There were a lot of Valentine’s Day pictures, and she wondered why she and Jasper hadn’t even thought to take one. Sasha spent a few minutes on her social media each day, but she rarely posted anything of her own. She was of the opinion that only the good should be posted online, and she honestly hadn’t had anything all that great in her life for almost a year.
But Jasper…he was the best thing that had happened to her, maybe ever.
She sighed and scrolled, almost putting her phone down to close her eyes again, bask in the affection she felt for the diamond-dealing billionaire who may have stolen her heart.
But a picture caught her eye. She knew that long, dark hair. The rugged, sexy square jaw of the Italian man she’d kissed so many times she lost count.
Newton’s hair was slicked back, and pure joy radiated from his face as he looked at the camera. He wore a white shirt, black bow tie, and black suit jacket—clearly a tux. And Amber, the blonde he’d run off with, beamed out of Sasha’s phone, her up-do, flawless makeup, and white dress all punching Sasha right in the chest.
Then the gut.
Then the lungs.
The caption was in Italian, which Newt had always promised to teach Sasha but never had, but she didn’t need to be able to read it.
He and Amber had gotten married. Married, when he’d told Sasha for months that he wasn’t the type to settle down, didn’t want all the strings marriage licenses and I do’s brought. Then it was that he didn’t have the money to buy the diamond he wanted for her. The excuses were endless, and somehow, Sasha hadn’t been able to see them for what they were at the time.
She could now, with a quick swipe to the right revealing a rock the size of a bowling ball on Amber’s manicured finger. Fine, it wasn’t that big, but the diamond certainly wasn’t small.
Sasha felt about two inches tall, and her breathing didn’t seem to be bringing in enough oxygen.
Because she suddenly knew—Newt wasn’t the marrying type, didn’t want to settle down, or spend his money on her.
But for Amber, who he clearly loved, he did all of the above.
A sob tore through Sasha’s throat, more angry than sad. “Why does he get to be happy?” she asked the pool water. The sun had started to peek through the clouds, and a bit of light made dazzling patterns over the bright blue water.
“Why does he just get to move on? Why does he still have power over me?” She wiped her face quickly. She would not cry over him. Oh, no, she would not. He would not beat her, though he’d taken her money and left her heart a shredded mess.
She tapped out a message to Jasper, knowing he wouldn’t get it for hours, but hoping he’d respond as soon as he landed in Switzerland.
Several days later, Sasha lay in her beach chair, her legs extended in front of her, trying to soak up as much sun as possible. The other Women’s Beach Club girls were all there, but the talking had died about a half an hour ago. With three of them so blissfully happy, there wasn’t much to detail these days.
In fast, Sasha had done most of the talking. She’d told them about Jasper’s mother, and how they were still running tests to find out what was going on with her. How worried he was. How they talked every morning, and he texted her constantly.
Stacey had asked if Sasha would soon have an engagement ring, but Sasha had just shook her head no, Newt’s traitorous face floating through her mind. She had not mentioned his recent nuptials to her friends, and the conversation had turned to Stacey’s wedding preparations.
She’d booked her own gardens at Aloha Hideaway for the blessed event, and it was only creeping up on them now. They’d talked through it all—the dress, the bridesmaid’s fittings, the hairstyles, the makeup artist, the flowers, the food. Honestly, Sasha thought Stacey’s original idea to elope sounded a lot better than planning a wedding.
“His parents want to come,” she’d said when Esther had asked about that. Stacey had been engaged twice before and had always vowed to simply elope if she found someone for a third time. But she’d been wearing Fisher DuPont’s diamond for eight months now, and she’d become his wife in only one more.
Sasha was happy for her friend; she was. She was simply still grappling with the idea of love and if she even knew what it was, or how it felt. She’d thought so with Newt, but he’d duped her so completely, she wasn’t sure anymore.
She knew when she pictured her life, Jasper was at her side. Her thoughts began to tumble in that direction when Tawny nudged her with her foot.
Sasha turned toward her and opened her eyes to find Tawny holding out her phone. “You’re gonna want to see this.”
Sasha took the phone as the other three women perked up. “What is it?”
“Tyler sent it to me.”
Her phone had a picture on the screen, an obvious screen shot from the header and partially cut off caption at the bottom.
A picture of Jasper and Dominique. They were pressed cheek-to-cheek, smiling like their lives depended on it, and he looked anything but “exhausted” and “worried” as his last text to her that morning had said.
Numbness spread through her though it was one of the warmest days they’d had in a while. She was so tired of being flayed open by social media.
But she couldn’t help reading the caption she could see. “Celebrating Valentine’s Day a little late with my Schätzchenli! So glad he’s back from….”
She handed the phone back, wondering what Schätzchenli meant. Probably boyfriend.
What if it means fiancé?
Sasha’s heart turned to ice, and she got up. “I’ll be right back.” She gripped her phone like she was trying to choke the life out of it.
“Sash,” Tawny called after her, and Sasha heard the other girls ask to see the phone as she walked away.
She didn’t care what they thought. But she would not be cheated on again, not here beneath her nose and not halfway across the world.
