Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
A deep swallow disturbs the elegant line of her throat. Her shoulder tenses against mine. “Wow,” she says with a stiff smile. “Did I miss the proposal?”
I lift her chin, locking our eyes and holding my breath. “Will you marry me, Lennix?”
Her eyes widen, and she snatches her hand away like I burned her. My palm feels cold as soon as she does it. She traps her bottom lip between her teeth and looks away, twisting her fingers into a knot in her lap. The silence following my question—the first time I’ve ever asked that question—is deafening. Slowly, the chatter and laughter of the team up front filter into my senses. Ironically, it’s as the interstate flashes by through the bus window, the traffic and landscape blurring, that it becomes painfully clear.
“Are you…turning me down?” I force myself to ask. “Is this a no?”
She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips tightly together, looking like she wants to be anywhere but here with me right now. It’s an ice pick slicing between my ribs. How did I miss that Lennix does not actually want to marry me?
“I love you,” she finally says, her voice cracking. “But—”
“But you don’t want to marry me?” I ask, forgetting to whisper.
“Shh.” She stretches her eyes and tips her head toward the front of the bus. “I didn’t say that. You know I want to marry you.”
“Then what the hell? Why is this awkward? Why haven’t you said yes? I asked you the most important question I’ve ever asked anyone in my life, and I get this.”
“Let me finish. I want to marry you, but I’m not sure…” Her glance slides away, and she closes her eyes again. “I’m not sure I want to be the first lady.”
“What?” The word explodes from my mouth, and I don’t give a damn who hears.
“Maxim,” she hisses. “You have to lower your voice.”
“What kind of trap is this?” I whisper hotly. “You practically forced me to run for president—”
“I did not. You want this, and you know it.”
“Yes, I want it, but I wouldn’t have risked your safety for it if you hadn’t been so adamant, and I for damn sure wouldn’t have done it if you’d told me you wouldn’t fucking marry me if I won.”
“I didn’t…” She huffs a quick breath. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think in those terms.”
“In the terms of I won’t marry the man I supposedly love if he gets elected, so I think I’ll get him elected?”
She reaches up, holds my face between her hands, and the contact feels so right, so us, that I lean into her palm, savor her touch, even in the middle of this fight.
“I know without a shadow of doubt that you’re right for this country,” she says, tears welling in her eyes. “But I’m not sure being first lady is right for me, Maxim.”
Her hands drop from my face, and she swipes at a tear.
“I’ve worked my whole life for what I have, for who I am. I love campaigning. I love the fulfillment of putting leaders in power who will look out for the most vulnerable.”
“You can still have impact as first lady. Of course you can.”
“I didn’t work this hard and this long,” she says, some of her usual fierceness rearing, “to be the national plus one.”
“The national plus one? Would you stop thinking about people’s perceptions and expectations and just think about us? How does this play out? If I win you’re the first girlfriend for four years?”
“Eight. You won’t be a one-term president. Not on my watch.”
“And kids? According to your plan, I’d be forty-eight when I left office. You’d be forty-one. You want to wait that long to start our family? Or maybe we won’t wait for marriage and I’ll be the first baby daddy in the Oval. I’m unconventional but not that unconventional.”
I take her chin between my fingers gently until she meets my eyes. “I want a family with you. I want a life with you. Are you saying if I become president I won’t have that?”
“I’m saying I’m not sure what’s best for me, but I know you’re best for America.”
I drop her chin. “That’s not an answer.”
“Do I give up everything I’m supposed to do so that you can do what you’re supposed to do? I know that sounds bad, but I’m trying to work through the implications of actual marriage if you win. Giving up my career, my causes to be first lady… It’s just not what I signed up for, and I—”
“You signed up for me,” I say, wanting to shout but keeping my voice low. “And I signed up for you, whatever that means, wherever that takes us.”
“Easy to say when ‘whatever’ is you becoming the leader of the free world and me smiling and looking pretty for a ‘say no to drugs’ campaign or advocating for literacy. It’s not what I want to do. That’s not who I want to be. Don’t ask me to know everything today. We had to move quickly. I just need some time to wrestle through this, Maxim.”