POV: Jasmine
"No. I'm not!" she said quickly, too quickly. "It's just... maybe he's just the type that takes time to open up. Maybe he doesn't know how to have those kinds of conversations yet. Not everyone is good at this dating thing, Jasmine. I know this man, and I am not surprised if this is truly how he is."
I stared at her with a sinking heart. She believed that. She was forcing herself to believe it.
Who the hell was this man anyway? And how did he worm himself into my friend's heart so much that she was making up excuses for him in this manner?
"Celia," I said gently reaching across the table to take her hand, "you don't have to do this. If he made you feel like this, if he made you feel unseen, unheard, like you weren't even there, why the hell are you defending him?"
She swallowed, her fingers twitching beneath mine. She was so close to admitting the truth about how she felt, about how much it hurt.
