Page 22 of Notorious

“Don’t you have any friends who’d want to know what’s going on?”

He scoffs. “I have a lot of acquaintances, and some friends, but there ain’t no one I’d trust telling this to.”

Okay, then.

Johnny’s health crisis is fucking immediate. And it sounds like he has no support system. I find that hard to believe, but sometimes people who are popular are just as lonely as those on the fringe. Or maybe he’s isolated himself.

My phone rings, and I send it to voicemail. I square my shoulders and make a decision. Because of course I still want to be a politician and am going to run my campaign and do all the things I said I was going to do—I’m not giving up on the election—but Johnny’s mine. I couldn’t bear it if this beautiful man killed himself.

And he’s my husband. Whether or not we were in any shape to make that kind of decision last night, whether or not we want it to be true long-term, right now my heart is telling me that means I get to keep him. He’s also my responsibility—morally, and likely legally.

“Did you keep a copy of the video on your phone?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“May I see it?”

Silently, Johnny opens his phone, scrolls, and hands me his phone open to a video. I hit play.

Johnny’s sitting in this hotel room wearing his white cowboy hat and tuxedo from last night. The vase of pink roses is to his side. He clears his throat.

“Hey, y’all. I wanted to hop on this here social media and let all y’all fans know how much I appreciate you. Tonight I got a lifetime achievement award, and I owe it all to you. You gave me a career, and with that career, you made it possible for me to help my sweet mama.” He blinks and looks to the side. “She’s real sick, though. She’s been sick for a long time, and while my sister and I try to help her, it ain’t been enough. I wanted y’all to know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done. Because of you, I was able to buy a life insurance policy years back, and it has enough on it to pay for my mama to get better. I’m gonna take care of her now. Just … thanks to all y’all for everything. Be good to each other. Goodbye.”

My eyes burn, and I feel sick. I hand the phone back to him.

“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly, squeezing his knee.

“Sure.” He says it easily, but he wrinkles his nose.

I look into his pretty eyes, and he slumps in his seat and covers his face with his hands. I want to hold him, but I’m afraid it might not be welcome. “Would you come back to California and stay with me for a while?”

Dropping his hands, Johnny stares at me as if I’ve told him he should be the one running for office. Finally, he says, “Thanks for the invitation. That’s mighty kind of you. But no.”

My phone rings again. “Fuck,” I mutter. “I’m sorry. They aren’t going to go away unless I take this.” Johnny makes a waving, go-ahead motion, and I feel shitty, because he’s more important than my campaign manager. “What?” I hiss. “This better be essential.”

Paige hisses back, “What did you do?”

I stay silent, trying to figure out what, exactly, she’s referring to.

“The news is all over social media. ‘Senatorial candidate marries porn star.’ Really, Kurt? Really?”

Oh, god. But that isn’t the most important issue at the moment.

“We’ll have to deal with it later,” I snap. “I can’t talk right now.”

“Don’t hang up?—”

I hang up.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Johnny. “But?—”

“You don’t have to apologize for answering the phone,” Johnny says. “But I’m not going with you.” His jaw is set.

I scoot nearer to him. “I’m afraid I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Too bad, darlin’. It’s not your decision.”

My hand goes to my hip. “It kind of is my decision, because you’re my fucking husband, and apparently that fact is all over social media.”

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