“Come on,” I said, tugging his hand. “Let’s have a beer.”
After some awkward conversation in the kitchen, he suggested we go back out onto the balcony. As soon as we got out there, he led me to the chaise lounge again.
“I thought we were going to finish our conversation from last night,” I said.
“Maybe we should continue our nonverbal communication.” He sat down, pulling me into his arms.
“Adam…”
His mouth was on mine before I could finish. For a few minutes, I thought, What the hell. I love the guy. Why couldn’t I make out with him? As things progressed, though, I realized he was just getting started. He was there to have sex, and that I wasn’t ready for, no matter how much I wanted it.
“I love you,” I said after I broke our kiss. “But I need to slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down.” His lips searched for mine again.
“But I need time.” My tone was insistent, which caused him to freeze for a moment.
He eyed me suspiciously and said, “You know I’ll resign tomorrow if it will make you feel better.”
“That’s sweet.” I gave him a half-hearted smile. We were back to his silver-bullet solution, as if I hadn’t had a boyfriend or a life before he’d come along. “But it doesn’t change—”
“And I don’t care if you have a reputation for sleeping with the press.” He poked my side.
“Oh, that’s fine for you to say,” I said with a touch of derision.
“In fact, I’d like for you to have a reputation for sleeping with me.” His eyes were sparkling with playfulness, but his expression became more deadpan when he added, “As my wife.”
“What?” My mouth gaped open, and I jolted up from his chest. He had to be joking. “Adam, I—”
“There.” His tone became all seriousness, but he touched my cheek. “I’ve put my cards on the table. I love you.”
“I…I love you, too. But I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I don’t know if you’re ready for it.”
“Well, I am ready. I’m bloody sure of it.”
“Are you?” My skepticism filled the air.
“I rang Felicity this morning. Told her we needed to talk when I was in London this week. I’m going to break things off permanently.”
“Oh…”
“What about Juan Carlos?”
There was no way I was going there. I’d tried to forget about last night’s call, so I simply held up my hands as if I was helpless.
Adam stared me down. “Well, seventeen years since we first met, I’m certain.” He gulped, and his confident demeanor changed as he qualified himself. “But I think you’re not certain about me.”
Shaking my head, I gently touched his temple. “I’m certain I love you.”
I hadn’t meant for it to be a pledge, just statement of how I felt. But he evidently took it as more as he grinned and leaned down to kiss me. I had to awkwardly look away and began fidgeting with my watch. “But we loved each other before, and look how that turned out.”
“Aw fuck, Nicki. That’s what’s holding you back? Me messing around with Kate.” He sat up and hit the arm of the chair with his fist. “I’m sorry I broke your heart, but you’d broken mine. I was seventeen and a scared, hurt idiot. It’s history, and that’s not me anymore. I want to be with you and only you.”
“This is all new…” My dilemma was dizzying. It was one thing to feel love for someone. It was quite another to change your life for them, and that was what he was asking me to do. I began to babble, “I need time, and this is a bad week for me, and—”
“Well, I don’t need time, and it’s not all new. On one level or another, I’ve known this for half my bloody life. It sounds like you may have as well, otherwise you wouldn’t have avoided me for a decade and a half.”
“But right now isn’t a good time—”
“Bollocks. It’s never going to be a good time. We just have to make it happen.” His lip curled in annoyance. “If you don’t see that, you’re not as clever as I thought you were.”
Now that pissed me off. I glared at him. Maybe he could take or leave his job, but I had so much more to lose than he did. Couldn’t he see that? “Given the situation, I think I’m acting very intelligently.”
“Maybe acting intelligently, but not smart.”
I looked away for a moment, wondering what had become of the kind man I’d been with just the day before. Why had he turned into this demanding asshole? What was his deal? I again fidgeted with my watch, fully expecting to hear an apology from him in just a few seconds. Instead, I heard him say, “Come with me to see my dad. Come home with me.”
“What?” My head jerked up.
“Just as I said. I want you to come to Cambridge with me. I’d like for you to see my dad before…well, before. It’s important.”
“Adam, I want to be there for you, but you know I can’t do that.” It was a snap judgment, but I thought it made sense. I was going to London for work. I didn’t need to be traipsing all over England to see a dying man who never really liked me, especially when things were so uncertain with his son.
But what I thought was a sensible decision Adam took as an insult. “Well, why the fuck not?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
This time he slammed his fist against the chair so hard the sound made me jump. Hoping to calm him down, I said slowly, “Give me some time. I’m thinking it through…”
“Goddamn it, Nicki.” He shook his head in exasperation, gently pushed me aside, and climbed off the lounge. When he stood up, his eyes were fixed on me as he demanded, “Then think. Think about why you won’t. What else is holding you back? Juan Carlos? You don’t love him. If you did, you wouldn’t be here with me. Is it your job? It’s just a fucking job. I’ll tell you, in the grand scheme of things, whatever it is, it’s not important. You’re what’s most important to me. And from what you’ve said, I’m important to you. So let’s stop pissing around and get the fuck on with our lives.”
