The Candidate ✓ (Book Two)

Chapter Eighteen

  TW: Emotionally intense

  Smut ;)
19 years ago

  I can't believe this is actually happening. Kyle and I were supposed to be forever. Now- I sit in my car, trying to work up the courage to walk back into our house. A bunch of little things led to where we are  now, because we refused to fight, and it just build up.

  Funny thing is he's being the mature one. I don't deserve him. From day one, he's been the one to apologize immediately whenever it looked like we were going to have a fight and takes most of the blame even though it's usually me being stubborn and stupid. That's why I'm here.

  Our relationship is not perfect- no matter how it looks to anybody observing from the outside. We both overwork ourselves nowadays- so we don't see each other nearly as much as a married couple living in the same house should, but we always make up for it later- if you know what I mean. He has certain habits that drive me insane- and I imagine I do too.

  But I love him- god I love him so much. The first time I saw him on that train- he was fifteen and so was I. I was originally attracted to him because I could tell he and I had the same intellectual capacity.  He was sitting just a few feet away on the long bench lining the entire train, studying in a work uniform. I couldn't see from that angle so I scooted closer- and then I could clearly see his face too.

  I hadn't believed in love at first sight until that moment. He had a look of determination on his face- one that still hasn't left. He always looks like he's concentrating on something- even more so when he has a speech or is working- but that was the first time I saw it. At the same time, he looked kind.

  I remember glancing over his shoulder and seeing that he was mixing derivatives up with something else. I also remember that I wouldn't have been surprised if he started having a nose bleed from how hard he was concentrating, so I helped him out a bit. He was grateful- said calculus was one of the things he still struggled with. I didn't blame him- I knew it wasn't easy for most people- especially since he went straight from normal classes to ones two grades ahead of where he should be by annoying his school's guidance office until they let him in. He's had a change of heart after freshman year- decided he was going to make it out of that neighborhood if he had a stress heart attack while doing it. He did not have a back up plan because he knew what he would do with his life.

  I'd never experienced his type of kindness before. He was realistic yet understanding- told people what they needed to hear and not what they wanted to hear- and that hasn't changed to this day. He was also a great listener, though it took me almost two years to fully tell him about my sperm donor of a dad.

  When we met I was broken. Skinny because I wasn't eating out of depression- not thinking about my future and avoiding going home to my mother at all costs. He and his mother saved me, as cheesy as it sounds. They made me eat- made me spend the night on days when I didn't feel safe at my mothers until the day I finally reached a breaking point with her and moved into their house. One day I saw an ad that the FBI was short on interns- and that they'd pay anybody who applied within a certain time period. For the time period- the early 2000's, that was a big fucking deal. The description wasn't exciting- but I didn't care. I'd run out of things to sell to contribute money so we weren't evicted, and I needed a job.

  I was one of the first people to bolt straight to New York's headquarters, so naturally- I got one of the spots. I brought paper case files back and forth between offices- got coffee, picked up delivery and filled in for the Secretary when she was out. I'd like to think I was pretty damn good at that internship- and it was the first time I really started to consider my future in a serious way.