I’m taken aback. For a few seconds, I can’t think of anything to say. This is so unlike my driven, ambitious wife.
“Why didn’t you say anything last night?” I ask her. “We could’ve talked about this.
There’s a smile in her voice as she says, “We were kind of focused on other stuff.”
“You should’ve said something. Why do I feel like you were scared to tell me all this?”
She exhales deeply. “Because what I want, I can’t have.”
“Why not?”
“Jude.” Her voice is edged with irritation. “You know why. If you win this race, you’ll be working your ass off every day. We’ll have security details. It’s the opposite of what I’m talking about. I want you to stop being everyone’s champion and just be…mine.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. I can’t get over my shock at what she’s saying. I’ve been asking her to start a family with me for three years now, and she’s finally saying she wants to. But she’s right—as governor, I can’t give her the simple life she wants.
“I need some time to think about things,” I say, quickly adding, “but I don’t mean us. I mean the rest of it. I love you and plan to be with you until I’m an old, grouchy bastard.”
She laughs softly. “I’m not asking you to drop out of the race, baby. You’ve worked too hard for it. I’m just telling you why I need to be here right now. I just have to resign myself to what I have instead of what I wish I had.”
What I wish I had.Her words are like a knife to my chest. When I promised that her happiness would be my life’s goal on our wedding day, I meant it. And the thing she wants is so easy—more of me. More of us.
But she’s right. I won’t make empty promises about date nights and vacations after the election. Being the governor is a demanding job. I’ll always make time for her, but not the way she’s telling me she wants.
I won’t be able to make myself unrecognizable in a crowd. I can’t say I’ll walk in the door at dinnertime every evening.
“Let me think on things, okay?” I say.
“Okay. But, Jude—I think it’s me who needs to do the thinking.”
“What do you mean?” My blood pumps hot and fast. “Don’t say you’re thinking about not being with me, because that’s not an option.”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking about, honestly. I’m still processing all of this.”
I sigh heavily. “Your timing couldn’t be worse. I’m two weeks out from the election, in a dead heat, and now I have to wonder if my wife’s leaving me or not.”
“Jude.”
“Reagan.”
“I’m not going anywhere right now, okay?”
I scowl. “I feel so much better, thanks.”
“Let’s sleep on things and talk tomorrow.”
I mutter a goodnight and hang up. She might be able to sleep tonight, but I sure as hell won’t.
25
Reagan
Jude stridesacross the stage and shakes hands with Gloria Rush, the Democratic candidate for governor. I feel a tug in my chest. His confident smile and his polished, dark suit with a red tie remind me of days gone by.
I just watched his final pre-election debate on my laptop. I’m sitting on the bed in my mom’s guest room, legs crossed, wearing a gray tank top and jean shorts.
I should be wearing something much nicer right now. I should be backstage at the debate, about to hug my husband and congratulate him on crushing that debate.
He was strong but compassionate; optimistic but realistic. The debate showcased all his best qualities.
