(GILBERT'S POV)
The silence that followed was heavy and vast. Then Jasper spoke, his voice soft and barely audible.
"So you found out."
It wasn't a question.
"You should have told me," I said, and my voice cracked. I reached out and smacked his chest again, but there was no force behind it—just frustration and hurt and a desperate, aching need for him to understand. "Why didn't you tell me, Jasper? Why didn't you say something?"
Jasper sighed. He looked away, his jaw tightening, and for a moment, he looked older than his six hundred and fifty-six years. He looked tired. Worn.
"I tried," he said quietly. "When you came out of the room feeling all guilty, I tried to tell you. But then you told me about Ethan. You told me you were in love with someone else. That you had loved him for eight hundred years. And I..." He swallowed hard. "I couldn't do it, Gilbert. I couldn't tell you that I was your mate when you already had someone else in your heart."
