Quiet Angel by Prescott Lane

Author:Prescott Lane [Lane, Prescott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: self-published
Published: 2015-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Gage undid his tie and tossed it on the floor. The best day of his life, the best night of his life, had turned to shit. Layla reached for his hand, as he reached for Pippa. He put the dog on her leash and went downstairs for a walk. He needed some space, a moment of calm, to think through what she said, and everything leading up to it. I can’t marry you. . . .

He took Pippa to a small area of grass and watched her piss all over it. It seemed fitting. The rest of what Layla said—in a month—didn’t matter. The first four words were what mattered. Her doubts were what mattered. In a few hours, they were supposed to fly out to see his mother, so he could introduce Layla as his fiancée. Now he wasn’t even sure she was anymore.

Layla approached quietly from behind. “If it’s not because of the campaign, why are you in such a hurry to marry me?”

He turned to face her, still in the ice blue dress, her feet bare. “It has nothing to do with the campaign. I told you that. I just want to be with you, to start our life together.”

“Is it because you’re scared? Don’t rush to marry me because you’re scared.”

“You think I want to marry you because I’m scared?”

“Yes, I think you’re scared of losing me. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit that’s part of it.”

“No, it’s not!” he barked. “Besides, you promised you wouldn’t run off again.”

“I’m not. I’m right here.”

“Bullshit. You are fighting this, us, at every turn—like there’s some rulebook about how long a couple has to date, how long an engagement should be. I hope that when we’re 90 years old, I’m still learning things about you. I hope you can still surprise me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to marry you,” she said, a few tears beginning to fall. “It’s just that girl tonight, the one who spoke. She had so much courage. I could never do that.”

“No one is asking you to.”

She curled her toes in the grass. “If you run for office, I might have to.”

“That’s what this is about?”

“Gage, you have no idea what it was like to talk to your godfather. It made me scared.”

He threw his arms around her. “Then I won’t run. Decision made.”

“But if your dream. . . .”

“No dream I have is bigger than the one I have for us.”

“But if this is something you want, then I don’t want to be the reason you don’t do it. I just can’t give speeches about what happened to me. I can’t be some new face of child sexual abuse.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I don’t want some reporters or opponents digging into my past.”

“I’ll protect you as much as I can. I’ll probably punch anyone who brings it up.”

“My past could hurt you. It’s dark and ugly and. . . .”

“Stop,” he said, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Running for office was my dad’s dream for me.

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