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“I hate you,” I said through a false smile, the words trembling just a little. I hoped he didn’t notice.
His smile was pleasant but his eyes were icy cold. “I don’t know why I thought you’d leave our past out of this. You—”
“Not everything is about you, Duke. Grow up.”
“You first.” He released my hand and turned to wave again as his parents came out on his side of the stage and my family came out of the other.
They were all hugs and congratulations, a blur around me. I turned to the crowd again as they dispersed, waving at a few people I knew. And when the building was nearly empty, I turned to my family, my face stone.
“I need a minute alone,” I said, the trembling triple what it was a few seconds ago.
Their smiles fell. Mama nodded and said something as I hurried away. Jo looked like she was about to go after Duke, but Grant stayed her with a hand on her arm and a whisper.
I saw nothing else thanks to the sheet of furious tears I desperately hoped I could keep in place. I wound my way through a maze of curtains and an open door that led to a second, smaller theater room that looked like it hadn’t been used in a decade. I listened for any fool who might’ve followed me, but thankfully no one was that dumb. I stopped, panting, leaning against the wall until my head was tilted up to the ceiling in the dark. The musty velvet curtains caught my heaving breath, then the hiccup of a sob that I tried to stifle with my hand.
I’d planned on him slinging barbs, hoping what I slung back at him would cut deeper. I should have known better. Everyone knew politically programmed robots have no feelings, and I was cursed with too many.
Coming from anyone else, I could have rolled with the public debate, no problem. Coming from him? The spite and certainty in his words had opened a long scarred wound, forever weakened in that stitched-together spot he’d left me with so long ago.
I hated feeling vulnerable even more than I hated crying.
A long, steady stride sounded from the direction I’d escaped. A man’s stride.
Instantly, I fell silent, clapping both hands over my mouth. Maybe he wouldn’t find me. Maybe it’s not him. Maybe—
“Poppy?” Duke said quietly, followed by the whisper of shuffling fabric.
My eyes darted around, looking for a way out. It was too quiet—if I shifted to take off my shoes and creep out, he’d hear me.
“Poppy, I know you’re in here.”
It was pitch dark but for a glimmer of faraway light in the direction of the doorway I’d come through. There was no way he’d find me here if I was very still and very silent.
I felt the shift of air when the curtain opened and he stepped through. I could smell his soap and something else, something familiar I couldn’t put my finger on. Because despite all my barking about him being a stranger, on an elemental level, I did know Duke. And he knew me. I could feel it in the way he touched my arm, tenderly wrapping his big hand around my bicep.
“Leave me alone, Duke,” I managed, notably sounding like shit.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Please go.”
A pause. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Come back? Run for mayor? Left in the first place? Take your pick.”
“It’s just politics,” he said quietly.
“Maybe for you. This town is my whole life, Duke. Insult me all you want. Humiliate me in front of everyone. I don’t care. Because you are wrong for the job. And how dare you suggest I was talking about what happened when we were eighteen. Nobody cares anymore, least of all me!”
I felt him move closer, aware of every curve of his body, even in the dark. “You don’t care anymore?”
“I never even think about you,” I lied.
“I think about you all the time.”
Stunned, I stilled. “I’ve had enough of you for today.” When I turned toward the exit, he squeezed my arm gently.
“I don’t want to keep hurting you.”
“And yet.”
“That passion you think I don’t have? I’ve been hanging onto the bridle, white knuckled, since I saw you in city hall. And I’m losing my grip.”
“I hate you,” I shot.
He ignored me. “You really don’t think I’ve considered what my life would have been if I’d stayed? You think I left and forgot about you? Forgot about our town?”
My pulse drummed in my ears. “Well… yes.”
“You’re wrong.” He inched closer, his voice tight with frustration. “You think you’ve got it all figured out. I hate to break it to you, but you have no fucking clue.”
“What am I supposed to think?” I asked, my throat tight. “You left me here, Duke.”
“If I’d come home, I wouldn’t have been able to leave you again.”
