In my Arms Tonight (NYC Singles Book 2)

by Sasha Clinton

  He had to physically distance himself from the phone because what she was saying was too much to take. No woman had ever professed to needing him. It was scary, touching and oddly powerful. She had a way of confusing him like that.

  “Don’t waste your energy trying to hold onto what’s gone. You’re young. You can find someone else.”

  She snickered cynically. “If you have a secret twin brother somewhere who’s kinder, smarter and sexier than you, do tell. Otherwise, I think I’m sticking with you. I have a pretty good deal in you, after all.”

  Alex’s heart started to waver. “Kat, this is useless. You had your chance. I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “I want another chance!” Her cry was pure frustration. “I want to be with you. I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t love anyone else. You’re you. Nobody else is you. Nobody else could be you.”

  Temptation numbed him momentarily. The temptation to forgive. She’d verbalized his deepest longing; the words he’d yearned to hear all his youth. That in someone’s eyes he was irreplaceable and she was prepared to do everything to hold onto him.

  And that moved him on a very fundamental level.

  “I don’t know whether it’s hit you yet, but the chances of me becoming mayor are slim, which means if you take me back, you’ll end up with a temporarily unemployed, demotivated man on your hands.”

  “And so? I don’t care. Even if you’re jobless, poor and living on social security, even if you don’t want to do anything anymore, even if you hate me, I’ll still love you. I just don’t know how to stop loving you. Trust me, if I knew how to, I’d have done it already,” Kat said.

  Emotion gripped him like an eagle’s claws. He didn’t want to break while talking to her. But unless he hung up now, he was definitely going to.

  “Alex?” She checked to make sure he was still there.

  “Bye.”

  He disconnected and switched his phone off.

  Then smiled alone, like a little four-year-old boy who’d finally found the love he’d been looking for all his life.

  No matter how old one was, the one thing that always remained comforting was home.

  But as Kat walked in today, her childhood home felt devoid of any warmth. The stony silence rendered the brown of the walls positively depressing. Kat took two steps back, reconsidering her decision to come here to heal her hurt.

  But where else could she go? She’d exhausted all her options already.

  She hadn’t spoken to her parents yesterday because she knew they would’ve read the article and she didn’t want them lecturing her when she was so raw. But she was ready for the lecturing now. Better that than silence.

  “Hi, Mom.” Dejected, Kat slumped next to her mother on the couch. Her mom switched off the TV, features tense with unspoken worry.

  “Your sister read me what you wrote about Alex.” Mrs. Cullen’s voice was stoic. “I thought it was very a very good piece.”

  Even a month ago, a compliment like that would have made her happy. At this moment, it felt like another nail in a coffin with too many nails.

  “Praise won’t work.”

  “Then let me give you a hug.” Her mother opened her arms and Kat was in so much despair, she leapt to the warm, comfortable place between her mother’s breasts. Her tears poured hotly and she was a sobbing mess in three seconds.

  Her mom let out a startled gasp. “You’re crying? My girl is crying?”

  Kat couldn’t talk, so she wailed and howled, mumbling emotional gibberish between hiccups.

  Throwing herself against the upholstery, Kat allowed a fresh surge of agony to thrust into her. “My heart feels like someone is grating it with a cheese grater.”

  “Stop, sweetheart. Stop, or I’ll start crying, too.”

  “I can’t stop. I can’t. I mean, knew this would happen. I thought I was prepared for it, but it’s much worse than I thought. It doesn’t stop hurting at all. I… I’ve been working non-stop but I can’t even remember what I was working on.” A half-cry, half-hiccup wrenched out of her throat. “All I know is that I love Alex and I can’t give up on him.”

  When her mom stroked her head, she felt slightly better. “But you’ve already made your choice,” her mom said.

  True. She didn’t have the right to complain. She’d made her choice willingly.

  But she could hurt. She could shatter. She could break. She could cry. She could act half her age, complaining and sulking.

