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Congresswoman Blake… No. Congresswoman Taylor.
He resumes packing and demands I wait on the couch with the makeshift ice pack. As I’m posting a photo on social media that I took of the sunset last night, a text alert from an unknown number appears at the top of the screen. I click on it, and my breath catches as I read.
Unknown
Secrets always have a way of coming out, Ms. Taylor.
Chapter 34
Jaclyn
ONE WEEK LATER
“There’s…another one,” my assistant, Rose, announces almost singing, placing a single sapphire rose on my desk.
“Are you sure they aren’t for you? A rose for Rose?” I chuckle.
“This one has a note.” She clears her throat. “For my beautiful wife. Miss you, princess.” Rolling my eyes, she gives me a knowing look, handing it to me. “Last time I checked, I’m single. This one’s all yours,Mrs. Blake.”
I’ve successfully avoided Alex since being back in D.C., and with Chris preparing for his big announcement, I’ve hardly seen him. I’ve been busying myself, focusing my attention on the upcoming gala. Deep down, I’ve known these daily roses were from Alex, and this note is the nail in the coffin.
The longer I’m away from him, the more the brain fog diminishes. My desperation for him—my heart rippingfrom my chest at hearing his name mentioned—has subsided significantly. Since all of my plans have been derailed, I need to make the best of everything, and that includes forgetting about Alex. Even though he’s making it incredibly difficult with the flower deliveries.
I offer a sweet smile. “Chris is such a romantic.”
Rose clips the step at an angle and places it in the vase on my desk, joining the other five. “If this is going to be a daily ritual, perhaps we should invest in a few more vases?”
“I’m sure he’ll give up after a dozen.” If it were Chris, he absolutely would. Alex? No. Alex will ensure I consistently have a dozen fresh cornflower roses in a vase.
I have to end this. Now.
The moment Rose leaves my office, I snatch my phone from my desk and type out a text to him.
Thank you for the roses.
But you need to stop.
Alex
Make me.
I choke on my own breath, stifling my laugh. Serves me right for trying to negotiate with a politician—he’s a man-child.
I’m serious.
So am I.
As I take a moment to contemplate my next move, another message comes through.
I won’t apologize for doting on my wife, Jaclyn.
I’m not yours.
The lie hurts to type, but it has to be this way.
Are you sure?
You’re certainly not married to Chris.
