Page 71 of A Secret In The Garden

I didn’t know what it would look like or how to do it, but I was going to be my own person. Facing my fears and seeing the view from the balcony had proven that things could change. I would never again give a single person the power to control me. Ever. Not my mother, not Jasper, not anybody. I wouldn’t go from one leash to another, not now. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t let myself. It didn’t matter how pretty the leash was, it was still a leash.

When he held me over the ledge and slid himself into me, I had fully given every part of myself up and trusted him with my life. It felt dangerous and exciting. Already, I’d begun to want things from him that I shouldn’t—that I couldn’t.

My heart sank at the realization.

I had to leave in a few weeks. Was I so willing to give someone else all the control I was fighting tooth and nail to get myself? Did I actually want a relationship? I didn’t know.

Of course, I didn’t think Jasper would intentionally try to control or manipulate me; I knew he was a better person than that…or at least I believed so. But I also knew that somewhere along the line, my mother had found it a delectable treat destroying me, and once she got a taste, her appetite for hurting and controlling me had only increased with time. The same thing would happen if I let another person in…and already, I found myself trying to give everything up to Jasper so he could devour me in every way.

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

My mouth was sour with the realization of what was happening.

Here, I had been frustrated with Jasper and his fight against lowering his walls and letting me in when, in truth, I was the one who couldn’t let anyone in.

I moved to the edge of the bed and watched the sleeping man with wide eyes. I was nearly in a panic.

I was getting too close to Jasper, giving him the tools he could use to control and hurt me.

For god’s sake, I didn’t even really know yet if he had anything to do with the murder of his mother. Just because he hadn’t pushed her off the cliff years ago didn’t mean he had nothing to do with the fact that she was now only here as a ghost. What if he had? Would it make a difference? I could be serving myself up on a platter to another narcissist right now. What the fuck was I doing? My heart pounded so fast, there was no way he couldn’t hear it. Panic was about to set in; I could feel my face going numb.

Jasper stirred, adjusting positions, and my heart flew into my throat.

Why did I have to go and ruin everything? I had initiated the intimacy last night—I had touched him first. Now, the fun banter and sparks would be replaced with awkwardness and uncomfortable tension.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a cry. What if my coworkers found out? What would my boss say if he found out I had sex with Jasper?

My mother’s voice rang in my head: He only hired you because he wants to fuck you.

Did they all think that?

It made sense. I wasn’t qualified enough for that to have swayed him, and the men from the horticultural society had already been denied almost yearly.

What was I doing? I couldn’t be in a relationship. Not that I had any notion that he even wanted something more than a fuck buddy. All I knew was that I had let him get too close.

I was spiraling.

The room felt like it was a thousand degrees. Would he want to keep things between us going while I was here? Or would he start to lean into it, knowing that I felt it stronger than he did? Would he use that to manipulate me? It would work. He had touched me in the exact forceful way I have always craved. He felt my fear and excitement and had leaned into it. For weeks, he’d studied me—quietly, obsessively, the way a composer studies a melody. When he touched me, it was deliberate. Precise. He played me like a cello: low, haunting, reverent in his cruelty. Every stroke summoned my soul and its vulnerability. Jasper didn’t let anyone inside his walls; he’d told me as much, and yet here I was, being so stupid to believe that me—stupid, quiet, awkward, mousy me—just happened to be so appealing that I was the one to get through and have something special with him.

I was so stupid. Why would he want me for anything other than a quick fuck? He was a charming, fun, hot, millionaire playboy. I had practically hurled myself at him; what else was he going to do? It didn’t mean he had feelings for me, and even if he did, I couldn’t risk having anyone get that close to me. What if he was really controlling? He definitely controlled a lot of things in his life. Why would I do that to myself? I would get trapped. Fuck, if I thought I was financially imprisoned with my mom, I couldn’t imagine what sort of titanium cage Jasper and his millions could build. I could never get away and escape. I was still trying to figure out how to get out of my broke mother’s grasp.

I was going to have a panic attack. Was I already?

I grabbed a wad of clothes as quickly as my hands would allow and silently left the room.

I would be the only one in control of me from this day forward.

I just had to figure out what I was going to do to make sure my mother knew that too.

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Hours later, after I had changed in a bathroom downstairs and was using my panicked energy to break up the soil of the long flower bed along the back end of the conservatory, I heard the doors open.

“Hey,” Jasper said as he walked in. His eyes locked on me with force. I could feel him trying to decipher what was going on in my head after last night with that gaze. “You weren’t there when I woke up. Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh. Yep, everything’s fine.” I should’ve left it at that, but when our eyes locked and he looked so masculine and cozy, I suddenly wanted to run over to him and wrap every part of me around him in a hug. No! My walls came up, and the firing squad took aim. “You told me I could keep working in here, so I am.” I let out a forced, light chuckle. “My life doesn’t stop just because we fucked, Jasper.” Fuck, this was so much worse than I had been imagining how it would go.