“Don’t be sorry. I’ve never been sorry for protecting you from the harshness of this world for as long as I could. I’ve never been sorry for choosing you or staying by your side. I love you, Darcy.”
I blink tears away and hug her tightly one more time.
“Darcy! Darcy, look! Buzz News Network just called North and South Carolina for you.” Hayden squeals, jumping and clapping while barreling toward me. Mom steps away and my arms catch Hayden just as she pounces in my direction. Claps surround us asI spin my wife in a celebratory circle. She places her lips to my ear and a rippling shudder runs down my spine. “I have a good feeling about tonight.”
“Mm, so do I,” I whisper back, pressing my hand against her back as I set her on her feet. She looks at me, catches sight of my smirk and lazy eyes, and then blushes.
“Darcy, goodness. About the election, I mean.”
I chuckle. “That’s what I meant, too. And alsoafterthe election.” I wink, then place a kiss on her forehead. She giggles and rolls her eyes before turning away and heading back to Paul and the computer screens.
The door to the viewing room swings open, and Stella Harper walks through wearing a red version of the dress my wife is wearing. Objectively, she looks great, but my wife definitely wears it better.
I can’t quit thinking and saying those words: my wife. I knew I would get married someday, but I always thought it would be a union like the one we started out with—one of convenience. Never had I dreamed I would become a simp (that’s what the kids at the group home say?) for my wife. As I watch Hayden and Stella embrace, the smile on Hayden’s face growing wider with each passing moment, and her laughter ringing out through the room, I know I would do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her face.
I would be that morally gray hero who brought a city to ruins for her.
“Look, Darcy! Stella made it.” Hayden yells from across the room. Stella waves, and I wave. Analyzing Stella for a moment, I conclude she looks happy. I often wondered if moving toMississippi took a toll on her; she thrived in city life. She used to talk about how much she missed home but always had an excuse as to why she couldn’t return.
Walking over to the women, and Paul, I ask Stella if Lucas came tonight.
“No, he needed to stay behind. His friend, Jared, went and broke his leg again in a wrestling match. His wife, Gracie, is about to pop out their baby, so he went to be of assistance. I tried, but Gracie told me that I needed to be here and that they have enough help to finish last-minute house things before the baby comes.”
Hayden wraps an arm around Stella’s waist, and Stella leans her head on Hayden’s shoulder. I wish the two of them had more time to spend in person. They were inseparable when Stella lived here in New York, always sneaking around this house and whispering in corners. Speaking of…
“Where are you staying tonight?” I ask.
“I got a hotel not too far from here. I didn’t have time to check in as I wanted to come straight here, though.”
“Why don’t you cancel the reservation and stay here tonight? I can give my wife up for a singular night.” As I say the words, I remember that only moments ago I was teasing Hayden aboutafter the election,and I instantly regret giving her up.
Stella raises her eyebrows, but then her red lips stretch into a smile. “I’d love to stay. I promise I’ll only steal her away for a little while. I’ll send her back to you for bedtime.” She winks, and I feel heat creep up my neck. I’ll never get over Stella’s emboldened spirit to say whatever is on her mind regardless of propriety.
“Oh, I’m so happy,” Hayden exclaims, hugging Stella and then dragging me to her side. Marcus and Priscilla join us, and Hayden’s smile somehow grows as she says, “All of my favorite people are here. Oh,” she waves my mom over. “Ruth! Come join.”
Mom walks over, greets Stella, and then joins this little hug group. Every fiber of my being longs to get out of this, but again, I’d do anything to keep that smile on Hayden’s face. Then again… this is nice. We are just missing—
“Ren!” Hayden shouts as if she was reading my mind. “You made it.”
I slowly turn my head to see Ren, and his expression is nothing less than I’d expect. His cheeks are swollen with all the laughter he is holding, his face going red. One hand clutches his stomach while the other rises to cover his mouth as air shoots out followed by uncontained laughter. “This is a sight to behold,” he says between cackles.
“Come join us,” Hayden shouts.
“I’m coming in.” Ren barrels toward us, his body slams into mine, causing the group hug to shift and teeter, on the verge of sending us all to the ground in a heap of limbs. Thankfully, we steady ourselves, and I take the opportunity to slide out of the huddle.
“Central time zone reports are rolling in,” Paul announces, and we all turn our attention to the screens.
The news outlets begin making calls based on combined early votes and the majority of the votes from the onset of counting, and most states, to my surprise, lean toward me over the democratic candidate, but it’s still too close for comfort. With each call forthe democratic candidate in some of the swing states, my heart sinks. I never expected to win over the democratic vote since my Independent leanings are more conservative, but now that I’ve thoroughly secured most of the Republican vote simply because of Loveless’s idiocy, I might stand a solid chance. The night started fantastic with North and South Carolina, who by this point are leading by double-digit percentages for me, but I’m going to need more than that to get the needed 270 electoral votes to win.
“Don’t give up yet, Killjoy,” Hayden says, patting my back. “The night’s not even close to over.”
Mountain time closes and then Pacific time. Finally, Alaska and Hawaii close, and all there is left to do is wait. I am ushered in and out of the viewing room, giving small interviews with the press I invited in tonight and joining in watch party activities with those who are not on my team but have given their endless support for my campaign over the past two years. States continue to slowly report, and the Midwest creates a surge in support for me. Emotions shift with every tick of the percentages from the states, rising when a state is called for me and collapsing when a state is called for the democratic candidate. I wish the country understood the stakes of this election; if the democrats win, then the budget will significantly inflate, we will continue to be involved in senseless wars across the world, immigration reform efforts will stall, and, most importantly to me and my team, the foster care system and pandemic of homelessness will not get the appropriate spotlight that they deserve because that party is too wrapped up in identity politics.
Two in the morning rolls around, and the entire team and I are chewing our nails. We are tied, waiting for Florida, Arizona, Minnesota, and Wyoming to report.
The dilemma?
Both of us would need all four states to successfully cross the 270 electoral votes threshold.
