32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Patrick
This was the worst day of my life and I couldn’t escape. Matteo, Robby, and Lucas rushed me, asking how to help. I shook my head. I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Noah pulling Marcy away. My heart crashed again. Marcy looked stunned.
I couldn’t blame her. She’d attempted to actually marry me, knowing it wasn’t what she’d wanted, then I’d accused her of only wanting inheritance money, and tried to run away from her. I shouldn’t have ever believed she might want to marry me for real. Who was I kidding?
Hudson came over and tugged Lucas’ sleeve. “Noah practically shoved me out of the way. She’s mad that we went along with the surprise, but we didn’t know Nonna Russo was planning a real wedding!”
“I have no idea what my nonna was thinking,” Lucas said. “This is all so messed up.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry. I should have been around more. Maybe we could have stopped this.”
“You’re not really breaking up, are you?” Robby asked. “You love my sister. ”
I did. I loved her so much. “She doesn’t want to be with me. Not really.”
“Did she break up with you?” Matteo asked. Threat laced his words. If she didn’t, and I’d broken her heart, he’d let me have it. And I deserved it.
“She said it’s over.”
Every one of them talked at once. I held up a hand. “I can’t do this right now. I’m going to take off.”
It wasn’t lost on me I had an entourage close at my heels. I didn’t get far, anyway. My parents stood at the door.
My father moved into my path immediately. “You did the right thing. Maybe you can be done with this family once and for all.”
Be done with the Russos. There was a thought. What would happen next? How did I hang out with the guys without being reminded of Marcy every single second? All the holidays and parties they invited me to, did I just stop going?
I wanted to throw up. I had to let Marcy go. It was the only way. But I hated this. I didn’t want the Russos out of my life. Not one bit. But this was my new reality.
“I know that girl said she has inheritance money, but you dodged a bullet, son. She’s a gold digger who would have drained you dry.”
My father’s words snapped me awake. I looked him in the eye. “Don’t ever talk about Marcy that way. Ever. In fact, don’t talk to me at all.”
“Patrick.” My mother grasped my arm. “We just want what’s best for you.”
“So you went behind my back to make a deal with the casino?”
“You have a great opportunity,” my father said. “We were only laying the groundwork.”
I yanked free from my mother. “Both of you should be ashamed. And I mean it about Marcy. Never say her name to me again.”
I walked out of the ballroom and into the unknown.
The next day, I released a statement on all the campaign accounts that I hadn’t been engaged to Marcy at the start of the campaign. That I’d done it for the optics of looking like a better candidate. That we’d applied for a marriage license in haste, and thought it best to call the whole thing off.
I didn’t consult my mother about the statement. She was no longer my campaign manager.
I wasn’t even sure I still had a campaign. The staff my parents hired would probably quit. The people who planned to vote for me probably wouldn’t now. Who would vote for a guy with such a disastrous personal life? Okay, we were taking politics here, the land of PR nightmares. But I assumed I’d be different. I’d run on that concept.
Coming clean was the right move, even if it sunk my campaign. Typing those words, that we’d called off the engagement, felt so final. Calling off the engagement had ended my relationship with Marcy. For good.
We loved each other. I wanted that to be enough. But I’d always doubt whether she wanted to be with me, knowing she didn’t want to follow the path her family insisted on. What if she woke up one day and regretted marrying me? I couldn’t let her fall into that trap. I would just have to get over her. Somehow. Someday.
Intentionally ignoring repeated calls from my mother and texts from the guys, I checked in on comments to the campaign announcement.
With all the new followers I’d gained on socials, dozens of comments appeared within the hour. Commenters called us brave for coming forward, citing how family and societal pressure pushed couples toward marriage when they weren’t ready. They shared their own personal stories. Several applauded my honesty, noting it was rare in a political race. A few others called me a liar.
I switched to another social platform with even more comments.
You looked so happy! Are you sure you want to break up?
You let her go? Can I get her number?
Such a shame. You two were a cute couple.
I set my phone aside. It was a shame. I felt all of the shame, intensely.