In my Arms Tonight (NYC Singles Book 2) by Sasha Clinton

of happening.” Far over the decent volume threshold by this point, Alex was enraged.
    So many people, so many years, yet every one of them took a jab at the same sore wound. They all had their excuses—the same excuses that he’d been hearing for ages.
    You’re unlovable.
    Jane averted her face. “I’m sorry. I should have apologized. I should’ve told you before the wedding and spared you from humiliation. I should have. But I didn’t. Because I was really scared. I didn’t want you to try to convince me to stay or change my mind. By leaving, I thought I could escape the unpleasantness. I’m sorry.”
    “Stuff the sorries. I don’t need them.” Alex slammed his balled fists on the arms of the chair. Jane reeled back.
    He immediately removed his hand from the table to assure her he would never take his anger out physically, but a sound pulled his attention away.
    “What’s going on here?” The door to Jane’s office was pushed to the wall by a sturdy-looking man in a yellow shirt and red tie.
    Alex glanced at David King—Jane’s husband—who was glowering at him, his hip resting on the doorjamb. The body language screamed, Get out from my wife’s vicinity, Summer, before I maim you.
    David was physically large and intimidating. This was one man Alex wanted to stay away from.
    Jane pressed her stray hairs into a neat bob. “Everything’s okay, David. Alex and I were just discussing… er… the video. He’s understandably upset about it.”
    “I’d appreciate if you could keep the volume down while talking to my wife, Alex.” Decidedly unhappy, David gave Jane a quick visual check before leaving the door open and dragging himself back into his glass-cocooned shell.
    “Sorry about that. David’s… overprotective sometimes. I understand your anger, but it’s all in the past now, so I hope we can continue to work together and let it go.” Flushed, Jane dripped coffee into her mouth.
    Crawling with competing, self-destructive thoughts, Alex lost the desire to explain himself. “I’ll find my way out.”
    The parting line was weak, lacking in any effort.
    David directed another bloodthirsty glower at Alex as he removed himself from offices of Patterson & King.

    Still dealing with the emotional aftermath of his meeting with Jane, Alex knocked on doors that afternoon, canvassing people to vote for him.
    Ahmed, who was supposed to be doing this with him, had bailed out five minutes ago. His wife had hurt her toe and being the hypochondriac that she was, she’d made a huge fuss about it. Ahmed had left to check on her just in case it happened to be something more than a toe fracture.
    Alex could’ve left with him, but he wanted to finish this street by afternoon, so he’d stayed on.
    “Hello, I’m Alex Summer. I’m running for mayor. Can I have a few minutes of your time?”
    He repeated his introduction to an exhausted young mother who looked utterly disinterested. Behind her, her kids were having a three-way tug-of-war in the doorway with a porcelain vase, yelling at the top of their voices. Wiry, with bits of tomato puree stuck in her frizzy hair, she eyed them warily.
    “It’s mine!”
    “No, it’s mine!”
    “You have very energetic kids,” Alex flashed his fakest grin.
    “Do you want to take them? Adopt them?” Desperation oozed from her face. From how tight her face was, she could snap and lose it any moment now.
    “No, no, thank you. I’m sure they’re happy with you. I can tell that you’re a very good mother.” It was a weak attempt at sarcasm. “This is my leaflet. Please go through it in your own time. It discusses my stance on issues affecting the city. I’m strongly lobbying for after-school support in public schools. As a parent, you must be worried about your children’s education.”
    “Education? I’m more worried about how I’m going to feed them this month. My ex-husband’s not sent me the check for child support… as usual. Do you know my youngest was