know that?"

"My grandmother. My uncle knows the dates, not the reason. He's been using the dates for two years."

I thought about Adelaide's question, and I put it away for later.

"Lyle thinks it's a weapon," I said.

"Lyle can think what he likes."

"So you'd have left me in June."

The words sat in the room.

Jasper went very still.

"That isn't funny," he said.

"It wasn't a joke. My number is nine, so I'd have beaten you to it."

He looked at the quilt, and then at me, and there was something raw and unguarded in his face.

"Did you book the biopsy?"

"No."

"It's the seventh. That's Wednesday."

"I know what day it is."

"Dinah."

"I don't want a number," I said. "I have a number. I'd like to use it."

He was quiet a long time.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Billionaire Completes My Bucket List from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.