The last fourteen days have been a trip straight to hell and back.

Every last fucking second of them.

Starting first with the fiasco at my father’s fundraiser, not only have I spent fourteen nights in my bed alone, I’ve pretty much made a full-time job out of babysitting Annabelle and trying to clean up the nuclear fallout that resulted from the article in the 7-Day last week. On top of that, I’ve had to work side by side with my nemesis to accomplish the latter.

I want to slit my wrists about now. I’m exhausted, I’m angry, and I’m ravenous for a woman I’m not sure I’ll ever get a genuine taste of again.

Within an hour after the exposé broke, Mergen had come up with a game plan, finally demonstrating the value he brought to my father’s campaign. I had to reluctantly agree it was a good one, but it required Willow’s cooperation, and I wasn’t sure if she would go along with it. I wasn’t sure I blamed her.

I wanted to be the man to reassure her. The one she leaned on. So when I realized Noah was talking to Willow—that she had called him back to get details and not me—I may have lost it.

My father, Mergen, Noah, and I were in my home office at the time, which now is short one bottle of very pricey Hennessy 250. Even though I later had the entire carpet steamed twice, I can’t get the stench of liquor out of the air. And the dent it made in the wall where I chucked the full bottle still needs to be repaired.

But after that minor blowup, I had to look past the agony gradually eating its way through my soul to the immediate problem at hand. I sat not so patiently while Noah calmly explained to my girl the steps we needed to take to mitigate the damage.

Surprisingly, she agreed, though for some inexplicable reason, Willow will do anything for Noah. If I’d asked, I can only imagine the expletives she’d have filled my ear with.

In the past six days, Willow and I have given an interview to the biggest and most respectable daily paper in Seattle, the World Herald, along with on-air interviews to each of the major news stations in town. We refuted the 7-Day article, of course, citing their past behavior as demonstrative of their blatant support of Harrington, along with an obvious bone to pick with me.

We’ve subtly called the 7-Day’s editor-in-chief’s integrity into question when Mergen uncovered she conveniently happens to be the second cousin of Harrington’s wife. I wish I’d known that.

And between all this, we’ve made it a point to be seen out together often while Mergen anonymously tips off reporters where we’ll be.

Leaving city hall hand in hand.

Cozy dinners on the water.

Taking my niece and nephews to the children’s museum.

We’ve somehow convinced the outside world we are stronger than ever when we are anything but. After a torturous week apart, Willow spent time with me not because she wanted to, but because she was forced to. She jumped in to do what she does best. What I’d originally hired her for. She played my girlfriend to a very fucking pointy T, and by played, I definitely mean acted.

She pasted on that dreamy smile she’s flashed me countless times.

She let me touch her, lavish attention on her for the cameras.

She grazed my jaw with her lips and batted her eyes with practiced shyness when I told her how she took my breath away.

But when the flashes ebbed and we were alone, I saw it. It took me months to find the bottom of those hidden blue depths, but now a murky, impenetrable darkness blocks my view.

It’s what I’ve feared most.

She’s shut down thoroughly. Shut me out completely. She is right next to me yet a world away, and I don’t know how to get her back.

It’s a truth that burns me to my core.

It’s burning me right this second, in fact, with her warm body plastered to mine, her arm around my waist.

It’s D-day. Election evening, actually. The day I’ve been dreading since I walked out of Randi Deveraux’s office with Willow’s signature still wet.

My entire family is here, waiting. And it would look odd if my girlfriend weren’t by my side, wouldn’t it?

“Can I get you anything, beautiful?” I ask her. I set my lips to her temple and inhale the coconut scent of her shampoo. Her breaths come faster. My dick twitches. He misses her as much as I do.

“No, thank you. I’m good,” she replies curtly.

The corner of my mouth lifts up, but it’s a far cry from a smile.

I am done with this. The evasion. Her stubbornness. I’ve put up with it for two weeks now and my patience is rubbed completely raw.

“You and I are talking tonight after this is over.”

“We’re talking right now.”

Christ almighty. I want to bury my face between her legs until I have her so worn and weary she’ll listen to every goddamn word I have to say.

Instead, I tilt my head to the ceiling and pray for patience. I haven’t prayed this much since I wanted a golden Labrador at the age of twelve.

“I’m tired of this bullshit, Willow. Of all this surface crap you’ve given me this week. We need to talk like adults, without the cameras. Just you and me.” She stiffens beside me but keeps that false fucking smile planted on her lips. I lean down, whispering in her ear, “You owe me this, Goldilocks.”

Her smile wavers. Just a bit, but she schools it in record time. Looking up at me she beats those long lashes lovingly but her voice drips with incredulity. “I owe you? That’s rich. I distinctly remember you telling me you wouldn’t be anything less than honest with me. And I foolishly believed you.”