  She still had the right to do that.

  “I hate being irrational. I hate feeling so out of control. I’ll get over it in a week, won’t I?” Kat asked.

  “Can’t say. I never had my heart broken.” Her mother’s hand caressed her forehead.

  That wasn’t the answer she’d wanted to hear. In her already depressed state, it only made her cry more.

  “Keira! Keira! Get me some Kleenex!” Her mom fanned the water welling up in her eyes.

  “Coming… oh Kat’s here? I didn’t hear her come in. OMG. Why does she look like she’s about to die?” Keira dropped the box of tissues on Kat’s lap. “Wait, does she have cancer? Is it too late for treatment? It’s cancer, isn’t it? Her face looks so pale. I read on WebMD that people with leukemia get pale.”

  Kat dabbed away her tears with the back of her sleeve. She didn’t want to scare Keira. “I’m okay. I don’t have cancer.”

  “Is it HIV, then? Max told me there’s a resurgence—”

  Her mother clicked her tongue. “Stop it. Kat’s not sick.”

  “Why does she look sick, then?”

  “I broke up,” Kat interrupted.

  “That’s what this fuss is about? A breakup?” Keira was rolling her eyes. “I mean, isn’t it obvious you’d break up with him after all that happened?”

  At the mention of his name, Kat’s shoulders slumped and her body surrendered to a fresh bout of cries. “I thought you liked Alex.”

  “My first loyalty is still to you, sis. If you don’t like him, I don’t like him anymore. Honestly, if I’d known everything about him, I’d never have gone to his apartment that day and watched Scandal with him.” She flailed her hands.

  “You did what?” Kat asked, forgetting about everything else. Her jaw dropped open.

  “When did this happen?” Her mother fixed a parental death stare on her sister.

  “Uh… is that important now?” Evading, Keira circled her toe on the floor.

  “Are you crazy? How can you go and meet a man you don’t even know?” Kat said. “Where’s your common sense?”

  Keira’s face contorted into an anxious smile. “Oops. I have tennis practice. I need to go.” Keira slunk away before the matter escalated.

  “I’ll deal with her later,” Mrs. Cullen muttered, shaking her head.

  Kat filled her fists with her mother’s skirt and begged with blurry eyes. “Mom, tell me what to do. Should I try again? Or should I give up?”

  “Think for yourself.”

  Kat dragged tissues up and down her cheeks. The tears had left her skin so raw that it ached to run paper over it. “The last thing I can do right now is think. I want you to think for me. What would you say if I was sixteen? Would you let me keep crying and tell me to think for myself?”

  “If you were sixteen, I’d ground you for even trying to date a man like Alex. Drugs, violence, smoking, drinking… I never expected it to be this bad.”

  “Mom, he did those things thirty years ago. His childhood was difficult. He’s not that person anymore. Can we please be compassionate?” Kat protested.

  “He’s made you cry.” Wiping away an errant tear, her mother looked unconvinced. “That doesn’t make me feel very compassionate.”

  “Okay, I get it that you don’t like Alex. But at least pretend to like him while I’m here. Against all logic, it somehow makes me feel better.”

  Alex’s face swam in front of her eyes and a gradual lightness spread over her chest. For the first time amidst this craziness, the memory o
f him didn’t bring suffering.

  “Do you think it’s possible to forget someone you love?”

  “I’m the wrong person to ask. I married my first boyfriend, remember?” Then her mom probably remembered that it was her motherly duty to be comforting, so she softly added, “You got over Michael, though.”

  That comparison wasn’t even right.

  Breaking up with Michael had been nothing like this. They’d parted ways and she’d felt secure in the knowledge that she’d done the right thing. She’d felt free, happy to move on. She felt neither free nor happy now.

  Blotting away the tears on her cheeks, Kat hovered at the cusp of a choice. “If I pester him enough, do you think he’ll give in?”

  Mrs. Cullen shook her head. “You don’t have to do that. You can live without a man.”

