Rowan

“Took you long enough.” I tease him as he hands me a glass of champagne, the crisp bubbles popping as they float to the surface.

“Ran into an old friend,” he tells me. “We got to reminiscing. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I run a palm down his lapel, smoothing the thick ebony fabric. “I don’t think I told you how handsome you look tonight.”

“Aren’t I this handsome every night?”

I wrinkle my nose and stick out my tongue for a brief moment. “So arrogant.”

“Always.”

“I need to run to the ladies’ room for a second. Hold my drink?” I hand him my flute. “I won’t be long.”

Gliding across the ballroom, cutting between dignitaries and pseudo-familiar famous faces and political heavyweights, I manage to find the restroom, only when the door swings open and I step inside, I’m surprised to find a yet another familiar face.

Mary Kate.

I’ve only ever seen her in photographs, only ever read about her in interviews, but it’s her.

Which means Hunter is here, too.

Her back is to me, but I see her reflection in the mirror, and as I move closer, I can tell she’s been crying. A crumpled tissue rests in her hand, covered in traces of black mascara. The tip of her pointed nose is red and her pristine complexion is flushed.

“I’m so sorry,” she says with a Georgian drawl. The fact that she would apologize to me for crying says a lot about her.

She’s probably a sweet girl, and as much as I want to loathe her, I really can’t. None of this is her fault. Hunter played us both. I bet she doesn’t even know I exist. I always wondered why it was so important to him that our relationship keep a low profile.

Now I know.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

Her lips tremble as she tries to smile. “Yes? No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to bother you.” She dabs at a fat tear sliding down her cheek.

She seems sweet, endearing. Not what I expected at all.

Hunter doesn’t deserve someone this nice.

Hell, he didn’t deserve me either. It just took me a while to realize it.

“Talk to me.” I take the spot on the counter beside her, dress, heels, and everything.

“I overheard a conversation between my fiancé and another man,” she says, her breath jagged as she pauses. “He admitted he has feelings for another girl, and that our engagement was nothing more than a way to benefit his senate campaign.”

Jesus.

So that’s why he dumped me and went back to his ex.

I hand her a fresh tissue from a nearby box. “Sounds like a prick. You should consider yourself lucky. Imagine spending the rest of your life with someone like that?”

“It’s just … you think you know someone,” she says. “We’d been together since high school. We even stayed together in college, doing the whole long-distance thing. Anyway, you don’t need to hear all this. I’m just trying to wrap my head around how I could fall in love with someone and not even truly know them.”

Her words resonate in more ways than one, but I try not to focus on my own problems.

Mary Kate’s life just fell apart at the seams, and right now, I’m all she’s got.

“I should’ve known better,” she said. “My Mama always said there are two kinds of men you never want to fall in love with. Car salesmen because they’re professional liars. And politicians because they rarely make a promise they can keep.”

“Listen, you’re going to be fine,” I say, resting my hand over hers. “Whoever he was, he doesn’t deserve you. Will you do something for me?”

Her eyes study mine. “Sure.”

“Will you walk out of here with your head held high?” I ask. “And promise yourself that you will never let him darken your doorstep ever again?”

Mary Kate offers a slow nod. “Yes. I promise.”

“Thank you.” I give her a hug because she looks like she needs one, and she squeezes me tight.

“No,” she says, offering a weary smile. “Thank you. Whoever you are.”

I know now that Hunter had never mentioned me to her, that I wasn’t important enough to him. I imagine she has no idea we’d been seeing each other, that we’d spent hundreds of nights in each other’s arms.

I was just some girl to keep his bed warm.

He was always planning to go back to her.

I meant nothing.

And just like that, the jagged chunk of my heart that refused to let go of him … does.