My name. She says my name.
“You won the war in the Ridge. And as your wife, I’ll be there to support you. If I can do it, so can you.”
Not another word spills from her lips as she walks past me and I hear her heels walk down the stairs. Her perfume still lingers in her wake, and I just stand there, breathing it in. Pretending that if I reach out my arm, I can grab her, pull her to my chest and press my lips to hers. But when her scent finally disperses, I’m left with only the memory of her.
Dove
We ride to the White House in silence. But I can feel him next to me… restless, frustrated, and annoyed. He wants to tell me things, but I won’t listen—not when I know exactly what he has to say. That he had no choice, that my life was more important than anything, that he couldn’t live without me. And I… I understand, but I can’t accept that. So I keep putting off the talk for as long as it takes to come to terms with everything that happened over the past few weeks.
When we arrive, he gets out first and extends his hand toward me. It’s the first intentional touch we’ve had in weeks, because I haven’t allowed it so far. He probably thinks I’m punishing him, but honestly, I can barely be around him, and that’s mostly why I’ve stayed away. The pain of knowing I could’ve lost him—that I could still lose him atanypoint because of his impulsive nature and the secrets he keeps—hits me like a goddamn hurricane. And right now, I have no idea how to deal with the fact. Maybe this will show him… show him how wrong he was to do what he did. A small part of me tells me he might. But the rest? It tells me he’ll never change.
I suck in a breath and give him my hand. He squeezes it lightly, pulling me out of the car, and I know we both relish this small moment of connection, losing ourselves a little in the gentle touch. He guides me inside the building, and I put on my smile—for him, and for everyone who comes and greets us. The Secretary of State, the Chief of Staff, and other people working here that I don’t recognize. Then we’re in the State Dining Room, where both Cam and Maddox welcome us.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She leans in, giving me a soft embrace that smells like amber and cashmeran. I pin her down with my stare, expecting to see some horror in her eyes from what she had to do last month, but only a peaceful glance meets me. She seems rested—amused, even.
Good.
The president’s hand extends forward, taking mine. “Welcome. I’m glad you could come,” he says, and I don’t fail to notice the change in his tone at the last words. As if he knows Rowan would’ve declined the invitation if I hadn’t felt like coming tonight.
“We wouldn’t have missed it,” I say, reminding him that my inner turmoil doesn’t cancel out the love and respect I still have for my husband.
Myhusband. He married me without my knowledge, as I later found out. The wedding would’ve been… just a formality. Just a way to announce it to the world.
We walk into the ballroom, my arm entwined with his, and I feel naked, exposed, with so many eyes on us. I keep my chin up and smile as I grip Rowan tighter, both for strength and for show.
“I love you, angel,” he says, tilting his head toward mine. “With all my heart.”
I swallow hard, fighting back tears at the sound of his voice saying the words.
I love you too, you goddamn bastard.
Familiar faces come into view, and a twinkle of relief blossoms in my aching heart. I’ll take any chance to avoid my pain, and the way I’m constantly searching for the server with drinks proves it.
“Mr. and Mrs. Gutenberg,” I say sweetly. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Smile, and laugh, and don’t let them see how brokenhearted you are.
Mrs. Gutenberg analyzes me from head to toe, but I get the feeling it’s not because she wants to take in my attire. She doesn’t seem to be interested in stuff like that.
“Congratulations,” she says, raising her glass of champagne toward us. “For the war.” She looks at Rowan. “And for freeing this country.” She turns to me.
“Quite impressive. The news took everyone by surprise. And what about Aleander? Isn’t he going to take over now that Salister is gone?” Mr. Gutenberg asks.
Rowan answers, “Cole hunted him down. He’s dead. As is the next successor, and the next one after that. The EFW is done for, or at least… in the form we’ve known so far.”
“My brother has decided to go back,” I explain, refraining from showing my true feelings about his decision. Their eyes widen slightly at the sound of it. “The people there trust him, and it’s better than them organizing themselves into a group again with their old ideologies. The EFW can be an asset to the American government under his leadership.”
Mrs. Gutenberg hums. “Fascinating. Really well done. I look forward to seeing it play out. I’m sorry it ruined your wedding, though.” Her tone is soft, regretful. I swallow and nod in response, not knowing what to say. “Would you mind if I borrowed your husband for a dance? I’m dying to hear more about winning the war for thesecondtime.”
Rowan turns his face to me, probably looking for any sign of disapproval in my gestures. But I simply smile as I say, “Of course, though I worry he might out-dance you just to prove he’s fully recovered now.”
She laughs, grabbing my husband’s arm. “Come then, Commander. Tell me more about…”
My attention drifts from her words as my hand slides off of Rowan’s other arm. He smiles my way, and of course I return it before they both disappear into the crowd. I miss him evenwhen he’s in the room with me. I never want to feel that utter desolation again. I never want to find out that he’s gone again.
“You’ll have to excuse me, Senator,” I tell Mr. Gutenberg. “I need a few minutes to freshen up.”
He nods in understanding, and I breathe out, making my way to the nearest server. I pick up a glass of champagne, then retreat away from the crowd. Anxiety roils in my stomach, and I’m not sure why. The classical music should soothe me, but it only reinforces the pressing sadness washing over me. I down my drink in two big gulps, knowing full well it will mess up my head.
