(Scarlett’s POV)
Jasper's face lights up the moment he sees me, and despite everything, my heart skips a beat.
"There's my beautiful wife," he says, his voice soft and husky.
And God help me, for just a moment, I feel a familiar heat rush to my cheeks at the address.
I walk in slow, my legs heavy as lead, as if they haven’t made up their mind if I’m here to stay or if I should bolt back to the reality where Dorian is waiting.
I hold the coffee cup—a flimsy, temporary prop—like a lifeline.
He shifts in the bed, wincing slightly as he reaches out his arm. “You’re late, Letty.” The slight reprimand is so utterly Jasper, that the knot in my chest loosens a fraction.
“I brought coffee,” I reply, trying to keep my voice light, setting the cup on the side table as he grabs my wrist. “Don’
