Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“He may once have been like that, but -” I start to protest.
“If you’re going to try to tell me that he’s changed,” Mom cuts me off, “let me tell you something about men like Logan Daniels. They don’t change. They never do.”
“You’re wrong about him!” I exclaim in a heated tone. “He’s been wonderful to me. He’s more than just a playboy! He has genuine interest in my life. He helped me enroll in college and supports my studies. Anything I could ask for, he makes it happen for me. He’s even taking me to go see Dad in jail.”
“And that’s supposed to make him husband material?” Mom demands. “Please honey. There’s a lot more to being a husband than that.”
This takes me off guard.
“Who said anything about Logan being my husband?” I whisper. “And what would you know about a successful relationship, anyways? It’s not like you’ve had one!”
But the words on my tongue taste sour. How is it possible that Mom saw right through me and knew that marriage is what I secretly dream of and hope for?
“Oh, please,” Lily sighs, as if this conversation is tiresome. “As if you’re not angling for a ring on your finger! Don’t blame yourself, Jasmine, because all women do. But you need to be careful. That’s all I’m saying, baby girl. Men like Logan Daniels simply don’t propose to women like you and me. He’s out of our league, don’t you see?”
I stare at her.
“No, that’s not true. That’s not how he is.”
Lily shakes her head sadly.
“You’ve been reading too many romance novels where the prince marries a down-on-her-luck Cinderella. But in the real world, those rags to riches stories don’t exist, Jasmine. You know that. Rich men marry rich women, or even middle-class women. They don’t marry hussies who live in harems. Come on. I taught you better than that.”
Her words sting, and I’ve had enough.
“Mom,” I whisper, suddenly feeling very tired. “I think you should leave.” I expect Lily to get up and stomp off, slamming the door behind her. But instead, she stares at me for a moment, and I think I can see a glimmer of regret in her eyes. But I must have been mistaken, because instead she says quietly, “Just don’t come running to me when he’s done with you and tosses you out like you’re nothing. You’ve officially made it so that when that happens, you truly have nowhere else to go.”
And when Lily gets up, she leaves calmly, closing the door behind her with a quiet click, leaving me behind in sorrow, praying she’s wrong.
9
Logan
The wind is chilly, and I look over at Jasmine to see if she’s feeling the effects. The curvy girl has both arms wrapped around her torso, but it’s not from the cold. Instead, she’s lost in thought and for good reason too because we’re standing in the waiting area at Ardsley Correctional Facility, along with a dozen or so other people who have come to visit an inmate. We’re here to visit Jasmine’s father, Willy, who is serving time for kiting checks. The visiting room will open in just a few minutes, and Jasmine seems nervous.
It's understandable though. My girlfriend’s wanted to visit her father for a while, but she didn’t feel ready for a multitude of reasons. As a loyal boyfriend, I’ve offered to accompany her, which she gratefully accepted. But even though the thought of having me by her side seemed to comfort her, she still resisted. Until last night.
After I got home from my meetings in the city, I went straight to Jasmine and found her in a quiet, reflective mood. When I asked her how her meeting with her mom went, she didn’t want to talk about it, so not wanting to pry, I dropped the subject. But over dinner, Jasmine brought up my offer to take her to see her father, and asked if we could go today. I wonder if there’s something linking Willy and Lily? I suppose they were once married, so anything’s possible.
But I immediately agreed. I only had one meeting today, which I rescheduled, and we drove here for the morning visitation slot. The entire trip, Jasmine’s been quiet. In the car, I put my hand on her knee, which she gently squeezed, but other than that, I couldn’t read the curvy girl. What in the world is going through her mind?
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I whisper, inclining my head so only Jasmine can hear. The waiting room is uncannily quiet, almost spooky with its fluorescent lighting casting odd shadows about the room. She nods, but other than that, Jasmine seems to be lost in her own world. I don’t blame her because an angel like Jasmine doesn’t belong in a scummy place like a prison. Her soft, beautiful features look entirely out of place in the grim, gray room. She shouldn’t have to be here. She should have had a father who protected her and did his best by her. At the very least, Willy Bleeker should have made provisions for his daughter so that she didn’t have to fend for herself at a young age.