Every syllable fell like a stone. "Why do you assume that an apology entitles you to my forgiveness? Why do you take it for granted that I still want to marry you? Why, after you destroyed everything, do you have the nerve to stand in front of me?"
"So tell me, Jasper. Why?"
His mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Hilda turned and walked away, but for reasons she couldn't fathom, Jasper followed, trailing her like a shadow that refused to detach.
"I never realized the great Jasper Fairmont was this shameless. Or maybe I wasn't clear enough. Which word didn't you understand?"
His voice was raw with grief. "Hilda, please don't talk to me like that."
"I'm begging you. Don't speak to me this way. I can't take it."
In every memory he had of her, Hilda had always spoken to him softly, gently. In all their years together, she had been the one to back down after every argument. He simply could not absorb the distance between who she'd been and who stood before him now.
He wanted to keep trying, but his phone buzzed in his pocket.
He had no choice but to stop. He looked at Hilda with an expression that was equal parts desperate and pleading.
"I'll make this right. I mean it, Hilda. Wait for me."