49

"Oh, fucking bullshit." I couldn't even help myself, nor did I care. The two men glanced at me, shared a look, and then returned back to their beers. Jonathan Calamari was the only one who had cleared himself of any wrongdoings, but privilege and money spoke louder then video recordings apparently.

A reporter off the camera shot him a question. "And how do you feel about Senator Marco's indictment, Mr. Calamari?"

Jonathan nodded, pretending to take this question seriously, when in reality, I knew that behind that mask of his, he was grinning from ear to ear. "I feel like justice is due where justice is due," Jonathan said. "After Senator Marco informed me of his plan to attempt voter fraud, I reported this to my closest confidants. We were unsure if Marco was playing a joke or not, so we were waiting to have proof before going to the authorities."

"And the accusations that you were partaking in drugs with Senator Marco that night? Or that you were cheating on your wife with a prostitute?"

His eyes narrowed. "As I've said before, I have no comments on either of those topics other than to say that my wife and I are in counseling, and I am taking daily drug tests up until the election.

"So it's true? You're still going to run for President?"

"Yes, it is true," Jonathan smiled and looked directly into the camera. "And before that, I intend to find the person or people responsible for releasing this video to the public, as I do believe that is a crime that will come with harsh penalties."

I locked eyes with Jonathan Calamari on the screen. That was a threat. And a heavy one at that. One directed not only at me, but also at Lorenzo.

My phone buzzed on the bar, and I flipped it over, opening a text from an unknown number.

O, figured this may come in handy to fuck that fucker once and for all. Your favorite, Q.

My heart skipped. Grabbing the phone, I clicked the link. It was connected to a locked folder, one for which I would need to use my computer to hack into. Holy shit. My favorite, Q. And a locked folder?

The text was from Quinton, I knew it without a doubt. Suddenly, I remembered that Quinton had hated Jonathan for a long time, that he had shit on the mayor even before this. What was in this folder? Would it be enough to take him down?

I fucking hoped so.

Wiping my face with a napkin, I glanced at the server. "Check, please."

Emerging onto the quiet downtown street, my heart was pounding. I couldn't get back to my apartment fast enough. My computer was the one thing I'd brought with me, the one thing I could use to overthrow Jonathan for good.

I'd made it half a block when the hair on the back of my arms stood on end. I glanced behind me and watched as a black SUV braked, and then turned a corner. Was I imagining this? Or I had seen that car before?

I was probably just overthinking this, imagining something that wasn't there. But I couldn't shake the look on Jonathan's face in that video. All this time, I thought he'd been focused on an upcoming trial. What if the opposite had been true? What if he'd known all along he was going to get off, and he was out for vengeance, determined to find the perpetrators behind the video?

Oh, God. What if that's why Lorenzo hadn't been at lunch with Alistair and Cecilia? What if something had happened to him...and I was next?

I picked up my pace, walking faster. And just as I neared the intersection that led to my rental, a man stepped from around the corner.

"Hey, Ophelia."

LORENZO

Only a month had passed, but it felt like so much longer. There were purple circles under her eyes, and she looked like she'd lost some weight, but Ophelia still looked incredible. I wanted nothing more than to hug her, to hold her.

"Lorenzo?" she gasped, gripping her chest.

I'd clearly startled her, appearing on the edge of the street corner like this, but I wasn't sure how else I could have done it.

"Hi," I said. Hi? Didn't I have anything better to say? I'd spent time and money on a private investigator to track her to this beach side Connecticut town, and I couldn't say more than hi? What the fuck was wrong with me?

"What are you doing here? I mean...how did you find me?"

I shrugged. "Ophelia, I fucked up. So bad." The corner we were standing on was busy enough that a few people who had heard me curse stopped and stared. But all my fucks went out of the window the day I discovered she'd taken a bus to another city by herself. She was lost, struggling to find herself, all because of what I'd said. I needed to make it clear that, this time, I wasn't going anywhere. "You weren't answering my calls, and I didn't know what else to do. So I hired a private investigator."

Ophelia's cheeks flushed red. She glanced sideways around the street. It was clear that more than one person was listening now. In fact, was I imagining this, or was a couple on the corner pausing to take a photo of us?

Stepping toward me, Ophelia lowered her voice to a whisper. "Lorenzo, this town is too small and too nosy for you to making a scene. C'mon." She strode past me down the street.

"Where are we going?"

I couldn't tell if she was annoyed, but as she turned around and started walking backward, she gave me a small smile. "Just come with me."