So she dialed Jasper’s number, not caring at all that it was two-thirty in the morning and she might wake him.
Chapter Eighteen
“Dad, you should really consider moving.” Jasper mixed too much sugar into his coffee and watched his father. He’d been having the same conversation since he’d arrived in Bern six days ago. His father’s face fell, the first indication Jasper had that he might actually be thinking about it.
“It’s just like Bern,” he said. “A quiet atmosphere. Quaint houses, right on the beach, if that’s what you want. There’s no snow.”
His mother had fallen on a patch of ice in the driveway, prompting their initial trip to the hospital. But they’d kept her due to some abnormal blood work. Since then, they seemed to take more blood than she had to give, running test after test.
They were supposed to get the final results that afternoon.
“I’m there,” Jasper said. “And I’m not going to leave.” The thought had been circling his mind since he’d gotten on the plane in Hawaii. Life would be much easier if he lived in Europe, from the work hours to being able to help his parents.
But Sasha was not in Europe, and Jasper always came back to her when the idea to leave Hawaii started growing.
“Mom would love it,” Jasper continued as if his father had engaged in the conversation. When he stayed silent, Jasper decided to let the subject sit. His phone went off, but as he kept it on silent in the house, only the screen flashed.
It wasn’t Sasha, and he didn’t really care to talk to anyone else. Especially Dominique, who’d sniffed him out almost the moment he’d landed. He wasn’t sure why she was so interested in him—he’d told her multiple times he had a girlfriend in Hawaii—but she didn’t seem deterred.
She was smart, and beautiful, and someone out there would be lucky to have her. But for him, there was simply no spark there. He doubted he’d be able to feel anything for another woman again, as he’d given his heart to Sasha.
He finished his coffee and they went to the hospital. His mom seemed in good spirits for the most
part. She’d been up and had started walking around, but she still wasn’t…right. Jasper wasn’t sure what was wrong, only that he knew something was.
She wasn’t herself, and it wasn’t only because of the bruised hip. They visited all afternoon, and still the doctor didn’t come in. He entertained himself by texting Sasha, who would be up in an hour or so. She’d said she liked waking up to his name on her phone, and he’d been sure to text her between five and six every evening so she’d have messages to read when she got up.
Tonight, he told her he was tired, exhausted really, and worried about his mom. He glanced up at her and found her studying him with a curious look on her face.
“Mom?” Maybe she’d said something to him and he’d been so absorbed in his phone, he hadn’t heard her. She’d been napping for a couple of hours but was wide awake now.
“Harold?”
Jasper flicked his eyes to his father, whose sandy hair like Jasper’s had gone white decades ago.
“Mom, I’m Jasper.” He took a step toward her like she was a tiny rodent he didn’t want to scare away. But alarms sounded all through his body. This was so much more than a physical ailment. This was dementia. Alzheimer’s. Something. Panic followed the alarms, and Jasper worked to keep his voice even.
“Do you know who I am?”
She blinked and it was like the light bulb had been turned back on in her brain. “Of course I know who you are. A mother knows her only son.” She looked at her husband, who frowned but said nothing.
He nodded to the hall and said, “Dad and I are going to go get the nurse and see if she kept your dinner.” He barely waited for the door to close before rounding on his dad. “Did you hear that? She thought I was you.”
“She’s just confused.”
Jasper settled his weight on one foot. “Dad.”
“She’s fine, Jasper.” But he wrung his hands like he knew there was something wrong too.
“Dad.” Jasper put one hand on his father’s shoulder, once so powerful, so authoritative. He spoke kindly when he said, “I don’t think she’s fine, Dad. How long has she been confusing things?”
“I don’t know. A few months. When you were here before, she kept saying that she hoped you’d bring Dominique to Danni’s wedding.”
Jasper pulled in a breath. “Danni’s been married for nine years, Dad.”
“I know. She was just confused.” His father looked at him with those same dark green eyes Jasper had, begging him to say everything would be okay. But Jasper had a feeling everything was about to change.
He turned away from his father, unable to give the comfort he wanted, and said, “I’m going to go find out why the doctor didn’t come this afternoon.” He half-expected his dad to come with him, not trusting Jasper to talk to the right person or get the job done correctly. But he just drifted back into the hospital room where his wife lay, and Jasper realized how old they’d gotten.
His heart squeezed and pinched. Oh, how he loved them and wanted to be there to take care of them. “They have to come to Hawaii,” he muttered to himself as he walked over to the nurse’s station.
“Excuse me,” he said in German. “We’re still waiting for an update on my mother, Joan Rosequist?”
The nurse gave him a friendly smile and searched through the charts on the desk in front of her. “Doctor Osbourne got called into emergency surgery,” she said in accented English. “Let me see if there’s someone else who can go over the test results with you.”
Jasper nodded, not sure what else to do besides lunge for the file, grab it, and start running.
Another hour passed before someone poked their head into the room. “Joan Rosequist?” The man wore a long, white coat like doctors in the movies.
