“Is…is she serious?”
I cup his face in my hands and stare into his eyes, waiting until his gaze settles on me. “Yes, she is. You can be VP for eight years, and then she’ll campaign for you for your run. This is a serious offer. This is a chance for you to reach out and grab what you’ve wanted.” I hate saying that. Haaaate it. “But it’s also something you and I need to talk about.”
“What about us?”
Forcing back my fears and my tears, I plunge forward. “There’s still anusno matter what. But I want to pro-con all the options this weekend. I want you to keep an open mind. You aren’t locked into any given answer right now.”
His eyes suddenly go too bright and he’s blinking back tears. “Tell me what to do, Master,” he pleads.
“Oh, pet.” I pull him in for a strong hug. The way he’s holding me feels like he’s drowning. “I can’t tell you what to do. You know that. Iwillhelp you sort through the options, but it has to beyourdecision. This is something I cannot and will not decide for you.”
“If you could,” he mumbles against my shoulder, “what would you say? If I gave you control of this and asked you to please make the decision for me?”
I hate myself for not taking the easy out and deciding for him right this second. “I won’t take that choice from you, pet. No matter what choice you make, I will still be by your side, visibly or not. I will wait for you, no matter what. And I will still love you just as much, no matter what.”
Elliot gives up trying to hold back his tears and I comfort him as he cries. “I don’t know what to do!”
“I know, pet.” Unfortunately, I already know what his answer will be come Monday morning. He will accept her offer, meaning anywhere from eight to sixteen years of more secrecy for us, after the campaign. Provided that she wins.
I have no doubts that she will win. Meaning I lose my boyfriend.
And I know that I will wait for him, because I have no other choice.
I love him, and he’s mine, and I will never walk away from him because he owns my heart every bit as much as I own him.
Which is why it hurts so fucking much.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Now
It is a long-ass day, but we slog through events while I’m mentally murdering Elliot’s chief of staff for allowing such a strenuous schedule in the first place. He damn well knows better.
I have a feeling the dark glares I’ve shot him and the barely constrained anger in my tone every time we discuss the itinerary are getting my point across.
At least, I hope they are.
Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do right now except help Elliot soldier through it.
Elliot knows my family’s coming over for dinner tonight and that I want him to spend at least a little time interacting with them. Unfortunately, there’s not enough time for me to give him a shower before they arrive—which I know sounds weird. He’s not a Labradoodle.
Except, yeah, in a way, he is.
Heabsolutelyis my pet.
A couple of staffers, including his chief of staff, follow us back to the suite to handle a few more items before I shoo them away for the night. They have to put up with me, but they understand my presence makes their jobs easier in the long run.
Iamthe Elliot whisperer, after all.
I’ve just gotten rid of them when his detail notifies me that my parents and sister have arrived at the hotel, made it through security, and are on their way up.
I grab Elliot’s hands and squeeze. “You’ll eat some dinner for me and sit and chat at least for a little while. All right? They won’t be here late. You need to spend time around normal people. You’re too isolated.”
He nods and I feel guilty about how weary he looks as he removes his blazer. “Yes, Sir.” He ditched his contacts earlier today. While his glasses make him look so damned sexy that I want to tackle him, right now, it only emphasizes his exhaustion.
Physician, heal thyself.Ever since Jordan’s departure, I’ve isolated myself outside of work because I didn’t want to expend the energy topeople. Which has indirectly hurt Elliot, because I withdrew from him as a result.
I need to do a better job as his owner.