The day after the 7-Day story was printed, my father’s lead dropped by five full points, narrowing his lead with Harrington to within a statistical margin of error. A week later, it’s crawled back up three points but it’s still too close for comfort, and what should have been a landslide is now too close to call.

I should care more than I do if my father wins or not. After all, that’s the only reason this beauty is glaring at me with barely veiled icicles dangling from her eyelids. But the only thing I can make myself care about is her and how I can win her back.

I pivot and press my body fully into hers. Her breath skips in warning, but she doesn’t make a move away from me because that’s not what a doting girlfriend would do.

We’re tucked toward the back of the packed room and no one is around us at the moment. All eyes are focused on the updated polling results scrolling along the bottom of a giant screen on the wall. Not that I’d care if we were in the middle of a circle with everyone’s attention on us anyway.

It wouldn’t stop me from doing this…

Cradling her face in my hands, I don’t give her a chance to deny me as I press my lips to hers in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s real, not for show. I move my mouth slowly against hers, with purpose, the way I did the first time I kissed her. I run my tongue along the seam of her pillowy lips. I nip at her lower one until she stops resisting and her moans turn into a sweet symphony of submission.

I lock my muscles tight forcing her to stay flush with me. She hasn’t let me kiss her this way all week and I am greedy. Insatiable. I’ll never get enough. I keep kissing her until her hands crawl up my back and, whether she means to or not, she pulls me closer.

I allow my heart to soar with hope.

She doesn’t want this to end any more than I do. She simply doesn’t know how to move through it. I don’t have the answers either. All I know is we have to do it side by side.

“I love you,” I tell her adamantly against her swollen lips when I break away and lean my forehead to hers. Her eyes close as I talk but I can’t close mine. I need to watch every single reaction. “And you deserved the truth from me the second I found out. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I was scared. I’ve never been more scared of losing anything in my life, Goldilocks. You, Annabelle. Everything I loved was on the line.”

Her hold loosens. Her hands drop to my lower back and now she’s barely touching me, only her fingertips making contact. I am bereft.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Shaw,” she tells me lowly. She’s still hiding her eyes from me, though they’re open. They’re downcast as she moves her hands from my back to my sides and curls them around the fabric of my dress shirt. Now I don’t even feel their warmth. “I love you, but I’m not sure that’s enough.”

The wind puffing my sails a minute ago is suddenly still and stifling. I’m dead in the water.

What do I do? I try not to panic. To think logically, strategically.

In my experience with Willow, begging won’t work, but maybe the truth will. It’s my last play.

“Some bad stuff happened to her that night, Willow. Even I didn’t know the details until recently.” I pause, the next part hard to think about let alone say. “She was almost raped by some druggie asshole boyfriend of hers and…yes, she was impaired, but she was in a bad place mentally even before that.”

I shouldn’t be doing this here, only I may not have another chance after tonight. If she decides this is over, it’s quite possible I may never see her again. She’s stubborn and determined and steadfast in her decisions. Like me.

“I’m not making excuses but Annabelle doesn’t remember what happened that night after she fled. She doesn’t remember trying to jump, or your father coming along, or…the accident. None of it. She didn’t even realize there was a connection. None of us did until Mergen threatened to tell you about it if I didn’t back off.”

Those bewitching eyes pop open now. A myriad of emotions runs through her and I see every one of them transition to the next. Confusion, realization, sadness, then concern.

“I wanted you to know the whole story, not the shady version your ex was trying to peddle. I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, Willow. I was just trying to figure out how to deliver the blow with the least amount of impact. To everyone. But I always intended to tell you. Please believe that.”

“Annabelle was outside the room when I left. She looked…”—she pauses, thinking—“distraught.”

I nod. “She learned at the same time you did. She followed me and was eavesdropping. I’d been trying to find a way to tell you both without…” I scrub a hand over my face, wanting to lay it all open. How selfish I’ve been. “Without losing either of you.”

Her face is scrunched in disbelief as she quietly understands what I’m telling her. “Oh my God.” She breaks from my hold and steps to the side, running her gaze over the room.

I’ve intentionally stayed away from my mother and father tonight. Per my instructions, Annabelle is attached to their hip, with Noah watching guard. I didn’t think it would be a good idea for either Annabelle or Willow to have to interact tonight. Wounds are too fresh.

“Is she okay? I mean, is she…you know?”

Oh, how I love this woman. She’s so damn selfless. And the fact she’s even worried about Annabelle means something. I refuse to believe it doesn’t.

I wrap my arm around her. “She’s been staying with me.” Though she’s bitched about it all hours of the day and night. “She started seeing a counselor last week and I have her sponsor on speed dial. She’s not spending much time alone these days. I’m making sure of it.”

