you’re upset.”
“And that’s exactly why you did it.” I shook my head, amazed that my father would stoop that low. But why was I surprised? Hadn’t he proven he’d go to any lengths to get what he wanted?
“I did this to prove to you that you need to let her go .”
I twisted to face him. “What the hell? I haven’t contacted her. I’m doing what you asked.”
“No.” My father glared his contempt. “You haven’t been doing what I asked at all. You may be here on the campaign trail, but you aren’t trying. Not since the first few days and now you’re losing in the polls. Voters smell apathy a hundred yards away and you reek of it. Where’s the enthusiasm you showed when you announced your candidacy?”
The first few days I’d been numb with grief over losing Rose. It had been so easy to slip into my familiar role—Joe Simmons, asshat charmer. And Hilary’s presence had helped ease me into the persona. The press conference announcing my candidacy had gone well, too well when I took into account that Hilary had gotten carried away with her role as my fiancée, pulling me into a hug and an amorous kiss, and strategically placing her large-stoned engagement ring on my arm. We’d made headlines, even gotten attention on a national morning news show. We were big news and ahead in the polls right out of the gate.
However, I’d still been going through the motions for a few days after that, convincing myself that Rose’s well-being depended on my performance. But I missed her more than I thought it was possible to miss another person. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and Hilary’s continual presence made me physically ill.
My fear for Rose had eased, and I’d let my performance slip. Why should I be surprised my father was here to remind me what I was really running for? Hurting me by pointing out that there was nothing to go back to with Rose was pure bonus.
I shoved the photos back in the folder then turned away. I couldn’t face them.
“I need to go make a few phone calls. Make yourself a cup of coffee and get yourself together within the next two hours or there will be hell to pay.” He stormed out of the room, leaving the incriminating folder on the table.
I picked up the folder to throw it in the trash but I needed to see her again, even if it was in Jonah’s arms. Against what little sense I had left, I spread the photos on the table, searching for a photo of Rose alone. Most were of her with Jonah and Bruce Wayne, but I found one at the bottom of the stack. She’d been working outside and leaned on a shovel, looking at something out of view. She had on a pair of worn jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, topped with a brown cardigan sweater. Her hair was pulled back and the wind had made her cheeks rosy. A hint of a smile lifted her mouth.
Gripping the photo with two hands, I lifted it closer to examine her left hand. Her fingers were bare, and a knot cramped my stomach. Why would I expect her to still be wearing my ring? She’d never even accepted my proposal, not to mention I was the one who left her. But I still held on to the dream that she believed I’d figure out a way to be with her. But that was completely illogical. I’d told her that we were done. No going back.
I shuffled through the photos with clumsy fingers and found several photos of Rose with Jonah, obviously taken the same day. In one they were facing each other as Rose gazed into Jonah’s face, holding his hand. A second showed them sitting on a porch, their legs pressed together and Jonah leaning into her. In the third, they were standing and in a tight embrace, Rose’s face buried in his chest.
I felt like I was strangling.
I heard a knock at the door but ignored it, sure it was my father coming back to gloat. Seconds later, Hilary entered the room and stopped next to me, taking in the photo in my hands.
“Joe,” she said in a hushed tone. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
A lump formed in my throat,
“And that’s exactly why you did it.” I shook my head, amazed that my father would stoop that low. But why was I surprised? Hadn’t he proven he’d go to any lengths to get what he wanted?
“I did this to prove to you that you need to let her go .”
I twisted to face him. “What the hell? I haven’t contacted her. I’m doing what you asked.”
“No.” My father glared his contempt. “You haven’t been doing what I asked at all. You may be here on the campaign trail, but you aren’t trying. Not since the first few days and now you’re losing in the polls. Voters smell apathy a hundred yards away and you reek of it. Where’s the enthusiasm you showed when you announced your candidacy?”
The first few days I’d been numb with grief over losing Rose. It had been so easy to slip into my familiar role—Joe Simmons, asshat charmer. And Hilary’s presence had helped ease me into the persona. The press conference announcing my candidacy had gone well, too well when I took into account that Hilary had gotten carried away with her role as my fiancée, pulling me into a hug and an amorous kiss, and strategically placing her large-stoned engagement ring on my arm. We’d made headlines, even gotten attention on a national morning news show. We were big news and ahead in the polls right out of the gate.
However, I’d still been going through the motions for a few days after that, convincing myself that Rose’s well-being depended on my performance. But I missed her more than I thought it was possible to miss another person. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and Hilary’s continual presence made me physically ill.
My fear for Rose had eased, and I’d let my performance slip. Why should I be surprised my father was here to remind me what I was really running for? Hurting me by pointing out that there was nothing to go back to with Rose was pure bonus.
I shoved the photos back in the folder then turned away. I couldn’t face them.
“I need to go make a few phone calls. Make yourself a cup of coffee and get yourself together within the next two hours or there will be hell to pay.” He stormed out of the room, leaving the incriminating folder on the table.
I picked up the folder to throw it in the trash but I needed to see her again, even if it was in Jonah’s arms. Against what little sense I had left, I spread the photos on the table, searching for a photo of Rose alone. Most were of her with Jonah and Bruce Wayne, but I found one at the bottom of the stack. She’d been working outside and leaned on a shovel, looking at something out of view. She had on a pair of worn jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, topped with a brown cardigan sweater. Her hair was pulled back and the wind had made her cheeks rosy. A hint of a smile lifted her mouth.
Gripping the photo with two hands, I lifted it closer to examine her left hand. Her fingers were bare, and a knot cramped my stomach. Why would I expect her to still be wearing my ring? She’d never even accepted my proposal, not to mention I was the one who left her. But I still held on to the dream that she believed I’d figure out a way to be with her. But that was completely illogical. I’d told her that we were done. No going back.
I shuffled through the photos with clumsy fingers and found several photos of Rose with Jonah, obviously taken the same day. In one they were facing each other as Rose gazed into Jonah’s face, holding his hand. A second showed them sitting on a porch, their legs pressed together and Jonah leaning into her. In the third, they were standing and in a tight embrace, Rose’s face buried in his chest.
I felt like I was strangling.
I heard a knock at the door but ignored it, sure it was my father coming back to gloat. Seconds later, Hilary entered the room and stopped next to me, taking in the photo in my hands.
“Joe,” she said in a hushed tone. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
A lump formed in my throat,
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