Chapter 4. You Bastard!

Jasmine truly believed she had made peace with her past, that she had let Xavier go and learned to live a life without him. Everything had gone according to plan. She moved on, piece by piece, even though there were fleeting moments when his face would come back—on nights when loneliness slipped into her heart and soul. Then, his memory returned like a bittersweet companion, a reminder of how deeply she had once loved—and how cruelly that love had been broken.

But now Xavier was back, shattering the fragile peace she had built. He returned like a storm crashing into the calm of her life. The greatest blow: he and her sister were getting engaged.

Jasmine wished desperately that this was only a nightmare, that she would wake up and escape from it. But no. This was reality. Xavier Coldwell—the man who had abandoned her without a word years ago—was about to become her brother-in-law.

Her eyes filled with tears at the thought. She buried her face into her pillow, inhaling deeply to stifle the sobs threatening to break free. “Stupid! Why are you crying? You’re supposed to have moved on!” she scolded herself bitterly, her muffled voice absorbed into the softness of the pillow.

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the blank white ceiling. Her chest still ached, but at least the tears had stopped. Yet as her mind began to wander, Xavier’s image flooded in again.

He looked even more handsome than the last time she saw him. His jaw sharper, his chin shadowed with a hint of stubble, as though he hadn’t shaved for days. His frame taller, broader, stronger. Just one glance had been enough—he had changed a lot. Too much.

And so had she. The only thing that hadn’t changed in four years was her heart. He was still there, haunting her thoughts, dominating her memories.

Jasmine despised herself for it. But she swore she would push back. She would turn every fragment of her pain into hatred. One day, she would no longer ache for him. Until then, she would hide her emotions, control her face, and keep her family from ever suspecting what had existed between her and Xavier. More than anything, she wanted to run—to leave London entirely and never see him again.

Her thoughts turned to Bernard. Though they were a couple, her feelings for him had never been more than the warmth of companionship. Bernard knew it, he understood it. But perhaps she could use him as an escape.

A sudden idea struck her: she would tell her parents she planned to join Bernard in Dubai. That way, she could avoid Jelena’s engagement altogether. Yes—that would be better than torturing herself by watching her sister promise forever to the man she still loved with all her heart.

***

At dinner that night, Jasmine entered the dining room wearing a simple lilac dress. She had deliberately chosen a cheerful shade and applied makeup heavier than usual—bright lipstick, carefully blended concealer—to disguise the evidence of her tears. Without it, her reddened eyes and pale lips would give her away instantly.

Her parents, Jelena, and of course… Xavier were already seated.

“Jasmine, what took you so long? I’m starving!” Jelena teased.

Jasmine forced a thin smile and muttered an apology. She sat beside her mother—directly across from Xavier. She fought with everything in her to keep from glancing at him.

“Never mind, we’re all here now,” Mila said warmly.

“Yes, let’s eat!” Johan added.

Dinner began. Jelena, glowing with affection, fed Xavier little bites with playful tenderness. The display was ordinary between lovers—but to Jasmine it was unbearable.

For her, it was the hardest family dinner she had ever endured. Even the tender meat before her tasted like sand in her mouth, impossible to swallow. Her father’s cheerful conversation with Xavier flowed easily, her mother and sister occasionally joining in. Jasmine sat silent, forcing herself to chew slowly, outwardly calm though her heart churned like a November storm.

When the torturous meal finally ended, Jasmine felt relief flood through her. Half her food remained untouched, and she thought she might vomit if she swallowed one more bite.

“Darling, are you alright? Why didn’t you finish your dinner?” her mother asked gently.

Jasmine turned to her with a bright, practiced smile. “I had too many snacks this afternoon, Mom. I got full too quickly.”

Mila nodded and waved for dessert to be served. “Jelena, I had the chef make your favorite cake. And pudding for Jasmine as well.” Then, she turned to Xavier. “And what about you, Xavier? Do you have a favorite dessert?”

Xavier had been silent, lost in thought. At Mila’s words, he looked up and smiled. “I like pudding, Aunt. Just like Jasmine.”

Mila clapped her hands together happily. “What a coincidence!” She instructed the staff to bring out an assortment of puddings, far more than they could ever finish.

“You like pudding?” Jelena whispered to Xavier, surprised.

He frowned slightly. “Oh? You never asked.”

Meanwhile, Jasmine clenched her fists beneath the table. She knew Xavier better than anyone. She remembered everything. And she was certain—he hated sweets, especially pudding. Why would he suddenly claim otherwise?

Against her will, her eyes flicked up at him. Four years was plenty of time to change, she reasoned. Maybe his tastes had simply shifted. But when she lowered her gaze again, she realized the truth: Xavier wasn’t talking to the family. He was speaking to her.

Because yes—he had succeeded. He had captured her attention.

His satisfied smile across the table proved it. Jasmine ignored him for the rest of the night.

***

Exhaustion dragged at Jasmine as she excused herself from her family and headed upstairs. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, her chest burned with stress. Xavier’s presence wrought chaos inside her—even after only a single day of being back in her life.

She quickened her steps, desperate for the solitude of her room, for the safety of her blanket, where she could finally give in to her tears.

Her heart ached at the sight of Xavier and Jelena acting so close. Guilty or not, she couldn’t control her feelings. Thankfully, none of her family suspected a thing—not her parents, not Jelena. Her mask had held.

But as she reached for her bedroom door, a warm hand suddenly caught hers. She gasped, spinning around—only to find Xavier standing inches away.

Her eyes widened. “Xa—Xavier?”

He didn’t answer. His gaze bore into hers, and at once she felt herself drowning in the dark brown depths that had always undone her.

“Move. You’re in my way,” she demanded, though her voice shook.

Xavier lifted his hand, caressing her face with a touch so achingly gentle it stole her breath. His thumb brushed just beneath her eye, reading her sorrow as though it were written there.

That single touch slammed into her like lightning. Memories she had buried came rushing like a violent tide. Her chest constricted, her heart pounded wildly—all from one fleeting stroke of his hand.

Xavier leaned closer, his lips near her ear, whispering with quiet certainty. “Just as I thought. You’ve been crying.”

Reality snapped Jasmine back. Fury surged. She shoved his hand away, her eyes blazing. “Watch yourself, Xavier Coldwell!” she hissed, tearing herself from his presence.

She wrenched her door open, stepped inside, and slammed it behind her. Her back pressed against the wood, her breathing ragged—like she had just escaped a ghost.

From the other side of the door came his deep, unshaken voice. “We need to talk, Jasmine. I won’t stop until you do.”

Jasmine’s knees buckled. She crumpled to the floor, a bitter curse escaping her lips.

“You bastard.”