She lets out a long, measured breath. “Good. That’s…that’s good.”

“That night.” I have to clear my throat and start again. “That night, the police picked her and three of her friends up about a quarter mile from the accident site. I’ve never been more scared in my life when I walked into that holding room and saw a ghost of my sister sitting there. We immediately put her in rehab and I’ll be honest, she’s struggled. She slipped last year and voluntarily went back again and…” I blow out a ragged breath. “Terrified doesn’t even touch the surface of how I feel about her falling back into that again, Willow. This is a lot for her to handle. For all of us to handle.”

Quiet falls on us. I wonder what she’s thinking. I’m getting ready to demand she go somewhere private with me after the results are announced when she grabs her pendant between two fingers and starts running it back and forth along the silver chain, saying quietly, “My sister, Violet, died from a drug overdose when she was seventeen.”

I suck in a hard breath. Jesus Christ. Her entire family has been decimated. No wonder she’s this closed off. She’s clutching that necklace as if it’s giving her strength. Suddenly I don’t care if Mergen had anything to do with it. I don’t care about anything but her.

“Willow, baby, I am so, so sorry.” I draw her closer and let my lips linger at the top of her head.

“I was twelve. She was my best friend and the best big sister anyone could ask for.” I physically feel her pain seeping into me. I can hardly bare it. “She was a musical prodigy. She played the piano like no one I’ve ever seen before.”

“Like Annabelle,” I find myself whispering. My eyes happen to connect with my baby sister’s and she offers me a forced smile.

“Yeah, like Annabelle. Your sister reminds me a lot of Violet. She’s gifted and smart and beautiful. She has unlimited potential.”

“She does,” I agree, wishing Annabelle would see all the good bits in her that others do.

Willow tilts her head up, meeting my gaze. Her blue eyes are soft and sad. “She’s also volatile and haunted and teetering on the brink. She has the same look my sister had before…”

It takes a few beats before I can respond, “I know.” Hence why someone is with her 24/7.

“She needs you right now. Your family needs you right now.”

I don’t like the feeling that benign sentence leaves behind. I shift her body to mine, pressing us together, knees to stomach. “What are you trying to say?”

She tenses as if she intends to pull back. My grasp becomes implacable.

“This isn’t over between us, Willow. It will never be over. You are family. You’re meant to be mine. My lover. My wife. The mother to my children. I know it won’t be easy to get through this, but I’m not letting the love of my life walk away from me.”

She opens her mouth right as the entire room erupts in cheers. I automatically release her to see what’s caused the chaos and, glancing up at the screen on the wall, I see that the race has been officially called.

With 52 percent of the popular vote, my father has won.

My father won.

Sweet relief runs through me. I catch my father’s eye from across the room and grin when he gives me a brief acknowledgment of thanks. My mother is beaming and Annabelle is trying to act happy but she’s edgy. I’m torn between going to her and staying with Willow, but when I see Noah throw an arm around my sister’s shoulder and she playfully punches him in the gut, I know she’s in good hands.

I ignore Mergen staring at us and turn to Willow at the same time she turns to me.

She smiles, but genuine happiness isn’t blanketing her face right now. Ending and closure are. It almost knocks me on my ass. “Congratulations. You did it.”

“We did it,” I retort, wrapping my arms all the way around her again. She puts her hands to my chest, keeping distance between us. I loathe those inches. Every blessed one of them.

Shaking her head, she says, “I had nothing to do with it. In fact, I think maybe I almost cost him the win.”

“That’s not true. You had everything to do with it, Willow. Everything.”

You’ve changed my life. My world. My focus. Me.

Willow balls my shirt in her fists, pinching a few hairs in the process but I don’t balk. She rises on her tiptoes and places a chaste kiss on my cheek. It feels final. I close my eyes. They’re already watering.

“I have to go,” she whispers, her mouth still lingering against me.

“You need to stay.” I tighten my hold. “Please,” I beg her. I’ll grovel, throw myself around her ankles, sell every possession I own. I have nothing without her anyway. “Please, Willow. I’ll do anything you want. Please don’t walk out that door without me.”

If she does, we’re through.

“I just can’t.” She brushes her lips along my jaw, up to my ear. “Tell your father congratulations and that I’m sorry I couldn’t tell him myself. And take care of your sister. She needs you now more than ever.”

“I need you, Goldilocks. Now more than ever.” But if she heard me she doesn’t react because she’s already walking way. As if the clock struck midnight and her coach was morphing back into a pumpkin, she’s walking away.

With each clipped step she takes toward the exit, another piece of my soul is violently ripped from me and I know…

This is good-bye.