  “I know I can.” Kat swished her hair back. “But I can’t live with so much emptiness. And I don’t want to.”

  “You’re acting unlike yourself.”

  “I’m not myself anymore. I changed after I met him. I always thought that being with someone would take away my independence and my individuality, but that is not how it is with Alex. I feel more like myself. I want to save this relationship, because when I imagine everything I could do with him in the future, I feel it would be tragic to never have the opportunity to do those things. Mom, he talks politics. He cooks me breakfast and then even does the dishes afterwards. He vacuums my house after sex and doesn’t want to get married or have kids. And he’s pro-choice and pro-LGBT rights. Where will I find such perfection again?”

  Her mom coughed. Giving Kat a tense smile, her mom said, “I can’t see how you look, but I think I know.”

  “And how do I look?”

  “Happy. And very much in love.”

  Kat frowned at the incorrect appraisal. “I’m not happy. I’m sad. I’ve lost the love of my life, Mom.”

  “You haven’t. Not yet. And you don’t believe you’ve lost him, either. There’s too much hope in your voice when you talk of him.”

  “Is there?”

  “There is.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.”

  Right. She needed to stop making excuses. If she wanted Alex to forgive her, she had to persevere. Even the deepest resistance could be worn down.

  She might’ve failed twice, but third time was the charm, wasn’t it? And tomorrow, she’d have another chance—in the form of a press conference.

  If she could get a few minutes with him, she could do something. Try convincing him one more time that they were made for each other.

  Kat laid a hand on her mother’s. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Anytime.” Her mom planted both her feet on the black Persian rug. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a long discussion with your sister about visiting men she doesn’t know.”

  “I’m going to repeat once again. Telling the truth is a bad idea, Alex. Nobody wants to hear the truth. The public wants to hear lies. Stories. False promises.” Jane had her hands crossed over her chest. “That’s what gets votes.”

  “Well, the truth is what they’re getting.” Alex worked his tie into a half-Windsor knot, growing testy.

  Just let me get this over with.

  He’d thought and re-thought his position for the entire night, and maybe it was the conversation with Kat that had finally pushed him over the edge, but he didn’t want to deceive anybody anymore. He wanted to release his past, release the fear it had bred in him all these years, and whatever the consequences were, he’d deal with them.

  At sixteen, he’d made the wrong choice by not fighting for the truth. Then, at twenty-seven, when he’d contested his first election for the city council, he’d made another bad choice—he’d hidden the past, instead of coming clean—even though he’d sworn to change. He’d decided to take the path of ease rather than honesty. Because honesty was hard. Years later, it was still hard. Being honest could mean losing not just votes, but his entire career. All his glory, all his success, respect, reputation, everything.

  But if Alex had to move away from the past self he detested, he’d have to give up his selfishness. Some things were bigger than him and his ego—things like democracy, transparency, honesty, freedom of the press. As a candidate, as a public servant, as someone who’d been in government for decades, he passionately believed in those values.

  So he should take a stand to preserve them. And if it was at the cost of his personal defeat, so be it.

  Besides, he had faith in the people of the city.

  Maybe it was overconfidence, but he doubted anybody wanted to vote for Stephanopoulos, so he still had a fighting chance.

  “Tell me you at least wrote down what you’re going to say.” The frown lines on Jane’s face creased. She set the mouth of a bottle of water on her lips.

  “I have it all in my head. Don’t worry.” Alex tugged down his collar.

  There had been no time to write a speech at breakfast, especially as he’d made the decision to confess everything only this morning.

  Jane covered her face with her palms. “God save you.”

  Alex only smiled. Inexplicably, he was optimistic.

  “Remember, if anything happens, I have your back.” Jane laid a hand on his shoulder.

  Alex arched his eyebrows. “What’s making you so sympathetic today?”

  Jane gave him a shrug. “Nothing in particular.”

  “It’s something.”

