Page 79 of Bona Fide

“Wade...please, for the love of God, fire me.”

“Are you out of your ever-fucking mind?” he fumes. “I’m not going to abandon you. I’ll give this all up right now. I don’t give a shit, Reagan, I love you. You’re—”

“Please,” I beg, my whole body starting to tremble in return. I can’t bear to hear him bare his soul when he’s worked so hard to get to where he is.

“I don’t deserve to be here anyway,” he continues. “As governor. I bought those votes. I was in a dark place, knew I was never going to fucking win, but I needed something. Anything to make me feel like my whole world wasn’t spiraling after Demi...after the shit that went down. I don’t belong here, I didn’t earn it.”

“But you’re there,” I quip. “And you’ve done so much good for the community and—”

“I’m not a good man. But I’m turning into one. Because of you.” I violently shake my head to keep his words from sinking into my brain.

Before all of this, I would’ve been able to appreciate them. It probably would make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. However, we’re here, too much happened and now I need to play cleanup.

“I need you to become president,” I cajole. “ I need you to be what you’re supposed to be.”

“How do you know what I’m meant to be? Have you ever thought that maybe I’m here because I was supposed to finally meet you. That some greater power decided to cut me a fucking break for once.”

My heart feels as though a hand is in my chest and slowly ripping it out. I can feel every tug and squeeze, making me feel dizzy as I grip the edge of my couch for stability.

I need to let him go.

There is no place for me in his world—there never was. We’re both in denial if we thought this would ever come to light.

He’s meant for big things, huge commitments, and responsibility. I belong here, with normal people and not-so-normal problems. Wanting Wade stemmed everything and, as much as I want to belong to him, he could never be mine.

No matter if Demi existed or not.

He would belong to the country. He would always be a servant of the people, always in the spotlight, a topic of conversation at people’s dinner tables and social media.

“Shelton,” Wade coos gently from the other side of the phone. “I promise that I will make things right. My forever is you, I won’t let anyone mess that up. I told you that I’d never let you go, and I meant it. Down to every vowel and consonant.”

“There is nothing you can do to—” A mirthless chuckle resounds on the other side.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know what I’m fully capable of when I put my mind to something.”

“Wade.” I force my tone to add some steel to it. “This isn’t a game. I’m being labeled as a slut who sleeps with other people’s husban—”

Well, shit.

I am a slut that sleeps with other people’s husbands.

“You’re not a fucking slut,” Wade storms. I bow my head into my chest, not realizing I said it outloud. “I’m not fucking married. That woman is not my fucking wife.” I roll my eyes at his naivety and the contradiction of his words.

But I’m not going to argue for an hour about it on the phone because I know what I have to do—what I need to do.

“I’m coming by tonight,” Wade announces. “After the charity event, I’m going to be there.”

“You need to stay away fro—”

“Don’t tell me to abide by the bullshit and not be there for you. I’d fucking kill someone first before I’d let you handle this on your own. I don’t think you fully understand or heard what I said, Reagan. I’m in love with you. I’d do anything for you, give you anything you fucking wanted. Please don’t shut me out, I can’t deal with that.”

My head starts to throb harder, and I can’t deal with this. His vulnerability that I’m about to shut down. The hurt in his tone because he’s just as upset as me.

His love—I want to bottle it up and keep it forever. Because it’s the only place I can have it.

“I’m only going to say this one more time,” I state slowly, my heart rate accelerating. “I don’t want to be with you.” My gut sprains. “I don’t love you.” A sharp pain hits my chest. “I don’t want to be in your world” My final words come off with barely any oxygen leaving my lungs. “And I sure as fuck don’t want your help. You’ve done enough.”

Silence fills the other side of the line, so I take my opportunity to keep going.

“I need you to have Emmy fire me in a public statement so that it shows that you’re still strong. That you won’t deal with people that are allegedly like me.”

“If I fire you, it means I believe it. And I don’t.”

“I know you don’t,” I mutter. “But it honestly doesn’t matter if—”

“If you kneel down now, it’ll show weakness. We’re cut from the same cloth when it comes to fighting for a way to win. A way to be free. Just...give me a minute to think about all this. I won’t respond to the press, I have time.”

“You don’t need time,” I reply. “If you don’t fire me within the next hour, I’ll walk out this door and announce it my fucking self.”

Then I hang up.

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