A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

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That happens with my parents too. They're always one step ahead of me.

Do they know about this?

Have they kept this from me?

"I know I should have said something sooner. To Cass. To Damon. To you. I should have said I can't stay married because I'm moving to New York City. But I couldn't."

She takes a deep breath and lets out a slow, heavy exhale.

Her voice stays steady. "You see me as this strong, defiant woman. And I am that. Sometimes. Other times, I get lost in what people expect of me. My whole life, I was the good daughter, the smart student, the one with promise. I had to live up to that. It was hard. It weighed on me. It still does. That's why I live alone. That's why I didn't keep boyfriends. I can't take the pressure of other people's need for me."

She pauses to give me space to reply.

But there's nothing I can say. She's sure. Even if she wasn't, I couldn't ask her to stay.

I couldn't ask her to put my wishes ahead of hers.

"I know you, Cass, Mom, Dad, Damon—everyone wants me here. They won't ask. They'll be happy for me," she continues. "But of course, they want me to stay. I wouldn't want the opposite. How awful would that be if everyone wanted me to leave? But I can't handle the pressure of it. I'll crumble."

She releases my hand.

A part of me releases with it. I feel the change in the energy. The effort of it. The way it hurts her too.

"I know it's cowardly to wait until the last minute, but I couldn't take the chance someone would change my mind," she says. "I'm sorry, Jackson. I can't give you the time I promised. I wasn't planning it this way, but I have to walk now or I might not be able to do it later. And that would never work. I'd hold it against you for the rest of my life."

And I'd never forgive myself for getting in the way of her dreams.

"It would rot our relationship from the inside," she says.

I nod with understanding. "Do you need help setting up in New York?"

She shakes her head. "Dad is coming with me." She looks to the big, beautiful house. "I can go back inside and play this role, but that's it."

"No. Take the car. Go wherever you need to go. I'll call someone."

"Are you sure?" she asks.

I'm not sure which part she's asking. Truthfully, I'm not sure of any of it. But, like her, I need to do this now, or I might not ever do it.

I need to release her before my temptation to hold her close overpowers me.

"Yes," I say.

"I'll get my stuff out while you're here," she says. "Give me a few hours, okay?"

"Can I see you off?" I ask.

She offers me a sad smile. "No. I don't think I'll be able to say goodbye again."

"I lo—"

"Don't say it, please. I won't be able to leave."

I nod. I pull her into my arms, I hold her close, I release her.

I go back inside and find a space to myself, the quiet of the study, and I whisper the words I've never said to anyone.

I love you, Daphne Webb.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jackson

Alexander and I talk about work for the rest of the afternoon. He doesn't buy my claim Daphne's schoolmate needed her help with a test, but he doesn't call me on it.

After lunch and two too many gin and tonics, I tell him the truth.

I don't know if I can leave my family to go to New York City.

I love her. I do.

But maybe that isn't enough.

I was wrong before. Relationships are more than commitment and compromise. Relationships need more than duty.

But they need more than love too.

Sometimes, two people fall in love, they enjoy their time together, they part on good terms.

The end.

That doesn't erase or invalidate their love.

I can love her and let her go.

It's the only thing I can do if I really love her.

Two hours later, I climb into my sister's hybrid, rest my head against the passenger side door, and watch the mansions blur into the sandy hills.

The car hums with the miserable confessions of one of Cassie's favorite artists. Someone I've never heard of. Well. Someone Cassie has gushed about a hundred times, who most people have never heard of.

It sounds so easy for her to pour her heart out.

Is it that easy?

Is it easy for anyone?

My sister eyes me with concern, but she doesn't force me to talk. Not at first.

Not until the album finishes and another starts. A different miserable woman. With a lower voice and more jazz influence.

I don't know her name either.

Cassie waits for a quiet moment in the song. "Daphne told me what happened." She does the unthinkable. She turns the volume down. "With school." Hurt drips into her voice. "I'm going to miss her."

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