Jasmine's POV
The weekend arrived with all the inevitability of a storm I'd been watching gather on the horizon.
Standing at my bedroom window, I watched Jayden's sleek car glide into our driveway. My pulse hammered against my ribs, but this time it wasn't anticipation coursing through my veins. It was pure, nauseating guilt. My fingers worked nervously at the fabric of my sweater while I chewed the inside of my cheek raw, dread spreading through my chest like frost.
I snatched my overnight bag and slipped outside before I could lose my nerve. Jayden sat rigid behind the wheel, his knuckles white where they gripped the leather, his jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth. He stared straight ahead as if our house, as if I, had become something too painful to acknowledge.
The passenger door felt heavier than usual as I eased it shut behind me, careful not to make a sound.
"Hey," I breathed, the word barely escaping my lips.