  Since he was adept at reading people, he saw that the words were sitting on her lips, waiting for an occasion to fall out.

  Jane stuck her hands behind her back. “I told David the truth yesterday. About us, about the kids and about their real father.”

  Since she still had her job, Alex assumed that it had not fractured Jane’s relationship with David too badly.

  Turning emotional at the drop of a hat, Jane’s jaw trembled. “And you know what? He forgave me in the blink of an eye. The man I believed to be hard-hearted, mean and unyielding forgave me. Because he loves me. And like you said, love forgives everything.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Alex dug his nails against the side of his thighs.

  The odd flicker of emotion from last night returned. Now that he could look past his hurt ego, Alex had decided to forgive Kat. All said and done, he still loved her.

  It took gumption to be able to stand your ground when personal feelings were involved, as he was learning now.

  Sure, he might’ve been happier if she’d never run the story, but in the long run, he didn’t want to be with a spineless woman. He wanted to be with a woman was prepared to fight for her ideals.

  Softness veiled Jane’s features when she spoke. “People can never be the way you want them to be. I wish David was warmer, less controlling. But I didn’t love him because he was perfect. I married him knowing how faulty he was. But even imperfect people are capable of doing perfect things.”

  Words of truth.

  Kat had never made an issue of his past. She didn’t care for his future. She was ready to work hard on herself, on them. He’d never met a woman who was prepared to work for love. Especially his love.

  In some ways, he had no choice but to forgive. To forgive himself for having made mistakes and to forgive her for showing him his deepest, unconscious fears.

  “If David could forgive me after I lied to him for ten years about his children, I believe anything’s possible.” Jane’s mouth opened in lingering disbelief and she shook her head.

  Dropping his voice, Alex forced a thank you. Not that she deserved it, because she should have told David much earlier. But in delaying, she’d given Kat a chance to hurt him and forced him to confront the hurts and unresolved anger from his childhood.

  “Thanks for telling him. And thanks for leaving me on our wedding day. If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet a wonderful woman.”

  Kat was, without a doubt, the perfect woman for him. She challenged him. She for
ced him to grow and, in her own way, supported him. Being with her was life-changing, in the way only true love could be.

  “And I wouldn’t have met David,” Jane echoed, a sly slant to her lips. “Who is this wonderful woman, by the way?”

  Alex strode forward. “I’ll introduce you to her later.”

  After I patch things up with her.

  A nagging sense of trepidation hung around Kat as she draped one leg over the other. Three cups of coffee had done nothing to wake her up. Squeezed in a crowd of zealous reporters, she was finding it hard to exhale without choking up.

  She was sick and exhausted, not at all in the mood for using her brain. Last night had not been kind on her digestive system. After hours of not eating, she’d thrown up the sandwich that Min-Jung had force-fed her at the office this morning.

  The bright camera lights poked at her sleep-deprived eyes. The noise grated on her tired nerves. She was right in her element, yet she’d never felt so out of it.

  If she was less afraid of foregoing her final chance to win Alex back, she’d have left ages ago and taken the day off. But Alex was priority number one.

  She didn’t even want to consider what would happen if she lost this chance. Lost him.

  It wouldn’t be easy to outgrow months of love. To outgrow him, regain the part of her soul that had found a home in him.

  Maybe she could buy a few cats.

  And become a living cliché, her inner voice mocked.

  Okay, not cats. Fish. They only needed to be fed twice a day and they’d swim around happily the rest of the time. No maintenance. Plus, according to Min-Jung, fishes were supposed to bring good luck. She could use some of that.

  Or maybe a hobby would be a better idea. She’d always wanted to try her hand at photography. A few years down the line, she could be making a side income from it.

  Her wishes stopped cold the minute Alex approached the microphone. The room filled with whispers.

  Though she tried not to be judgmental, Alex looked like he’d tumbled out of a day at the spa and breezed through an Armani store. He was sharp, well-dressed and armed with his killer smile—everything that made Alex Alex, in other words.