Free Compassion by Xavier Neal Page A

should wait in the car.”
     
    “Why?”
     
    Her ignorance really is bliss isn't it?
     
    My eyes give another glance to a woman passing by, her voice halting on her call as she spots me.
     
    “Hey,” Jaye snaps relocating my attention. “If you wanna wait in the car because you're uncomfortable, fine. But don't think for one minute I care about any of the looks coming our way.”
     
    Shocked I lift my eyebrows.
     
    “Now are you coming with me to grab apples or not?”
     
    With a smirk I state, “Green. Not red.”
     
    “Right?” She nudges me before pushing the cart.
     
    I give her another look still surprised she can ignore all the glares and sneers.
     
    Every time I feel I've got this girl pegged, I'm fucking wrong. She may look the part of the bitchy upper class but seems to have thrown the script away. Makes me wonder...why? What broke her to make her so different? No way she was just born this way.
     
    We arrive next to the apples and she prepares to grab a bag when I stop her. “You really should grab them individually. Make sure you get the best ones.”
     
    “'Hm,” she hums softly. “Never gave it much thought. I just...I always just grabbed the bag because Chris liked the brand. That and I hate grocery shopping alone, so it made the whole thing go faster.”
     
    Pushing past my growing distaste of his name, I snatch one of the plastic bags you fill yourself. “Grab the ones you want. I don't mind if it takes time. We've got plenty.”
     
    The way her eyes light up pulls me further down the rabbit hole of false illusion I know I'm descending into.
     
    When I hit the bottom it's gonna break my fucking neck but look at her. Resist her for a day and we'll talk.
     
    After Jaye grabs six apples, ties the bag, and puts them in the basket, she moves to push, which is the moment I ask, “Do you mind if I push it?”
     
    She ushers a hand. “Not at all.”
     
    Our shopping trip is slow yet steady. To my surprise, I forget about the looks of disgust and the whispers as I get lost in the laughs we share over favorite late night snacks and childhood cereals.
     
    Abruptly, I stop her from putting a box in the cart. “Wait. Let me ask you something. Why do you keep grabbing foods you don't like or don't love? Why do you do that to yourself?”
     
    “Well Chris-”
     
    “Isn't here,” I quickly blurt insensitively. “And he's not coming back.”
     
    Shit. I could've used better phrasing. People skills are fucking hard. Stop taking your own for granted.
     
    Jaye's mouth opens but her voice seems muted.
     
    Guilt grows until I reach for the box to put it in. “That was...wrong of me. I'm sorry. Let's just-”
     
    “No.” She yanks it back to her chest. “You're....right.” The pause is drawn out yet brings her to say, “I still do a lot of things because that's the way I've always done them. It was never about what I wanted or liked, but what he wanted and made him happy. It seemed easier to let him have whatever than to argue unnecessarily. But he's gone. He's been gone and I guess I just kept the routine because there was no real reason to change. To do...anything different.”
     
    “Maybe you figured if you started doing shit differently you'd lose the last of him you had left.”
     
    Jaye's head tilts at me.
     
    Fuck. Wrong again.
     
    Shaking my head I deny, “I shouldn't have said that.”
     
    “Maybe not,” she whispers. “Doesn't mean you're wrong though.” Our eyes meet momentarily before she puts the box back on the shelf. “Let's get this one. It's full of sugar!” With a new box in her clutches she smiles up at me. “That okay with you?”
     
    “If that's what you want, it works for me.”
     
    “I do,” the words are gentle. “That's exactly...what I want.”
     
    Are we talking about cereal still? We better be talking about cereal because anything else...anything else isn't even a fucking option even if having her naked in my lap is a constant thought.