Rowan

I haven’t been home but five minutes when Hannah starts blowing up my phone. The microwave above the stove hums, heating my Lean Cuisine spaghetti dinner, and all I want to do is fill my rumbling belly and relax for two point five seconds, but it looks like I’m going to have to put a pin on that.

Going over her messages, I click on the link she sent and take a seat at my island when I read the headline.

KEIR MONTGOMERY ENDING CANDIDACY IN MARYLAND SENATE RACE. WATCH HIS ANNOUNCEMENT HERE.

I click on the link to the video, watching as the camera pans in on an empty podium. A message scrolling across the bottom claims that the footage was recorded three hours ago. Within seconds, Keir appears in a black suit, wearing a blue and red striped tie I gifted him one lazy Tuesday night when we were wandering around the city and happened past a hole-in-the-wall tie shop.

“First, I’d like to thank you all for being here. I’d also like to thank WMAR, WKCA, and WHOI for broadcasting my announcement on such short notice.” His jaw flexes as he scans the media before him. “As you all know, last Sunday, I announced my candidacy for next year’s vacant senate seat in Maryland’s twenty-ninth district.”

He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his eyes darker than usual, his face slightly gaunt.

“I met someone recently,” he continues. “Someone who challenged me, challenged the way I thought, the way I felt. See, before she came along, I never cared what anyone thought of me. It never mattered. It was never a concern of mine. I was arrogant and prideful and vain and selfish. But this person? They didn’t see me that way. They saw the good parts of me, the parts I never knew existed. I’m sure many of you know, it takes a special person to be able to bring out the best in the worst kind of people. And I’m here to tell you, I was one of the worst. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. I placed myself in this race for all the wrong reasons. And I’ve realized in the past week that I don’t deserve your votes. Not yet. I need to work for them, earn them. But right now, I need to focus on this woman, this special person that means more to me than she could ever possibly imagine.”

My hand is clasped over my mouth, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath this entire time.

He’s giving it up.

He’s giving it up for me.

“And I can’t dedicate myself to both her and the campaign at the same time,” he says. “So it’s with a heavy heart that I tell you I’m ending my candidacy for the vacant senate seat in Maryland’s twenty-ninth district. Thank you for your time.”

A woman in a suit takes the spot beside him, calling on reporters and taking questions.

I end the video, my heart and soul and mind heavy.

Resting my head in my hands, I lose myself in my thoughts for a minute. It’s a grand gesture, undeniably. He’s putting his career—his dream—on hold just to prove he loves me.

“Did you watch it?” Hannah texts me.

“Yes.”

“And???” she replies instantly. “You’re going to call him, right?”

Biting my lip, I tell her I will. And then I pull up his number, my thumb hovering over his name until there’s a knock at my door.

Sliding off the bar stool, I make my way across my apartment, peering through the peephole and desperately trying to still my heart and quiet my mind and pull myself together by the time I open the door.

Pull in three deep breaths, I unfasten the lock and twist the knob.

Standing in the same three-piece suit and red and blue tie he wore in the press conference, Keir’s sapphire gaze drinks me in.

“I’m not running,” he says.

“I know.”

“I don’t deserve their votes,” he adds.

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m a despicable person, Rowan. I’ve done deplorable things. I’ve hurt people for my own benefit. I’ve lied and cheated, and I’ve done it all without an ounce of remorse. My heart is as dark as midnight and I’ve never cared what anyone thinks, if they even like me. But now? I care what you think. And I want you to like me, Rowan. I want you to love me.”

“What is this? Giving up your career to try and prove a point? What are you doing, Keir?” I ask.

“Trying to be the person you thought I was,” he says.

“The person you were pretending to be.”

“I’m tired of being the villain,” he says. “It’s all I’ve ever been. I don’t want to be him anymore. I want to be a man worthy of a woman like you.”

There were nights we used to lie awake in bed, our naked bodies tangled and my ear pressed against the gentle thrum of his heart as he told me about his childhood, about the absence of unconditional love and affection. It was then that I began to understand why he spent his twenties embroiled in scandals and casual liaisons.

And now it makes sense that if no one ever cared about him, he wouldn’t care about them. Self-regard was all he ever knew, and he was forced to look out for number one because no one else was. That became his way of life, his way of survival.

“So you’re just going to change, just like that?” I ask, one hand resting on my hip. “And you expect me to believe you this time?”

“What we had the last couple weeks? That was real. It was the realest fucking thing I’ve ever felt, and it was terrifying and amazing and I know if I walk out of here tonight without you, I’m never going to feel that way with anyone else as long as I live.”

“What about your career? You’re just going to give it up for me?”

“You’re my priority, Rowan. I won’t have time to focus on the campaign trail if the only thing I can think about is you,” he says, a stark contrast to the words Hunter had spoken to me just a couple of months ago. “I want you. And I’m willing to give it all away for a chance to prove to you that I’m crazy about you.”

He moves closer, and I pull his familiar scent into my lungs, drowning in the sweet nostalgia.

Keir’s hand lifts to my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip.

“I love you, Rowan,” he says. “If I have to campaign for your love the rest of my life, I will.”

Pulling in a jagged breath, I rest my gaze in his. “I’m still angry with you.”

His lips flatten as he studies me, his expression blank as if he’s trying not to get his hopes up.

“But I still love you,” I say, rising on my toes. “So damn much.”

Keir’s mouth arches into a slow smile in the seconds before he claims my lips with a punishing kiss.

“I’ll never do anything to hurt you again,” he whispers as he kisses me. “You’ll always be my first priority, above everything else. And I’ll love you every single day for the rest of your life. I promise.”

“I took that job,” I tell him. “I’m going to be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time.”

“Then I’ll come with you,” he says. “We’ll travel everywhere together. I don’t want be in a city where you don’t exist.”

My mouth curls at the sides in the seconds before he steals another kiss. This time it’s softer, as if he’s savoring everything about this moment.

But I don’t mind.

I am too.