Page 11

As the night wears on, the weight of what I need to say grows heavier, like a stone settling deeper into my chest. The laughter that once filled the room is now a faint echo in the back of my mind, drowned out by the rising tide of responsibility and dread.

I steal a glance at Remi, her carefree smile illuminating the space between us, and I wonder how I’m supposed to break the spell without shattering her in the process.

My hands fidget beneath the table, clenching and unclenching in an attempt to steady nerves that refuse to cooperate.

The words I have to deliver taste bitter already, rehearsed in my mind a dozen times but never sounding quite right.

Boone and Tripp are no help. Boone’s smirk is a silent taunt, and Tripp, though attempting to mask it, is visibly entertained by my discomfort.

They both know the truth of what’s coming, but it’s clear they’re leaving the dirty work to me.

I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as I look back at Remi.

She doesn’t realize the expectation hanging in the air, the quiet conclusion we’ve already reached.

She’s still caught up in the ease of the evening, oblivious to the shift I can no longer avoid.

I envy her, in some ways—her ability to live in the moment, untethered by the burdens of appearances and power plays.

But my life doesn’t allow for such indulgences.

Clearing my throat, I open my mouth to start, but the words catch, snagged on the invisible thread of tension, pulling tighter with each passing second.

Her eyes flicker to me, curious and unguarded, and I feel the weight of it all—the expectations of my family, the campaign, the image I’ve been so carefully curating.

It swirls around me, a storm that I can’t let her step into.

I force myself to sit straighter, steeling my resolve.

This isn’t about what I want or even what feels right in the moment.

It’s about the bigger picture, the path I’ve chosen, the responsibilities I’ve taken on.

But knowing that doesn’t make this any easier.

My voice feels like someone else’s as I finally break the fragile silence, knowing that what I say next will change everything.

“Now that we’ve had dinner, we can discuss something else. You are aware that on Select-A-Mate, once you reply to a message, you are matched in the system.”

She nods. “Yes, I am aware.”

“Okay, right, then. Well, we need you to inform Select-A-Mate that we are not a match. Please tell them that we amicably split and all of us want to be rematched with others. We will tell them the same.”

“I don’t understand.” Her eyes flick between all of us. “Didn’t we have a good time?”

“It was great, but we still cannot be matched with you. Do you know who I am?”

She thinks for a moment. “Should I?”

Her question throws me off. Tripp covers up his laughter with a cough. Boone gives me a snarky side eye. Both are practically vibrating with hilarity at the situation. I, however, am not.

“I am running for Mayor of Cedar Hill.”

She remains blank-faced.

“My father is the senator of our state,” I further explain, watching as her eyes stay the same. Uninterested.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” she asks, throwing me completely off guard.

“Well, you see, I have a certain image.” I don’t give a fuck about my image, but the masses sure would.

At this, she sits back in her chair with a smirk. “Let me guess, I’m not part of that image.”

Sorrowfully, I shake my head. She’s a really great woman, but she’s not the woman my campaign manager will approve of. None of my campaign team will approve of her, really. They all see me with a Jackie Kennedy type, all svelte and poised. She’s none of those things. She’s wild, untamed.

I can’t allow that to happen. No matter how terrific she is, I cannot allow her be subjected to the cruelty of my world.

Instead of giving me points in the poll, she would only deduct them.

She’s not the type of woman that you take to galas and political events because I don’t want her to have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

She’s the type you take to a concert and get lost in the music as you watch her free spirit soar.

Unfortunately, she’s not what this pack needs.

I shake my head regretfully. Fuck, this hurts so badly. “No. You are not part of that image.” She’s exactly what I want, though, and it pisses me off that I can’t have her.

She shifts in her seat. “Well, I could be if you’d give me the chance to prove myself.”

It seems like she’s one of those types. She’s not going to let us go without a fight. Admirable, and I wish we could do the same.

Her aura relaxes me, and I even find myself smiling and joking around with her. That is something I have not done in quite some time.

However, she deserves better than be mated to a pack where she would have to change who she is.

It's going to be hard to prove to Select-A-Mate that it was a mutual split if she’s determined to prove herself. She won’t go to them as we would and explain the situation. She seems like the type to do it or bust a gut, and that doesn’t bode well for our pack.

We’re going to have to make it to where she wants out. As much as I hate to do this, my pack will have to ensure that she’s the one who cuts ties with us.

By any means necessary.