The downhill single lane road curved out of the quaint downtown and weaved past a modest playground. There wasn't even a sidewalk, but I followed Ophelia, walking in a single file as we hugged the tree line off the street and hooked a left onto a dead end, a peninsula surrounded on three side by the Atlantic.

Ophelia approached a cottage at the end of the street. It had a For Sale sign out front, but she bypassed it, crossing the driveway and opening a gate at the side of the house.

"Are you squatting in a house?" My attempt at a joke resulted in her rolling her eyes.

"They rented me the guest suite out back. At a discount, if I keep an eye on the main house." She glanced back at me. "But maybe I'm just being cheap...since you know...you gave me fifty grand, and it's not like I really need to get discounts."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I stayed silent as she led me to the dock and opened the sliding doors, leading into a quaint in-law guest suite.

She avoided my gaze, pursing her lips as she crossed her arms."How's Cecilia?"

Where would I start? I wanted to tell her everything. That I'd taught Cecilia how to ride a bike. That I read her stories at night. That in one month of being a single dad, I'd experienced enough stress and worries and concern that I had no fucking idea how she'd done this for an entire ten years.

"She's great, Ophelia. She's such a good kid."

She licked her lips and gave a sad smile. "I'm glad she has you and Alistair."

I stepped toward her, wanting so badly just to hold her. "Ophelia, she has you too. She will always have you. That's why I'm here. You are her mother. And she needs you back in her life...I need you back in our life. And not just for her. For me too. I fucked up."

Ophelia shook her head. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Saying what?"

She threw up her hands. "That you fucked up. How did you fuck up? I'm the one who was being selfish. Who was willing to take Cecilia away from you, just like I took her away from Alistair. I was going to do the same fucking shit that I always do. I was going to run when it got hard, and I didn't want to do it anymore." Her lips trembled, tears pooling in her eyes. "Not withher. Cecilia didn't deserve that."

I couldn't stop myself anymore. Closing the space between us, I gripped her hands. "Ophelia, you don't deserve this either. There's nothing to run away from. Not anymore. Even if there is nothing romantic left between us, I will always be in your life and Cecilia's life. And you will always have Alistair."

She started to cry, tears streaming down her face.

"And to answer your question, I fucked up because I didn't fight for you. I set you up for the only path you expected. I said I loved you, but I didn't show you how I loved you. I wasn't honest with you. I didn't tell you the truth. I didn't give you a chance to have a say in what I did. Instead, I sprung everything on you...and you're right, I was testing you. But that was so fucked up of me. I didn't even realize it until you said it, and then by the time it hit me, it was too late, and you were gone.

I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"I've spent my whole life feeling like women, friends, business partners—literally everyone—were just trying to take advantage of me because of my money. And I guess apart of me just feared that you were the same. And so, instead of talking to you, instead of trying to incorporate you in any of this, I acted out of fear. I tested you, but it wasn't even a fair test. It was manipulative. It was giving you only one option, the one you expected to happen.

"Instead, I should’ve told you that I was on your side, that I had your back, and showed you that I loved you. Because I do love you, Ophelia. I loved you when we were in college, and I never stopped loving you. And when I saw you outside that restaurant, it was like all those feelings came rushing back. But this love was deeper. And it's still here. If you don't feel the same, I'll never question your feelings again. But I will never forgive myself if I don't tell you the truth, if I don't apologize, if I don’t make it clear how I feel about you and give you a real choice.

"Not because I'm testing you. But because I love you, Ophelia."

She was silent for a long time, and it might have been the most terrifying moment of my life, trying to read the thoughts behind her expression. Of course, I went straight to the worst. That there would never be a future for us.

I would pick myself up, of course, but I would never stop thinking what I could have done differently—if I could have done something differently.

Finally, she took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to meet mine. She squeezed my hand, and I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Lorenzo, you said something the night of the press conference that has stuck with me. You said that you knew I felt safe with you, and that's why I stayed. I have felt guilty about that every day since."

"Why?"

"Quinton did tell me that I was safe with you, but I've had more than enough time to think, being out here alone, and I have to tell you...I was in denial, Lorenzo. It's true—I felt safe with you. But not just because of what I was hiding. It was because of you. Because I loved you. And I still love you, Lorenzo."

My voice caught in my throat. If I never expressed my worries now, I'd always wonder. "Please don't say that to me just because I said it to you."

"I'm not," she smiled. "The day you said it to me in your bedroom, I felt it with every fiber of my being. But I was so fucking terrified."

"No!" I couldn't stand even this small distance between us. So I weaved my arms around her waist, pulling her against me. "Of what?"