No More Second Chances
Jasmine stood by the door long after she had slammed it shut in Luke's face.
Her fingers trembled around the doorknob, her pulse still racing.
Not because she still loved him.
No.
Because she was furious.
Furious that he thought he could just show up and that she'd fall back into his arms like nothing happened.
As if she owed him that.
She let out a slow breath and stepped away.
Enough.
She wasn't going to let him disrupt her life anymore.
Not again.
Not ever.
---
Distractions in the Form of a Judge
The next morning, Jasmine was scrolling mindlessly through her phone when a message popped up.
Asher Donovan: You survived the night, I assume?
She rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing on her lips.
Jasmine Carter: Barely.
Asher's reply was instant.
Asher Donovan: I assume this has something to do with a certain ex-fiancé knocking on your door?
Jasmine blinked.
How did he—?
She hesitated before typing back.
Jasmine Carter: Are you stalking me, Judge Donovan?
Asher Donovan: No need. Luke has that desperate, 'I-messed-up' face all over town.
Jasmine snorted.
She could picture Asher's smug face.
Jasmine Carter: And how do you know what that face looks like?
Asher Donovan: I've seen enough fools regret their decisions in court to recognize it.
Jasmine chuckled.
Jasmine Carter: Well, you're right. He showed up last night, looking for a second chance.
Asher Donovan: Tell me you didn't consider it.
Jasmine stared at the message for a long moment.
Finally, she typed back.
Jasmine Carter: I shut the door in his face.
A few seconds later, Asher replied.
Asher Donovan: Good girl.
Jasmine's stomach did an annoying little flip.
She ignored it.
---
Sisterly Warnings
Later that afternoon, Rita stormed into Jasmine's apartment, hands on her hips.
"I heard Luke came crawling back," she announced.
Jasmine sighed. "Does everyone know my business?"
"Yes," Rita said bluntly, flopping onto the couch. "You're basically a cautionary tale at this point."
Jasmine shot her a glare.
Rita grinned. "So? What did he say?"
"That he made a mistake." Jasmine crossed her arms. "As if I'm supposed to forget everything."
Rita's expression darkened. "And?"
"I told him no."
Rita's smile widened. "Damn right, you did."
Jasmine hesitated before adding, "It's weird, though."
Rita arched a brow. "What is?"
"He looked… lost. I think he finally realizes Belle was playing him."
Rita rolled her eyes. "Oh, now he gets it? Typical."
Jasmine let out a bitter laugh. "Guess karma finally caught up."
Rita nudged her. "So, now that that chapter is closed, what's the deal with you and Asher?"
Jasmine groaned. "There is no 'deal.'"
Rita smirked. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
---
The Past Refuses to Die
That evening, Jasmine curled up on the couch, trying to enjoy a movie.
But she couldn't focus.
Her mind kept drifting back to Luke.
Not because she missed him—but because she wanted him to suffer.
She wanted him to feel every ounce of pain he had put her through.
Her phone vibrated again.
Unknown Number: Jasmine, please. Just talk to me.
She deleted the message without responding.
Moments later, another message popped up.
Unknown Number: I know I don't deserve forgiveness, but I need you to know I regret everything.
Jasmine stared at the screen.
Then she blocked the number.
Because she was done.
---
A Taste of Freedom
For the first time in a long time, Jasmine felt light.
Blocking Luke's number, shutting the door in his face, choosing herself—it felt good.
Like she was finally breathing clean air after being stuck in a smoke-filled room.
Of course, there was still a small, bitter part of her that wanted him to suffer more, to really feel the weight of his choices.
But she refused to waste another second of her life on him.
She had spent too long being the woman who waited.
Now?
She was going to start living.
---
Girls' Night Out
Rita didn't give her much of a choice.
"You need to celebrate your freedom," her sister declared, dragging her into the closet. "And what better way than getting a little reckless?"
Jasmine sighed. "Define 'reckless.'"
Rita grinned, tossing a red dress onto the bed. "Short. Tight. A little sinful."
Jasmine eyed the dress. "That looks illegal."
"Perfect." Rita shoved it into her hands. "Get dressed."
Thirty minutes later, Jasmine stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of the dress.
It wasn't her.
It was bold, daring—something she wouldn't have dared to wear when she was with Luke.
But maybe that was the point.
She took a deep breath.
Tonight, she wasn't Luke's ex-fiancée.
She was just Jasmine.
And for the first time, that felt enough.
---
An Unplanned Encounter
The club was packed.
Laughter, music, flashing lights—it was chaotic, but in the best way.
Rita had disappeared to the dance floor within five minutes, leaving Jasmine at the bar with a drink in hand.
And that was when she saw him.
Asher Donovan.
Dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up, leaning against the bar like he owned the place.
Because, knowing him, he probably did.
Jasmine blinked. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Asher smirked. "What? Judges can't have fun?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You don't seem like the clubbing type."
He took a slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving hers. "And you don't seem like the reckless type. Yet here you are, in that dress."
Jasmine felt that.
The way his voice dipped slightly on 'that dress.'
But she refused to react.
Instead, she lifted her chin. "People change."
Asher's smirk deepened. "Do they?"
Jasmine rolled her eyes. "You're annoying."
"And you're avoiding something." He tilted his head. "Who dragged you here?"
Jasmine hesitated before sighing. "Rita."
Asher chuckled. "Figured."
Jasmine took a sip of her drink. "And you? Do you come here often, or should I be worried that you're following me?"
Asher leaned in slightly, voice low. "Maybe I just have good taste."
Jasmine's breath hitched—just for a second.
But Asher noticed.
His smirk was pure satisfaction.
She scowled. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely."
Jasmine shook her head, but for the first time in a long time, she was genuinely smiling.
Maybe she could actually have fun tonight.
---
Dancing with Trouble
Somewhere between her second drink and Rita pulling her onto the dance floor, Jasmine stopped thinking.
She let herself feel.
The music. The energy. The sense of freedom.
She was laughing, moving, losing herself in the beat—until she felt someone watching her.
She turned, and there he was.
Asher.
Standing by the bar, drink in hand, watching her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
Their eyes locked.
Something shifted.
A challenge.
A silent dare.
Jasmine wasn't sure what possessed her, but she smirked—and kept dancing.
And Asher?
He didn't look away.
Not once.
---