Chapter 26 #2
“It’s complete and utter bullshit.” His voice is unwavering. “She’s trying to extort me, and I won’t pay her off because it’s a fabrication.”
“How do you know for sure?”
He shrugs. “I guess there’s no way to know if she was pregnant, but if she was, she didn’t tell me. If she had, I would’ve stepped up and taken care of the baby. I never would’ve pressured a woman to do something like that. Ever. It’s a child ...”
He stops moving, stops fiddling with his tie. His hands drop to his sides and he looks at me, his green eyes crystal clear. “I can’t lie to you. I also can’t make you believe me, but I’m telling you the truth.” His gaze softens. “I’m glad I didn’t have a child with her.”
My breath stumbles, my eyes going wide because I can read into what he says. There’s so much innuendo laced through that handful of words that I’m afraid to even touch it.
“Having kids is something I’ve never really given a lot of thought,” he says, his voice soft. “I suppose I’ve always considered I would eventually, but never in the foreseeable future.” He takes a quick breath. “Until now.”
“Why now?” I ask, afraid to both ask it and not ask it, fearing the answer either way.
“Because you’re the only person I can imagine having my child.”
“Barrett ... Don’t say that. Don’t use words like that to try to make me forget what happened. I’m not one of your constituents you can charm with a smile and baby kissing.”
He takes a step towards me, his eyes on fire. “I’m not. I mean it.”
“Why would you want to think those things about a helpless girl you have to protect?” I bite out.
“Alison, stop it.”
“No, you stop it. I feel like I’m dealing with the mayor right now with your game face and pretty words and not my ...”
The air stills as his eyes remain as steady as his tone. “Your what?”
I don’t respond. I walked head-on into this and I don’t know how to backtrack out.
“It doesn’t matter how you fill in that blank because, like you said, they’re just words,” he says. “And no word could ever fill the spot you take up in my life. So call me your boyfriend or the mayor or an asshole for what happened today, but I’m still yours, however you want to define that.”
“You don’t have to like it or like me or take me back until this election is over, if you don’t want.
” He takes a deep breath. “If that somehow proves I’m not using you, then fine.
You can humiliate me by saying that was all bullshit.
Think of what you can do to my campaign, and you know what? I won’t care.”
“You know I’d never do that to you,” I say.
He takes a small step back and hangs his head.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, more vulnerability in his tone than I’ve ever heard.
Gone is the confident man I know him to be, and in his place is a man that needs something that maybe I can give him.
The sincerity in his voice pulls at me, tugs at my heart strings.
I believe him because there’s no way, even a master politician like himself, could fake the genuineness of those words.
“I had to be separated from Nolan this morning. I was this close to losing it on him, Alison. Trust me when I tell you that is not what he was authorized to put out there, and if we weren’t this close to the election, I’d fire him.
But the reality is, we are and I’m trying to be rational, to think about the big picture. ”
Looking away from him because the hurt in his eyes is too much to see, I allow the pain of seeing the words in black and white pierce me again.
I don’t want to feel it and it would be so much easier to pretend like it never happened.
Falling into his arms, under his spell, would be head-and-shoulders more fun.
But I can’t. Because I know where that leads.
Because I promised myself I would be stronger. Because I deserve more than this.
When I look in his face, I can’t help but feel my heart break. I want to heal him, reassure him, but I can’t. Not yet. Not until I’m sure I can withstand whatever the future could hold if this doesn’t work out, because this pain? This is the tip of the iceberg if everything starts to melt.
“I know I come with a lot of ‘extras.’ I just ... I’m sorry,” he says again, the puffiness around his eyes making me wonder how much sleep he’s getting.
“I believe you.”
“You do?”
I nod, but take a step back. “I don’t think you knew about this. Not really. But you know what? It hurts all the same, Barrett.”
“I know. Let me fix it.”
A small smile creeps across my face and he doesn’t miss the sadness in the gesture. His eyes go wide, his face pale, and I think he’s going to lunge at me and hold me against him. A part of me wouldn’t object, but I don’t get the choice because he doesn’t move.
“There isn’t some magic button that can fix this,” I point out.
“I can’t take it back now. I can’t make this un-public,” he groans. “What do I fucking do? What do you want me to do?”
The lines of his face shine in the sun streaming through the window. I see every crease, every line of stress, every pinch of frustration in his handsome face. My lips want to press against the wrinkles, my hands crave to smooth out his anxiety, but I hold back.
“I want you to give me some time to think about this.”
“Why?” he says, his voice now touched with irritation. “You said you know I didn’t do this on purpose.”
“That’s true. But that doesn’t mean this didn’t just change the game for me.”
“This isn’t a fucking game,” he barks.
“No, it isn’t.” My voice stays calm as I watch him pace again.
“But it is exactly, unequivocally what I didn’t want.
It would’ve been different if the article was right, and people knew who I was and gave me space.
Now they’ll look at me like I’m pathetic, and I refuse to be made the laughingstock of another city because of a man. ”
“No one is laughing at you,” he gulps. “They’re laughing at me.”
A heavy breath leaves my lips. “The timing of this also makes me worried. Am I going to get asked about it or mocked because—”
“You better fucking not.”
We face each other, the room pushing us closer, but we both fight it. Me out of self-preservation, him out of manners. The clock on the wall ticks softly and every second we stand there feels like an hour.
His chest rises and falls, his lips falling open as his breathing quickens. His nostrils flare just a bit as he bites down and the muscle in his jaw clenches.
“I need to pick Hux up from school,” I say quietly. “He has a dentist appointment.”
“We haven’t finished talking.”
“We have to be finished for now,” I say, forcing myself to turn away from him. On some level, I’m grateful for the excuse to get away. I need to think.
“When can I see you again?”
I pick up my purse off the chair. The papers sit inches away and I make myself not look at them.
He takes a deep breath and blows it out. “If you want time to think about this, I get it. I’ll give you that.”
“I need to make sure this is something I can handle,” I gulp. “All of a sudden, this just got very real.”
His arms come around my waist from behind and I sink back into his chest. I breathe in his cologne and let it carry me away from reality for a few seconds.
“It was always real to me,” he whispers and kisses the top of my head.