I had no idea how to react to what he’d said. I was utterly confused.
When he saw that I wasn’t giving him immediate feedback, he took another swig of beer and then said, “You know how to reach me. I’m leaving for the UK on Thursday.” Then, abandoning me on the balcony, he said, “Good night.”
As usual, work was my refuge from my personal life for the next few days. Work made sense. The men in my life did not, so I focused on what I could do well. The one day I saw Adam at work before he left for London, he thankfully ignored me. Then he never called me at all, and I was too annoyed and admittedly a little scared to call him. I also avoided Juan Carlos. I let all of his calls go to voicemail and answered with a short text, telling him I’d see him the next week.
But I couldn’t escape Lisa, and she could tell I was in a funk. She cornered me in the kitchen the night before my trip. “What in the hell is going on with you?” she asked after I didn’t respond to her simple question about dinner.
“Just a lot on my mind from work.”
“Come on. There’s something else. David asked what was up, because Adam has been a bear to be around.”
The jig was up. Squinting as I felt the pain again, I said, “Adam sort of gave me an ultimatum and walked out on me.”
“Did he now?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it took him long enough.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not like I’ve been leading him on. He knows exactly where things have stood with Juan Carlos, and he’s been with Felicity the entire time. Supposedly, he’s breaking up with her when he’s in London.”
“But you still won’t commit?”
Lisa was pissing me off. She’d always been the rational one of my friends, the one who’d been skeptical of Adam back in high school because he was an unknown. Any reasonable person should’ve seen now what I’d be giving up if I took it any furthe
r with him.
I threw my hands on my hips and said, “I’ve got a lot to lose.”
“Is this about your job?”
“In part.”
“Because I’ll tell you what one of my med school professors told me, and it’s the damn truth. She said she never heard anyone on their deathbed say they wished they’d spent more time in the office.”
“My job isn’t just any job.”
“Everybody says that.”
I tried my other argument. “But you like Juan Carlos.”
“He’s a good guy, and he’ll be even better with another woman.” Her hard veneer quickly vanished, and she placed a hand on my arm. “We’ve known each other a long time. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re with Adam, back then and now. Do you really want to lose him again? Think about it,” she said and left the room.
I always slept with my phone’s ringer on, just in case there was an emergency at work. At one in the morning, I heard the buzz faintly through my sleep. Blinking at the bright screen, I saw the call was from Matt.
“Hey,” I said, propping myself up on my arm. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to call late, but I thought you should know before you get questions from the entire White House Press Corps on the plane.”
“What’s going on?”
“I was up checking the Washington Post for a story, and I happened to see a headline with your name in it.”
“Oh my God.” I slapped a hand to my heart in terror. How did anyone find out about Adam and me?
“Do you know what I’m calling about?”
“No.” I grimaced at my lie and the reprimand I was about to receive.
“If you don’t know already,” he said with a chuckle, “I’m happy to be the one to tell you that Juan Carlos was seen looking at engagement rings in Tiffany’s yesterday. It’s a blurb on The Reliable Source blog.”
I exhaled a breath of relief. Matt wasn’t calling to chew me out for causing a political crisis for the president on the eve of a big trip.
Then the fear came back, only more mildly. Shit. Damn Latin guy. For once I rued that Juan Carlos was Cuban. Of course he would run off and do something over the top to get me back, like surprise me with an engagement ring. I imagined him presenting me with it, and the vision forced an answer out of me. It was like my heart silently called out, But I don’t want to marry him.
I placed a hand over my eyes, like shielding them would lessen my problems. When I remembered I must give Matt a believable response, I pretended to laugh. “Thanks, Matt. What are you going to say when they ask you about it?”
“No. What are you going to say when they ask you about it?”
“Probably that I don’t respond to gossip columns. Of course I’m not going to tell them anything!” It was both a handy and honest response.
“Well, the White House doesn’t comment on the personal lives of the president or his staff.”
“Great. Thanks for calling. I really appreciate it. Let’s both get some sleep.”
“Huh.” He was quiet for a second. “That’s it? I thought you’d be overjoyed.”
“I’m just too tired.”
“I guess so,” he said, clearly on to me. “We can talk tomorrow. Good night.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone on the nightstand. There was barely any sleep for me for the rest of the night. At any moment, I was sure Juan Carlos would call with a proposal, and I had no idea what to say.
When I got out of the shower the next morning, I saw the light blinking on my phone. Still in my towel, I dripped water on the tile as I listened to Juan Carlos’s message.
“Morning, mi reina. I’m sure you’ve heard by now. Just so you know, I hate the press.” He then laughed at his own joke and said, “No need to return the call. I know you’re leaving, and I don’t want to talk to you on the phone anyway. I’ll see you when you get back. Have a safe trip. I love you.”
I’d dodged a bullet. Thank God he wanted to propose in person. I quickly typed him a text.
Screw the press (don’t quote me on that).
You still surprised me. Love you.
Before I hit send, I stared at the last part. Did I mean it? What would he think? I decided those two words really didn’t matter. They could mean a lot of things, including absolutely nothing.