Jasper stood quickly and said, “Yes,” energy suddenly rushing through his veins. “I’m her son, Jasper Rosequist.” He indicated his father. “Her husband, Harold.”
“I’m Doctor Tony.” He shook all of their hands, the folder tucked under his arm making Jasper jumpy. He finally stood beside Jasper’s mom and looked down at her. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. It’s good you have your family here with you.” He looked at Jasper and then his father.
“I’m sorry to say that the blood work we’ve done has not shown us anything. Your PET and MRI scans are inconclusive. But as a leading neurologist, it’s my belief that you have Parkinson’s Disease.”
A low wail started in Jasper’s ears. “But you don’t know for sure,” he said, his voice belonging to someone or something outside his body.
“Parkinson’s is very difficult to diagnose,” Doctor Tony agreed. “So I’d like to put you on a drug specifically for Parkinson’s and see if there’s improvement. Often, when there is significant improvement on the medication, that can be basis for a sure diagnosis.”
His mother looked up at Jasper, tears glinting in her eyes and the most childlike expression on her face he’d ever seen. “What’s he saying, Jaspy?” She hadn’t called him by his boyhood nickname since he was twelve and insisted she stop since the older boys at school had started teasing him about it.
“He’s saying he’s going to give you some medicine so you’ll get better, Mom.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it tight. “Okay?” He nodded at the doctor. “Let’s try the medication.”
By the time he returned to the cottage and got his father properly tea’d up and in bed, Jasper’s exhaustion had reached an all-time high. Or low. Or whatever. He could barely think, but there was so much to do.
He’d been working shortened hours during the day, drinking coffee just after noon, and heading to the hospital for afternoons and evenings.
Desperation surged up his throat and hot tears pricked his eyes. While he was going to wait to see if the Parkinson’s medication helped, he felt certain his mother had the debilitating neurological disease.
He hadn’t had the heart to bring up moving to Hawaii after he and his father had left the hospital. His dad had looked so…broken, and Jasper had never seen him like that.
“I’ll ask him in the morning,” he told himself as he changed into gym shorts and a T-shirt. He really wanted to talk to Sasha, but it was almost noon in Hawaii, and she’d surely be busy with the lunch crowd who wanted drinks to take to the beach.
Dominique’s name and picture came up on the screen, and Jasper tossed the phone to the bedside table in the guest bedroom where he’d been staying. The woman had impeccable timing, and he couldn’t deal with her right now. Couldn’t deal with anything right now.
Just focus on what’s in front of you, he thought, something his parents had taught him growing up and into adulthood as his dad trained him in the dealings of the diamond mines.
And right now, what was in front of him was a good night’s sleep. He wouldn’t be much good to anyone if he was a zombie, so he got in bed and forced himself to sleep.
His phone rang sometime later. Odd, was his first thought, as he kept the phone on silent in the house. But it certainly wasn’t quiet now as another peal rent the air.
He sat up and scrambled to find the device on the bedside table. The deep darkness surrounding him should’ve told him it was an emergency and he should answer it straightaway, but he still checked the screen to see who was calling.
“Sasha,” he breathed out as he answered the call. “Hey.”
“Hey?” The anger in the word soared across the space between them. “Hey, yourself, Schätzchenli.”
Confusion swept through Jasper. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It said Sasha’s name, but he’d never heard her speak like that. When he put the device back to his ear, she was already talking.
“…go back over there just to be with her? You should’ve just told me. I don’t need your pity, and I certainly don’t want to be lied to.”
“What?” he asked, unsure of what in the world she was talking about.
“Is she there right now? Is that why you’re not saying anything?” She gave a mirthl
ess laugh. “It’s two-thirty in the morning, Jasper.”
“Is who here?”
“Dom-i-nique.” She clipped out each syllable separately.
“Sasha, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure that’s convenient for you.”
Jasper exhaled and hung his head, still utterly confused but too tired to have this conversation. When he’d seen her name, he’d thought she’d be the one person in the world to give him the comfort and support he so desperately needed.
“I’ll text you.” She hung up before he could even think of a response. He stared at the now-black device, his eyes adjusting back to the darkness everywhere. It took a few minutes for his phone to brighten again, and when it did, the message was two words and a picture that started to download.
The words: We’re through.
His heart ricocheted around inside his chest. “We’re through?” he echoed, wondering how this day could get any worse.
Oh, but it could, because when the picture came up, his own blood boiled at the shot of him and Dominique on her social media feed. At first he was sure it was an old post, but then, when would he have spent any time with her at all?
He’d only met her the last time he’d come to Switzerland—and she was wearing that ridiculous pink dress she’d worn to their first meeting.
He practically punched the call button next to Sasha’s name at the top of the screen. The call rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up.
“Look,” he said, his voice almost a bark. “That picture is from the first time I came to Switzerland. I’ve only seen Dominique once in the last six days, and we had glass between us while I passed her a folder at the bank. I swear. Please call me back.”
He hadn’t screwed this up. That picture wasn’t his fault. And while he wasn’t Dominique’s Schätzchenli—treasure—he’d hoped he was Sasha’s.