The following morning in London, I arrived at Number Ten Downing Street ahead of President Logan and his entourage. My staff and I tried to shoo away some of the crazy tabloid photographers by promising them an extra photo-op just for them later that day with the First Lady. As I talked to various paparazzi and my counterpart on the British prime minister’s staff, I would occasionally catch a glimpse of a man who had to be Adam, though I wouldn’t look long enough to see. Most of the White House Press Corps hadn’t shown up yet, but Adam must’ve been there early since he’d been on London time for a few extra days.
I wondered how he was doing. The last update I’d heard on his father’s health had been last week, and the prognosis hadn’t been good. How was Adam handling it? Was he lurking around trying to talk to me? I felt a pang as I realized that, in my heart, I hoped he was.
But the pang morphed into a deep gut wrench when the next logical question hit me. Adam was back in London now. Had he seen Felicity? Had he broken it off, or had all my dithering made him decide he wanted to stay with her? I wanted to throw up just thinking about it. I was in the thick of work, though. I couldn’t have an emotional breakdown at Number Ten Downing Street. I may have been crazy, but I wasn’t insane. Straightening my suit jacket, I blocked the thought and asked one of the British staffers a stupid protocol question just to dive back into my job.
Later, as the prime minister and president took questions together at their joint press conference, Adam was in the best location at the front of the press gaggle. I had a great view of him, but he couldn’t see me. Still, I tried not to stare. I looked everywhere I could to avoid him, surely making me appear very distracted.
When it came time for the two leaders to pose for photos, the room erupted with the noise and glare of mass photography. Matt leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You keep scanning the room. What are you looking for?”
“Nothing.”
“You look exhausted.”
I sneered. “So do you.”
“Touché.” He smiled. “Thinking about the wedding?”
I flinched so hard Matt stepped back. He stopped smiling and went from nosy-boss to big-brother mode. “It’s okay. I won’t ask about it again.”
“Thanks.”
I nervously smoothed my hair, which I’d pulled up into a bun. If Matt thought I looked exhausted, I must’ve looked like shit. Plus, I was an emotional mess, crying off and on for the last few days. I let my eyes wander one more time over to Adam, and this time I saw he was eyeing me, though his eyes revealed no intent. He only gave me a blank stare before quickly turning away. It was the kind of look you might give someone you either despised or simply had no opinion of whatsoever because they were so inconsequential to you. And now Adam had felt the need to look at me that way.
My brow furrowed, and I frowned. Maybe I didn’t need the guy to be in love with me, maybe I could live with him being with Felicity or some other bimbo, but I couldn’t stand him hating me. While the light of flash bulbs filled the room and reporters shouted additional questions to the president, I finally accepted Adam actually had been my friend all along. You cared what a friend thought of you.
The fact was, Adam had been there for me as I grieved for Lauren. He’d been there when I was seventeen, and he’d even let me cry on his shoulder now. And what had I done? I’d rejected him when he had asked me to come with him to see his dying father. I was a shitty person. I wouldn’t want me as a friend either.
After the car accident, I’d learned to deal with pain—emotional, physical, and that which intertwined the two. For purely emotional pain, I’d stuff it away in tidy boxes, and over time, I’d usually get enoug
h courage to unpack it all, sort through it, and move on. Physical pain was another matter. I endured it immediately, rolling along with the agony. I just knew Adam was rejecting me, and it created a combination of pain there was no packing away.
Waves of hurt slammed into my heart as I made my way through the day. Adam’s words from the weekend haunted me. I’d seen him angry with me once before. This time he was infuriated, but the theme was the same: I was being cruelly selfish simply to avoid potential anguish.
When I finally made it to my hotel room late that afternoon, I shut the door and dove into my bed. I threw a pillow over my head, recounting what he’d said on Sunday, but that scene got mixed with the old one in my mind. It was like he’d re-infected an old wound.
“But we could be friends. And you never know what’s going to happen in the future,” Adam said.
In a total panic, I sputtered, “I can’t do that. I can’t watch our relationship die a slow death. I think we should break up when you leave.” I gulped in air before my finale. “I don’t think we were meant to be. I think this is it.”
“Are you mad? You think that because we’ve got…geography problems, that we should just split up?”
Nodding, I started to cry. “I think it would be easier.”
“That’s complete bollocks. How long have you been thinking about this?”
“A few weeks.” I started bawling, and my feelings tumbled out of me. “I can’t do it, Adam. It’s too much. It will be easier for me if you just leave. If I don’t have to talk to you when things are impossible between us, it will hurt, but not for so long.”
His eyes narrowed at me. I’d never seen him so upset. “I can’t believe I have to say this to you, Nicki, but you’re being fucking selfish as hell. This solution may be easier for you—although I doubt it is—but it would be hell for me. There are two people in this relationship, not just you.”
Reliving that moment made me cry all the tears again. The last time I’d rejected him, I had pushed him into the arms of Kate. Was it going to be Felicity this time? Or would anyone be better than me?
Disclosure of the Heart (The Heart Series) Page 15