I noticed the fatigue on his face, though. The slight purple circles under his eyes that aren’t usually there. And my stomach dropped with guilt from knowing it was my fault.
The broadcast switches to analysts doing post-debate coverage, and I close the cover to my laptop, grab my phone, and send Jude a text.
You were amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.
My pride in him is only matched by my disappointment in myself. I’ve been thinking nonstop about things, and I’ve found some clarity that makes me wish I never would have told Jude what I did.
I put him in an impossible situation. Made him feel like he has to choose his career or our marriage, and he’s right—I did it at the worst possible time.
Never did I expect to find myself out of a job. That, and my mom’s unexpected cancer scare, left me feeling unmoored for the second time in my life.
The first time was after learning about my father’s affair and secret family. That bombshell made me realize I wasn’t pursuing a career in politics for myself, but for my father. And in an instant, he became someone I no longer cared about impressing. I realized who he was to me—a hero who sacrificed time with his family to make others’ lives better—was just a façade.
I’d been working behind the scenes in politics since, and it wasn’t until Andrea Matisse offered me a job that I even considered doing anything else.
I walked into my mom’s kitchen and opened the freezer, going right for the Cherry Garcia. Sitting down on a counter barstool, I opened it and mined a good first bite while considering my situation.
What do I have if I no longer have my career? Who am I if I’m not a tenacious, can-do advocate for bipartisanship.
I’m Reagan Titan. Wife. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Hopefully one day, mother. I love the beach. I make amazing chocolate chip cookies. I never tire of cheesy 90s movies. I’m kind of a whiz at trivia. I’m a champion for women’s rights. And I’m wound inextricably with the man who is my best friend, lover, and life partner.
I don’t know where the next chapter of my life will take me. But I know Jude will be in that chapter, as he will be in every chapter after.
Do I yearn to be a governor’s wife? Not especially. But I’m deeply in love with a man who stands a great chance of becoming a governor in twelve days.
My mom comes into the kitchen, her hair wrapped in a towel and a white bathrobe secured around her waist. She grabs a spoon from a kitchen drawer and sits down next to me, silently sharing my ice cream. We’re getting close to the bottom before I finally speak.
“It’s hard for me not to know what direction I want to go,” I say softly.
“Focus on what youdoknow.”
“I love Jude. I want to be there for him—whatever that means. He stands in Sephora with me for as long as it takes me to pick out what I want, and he never complains. He rubs my back and lets me be irrational when I have PMS. He’s my person, you know?” My voice breaks with emotion on the last part.
“You’re his person too.”
“I should’ve been there tonight. I let him down, and I didn’t even have a good reason.”
She puts an arm around me. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to you. It doesn’t matter what life I want for you—it matters what life you want for yourself.”
“I wanthim. I wish we could have more time together than we do, and a simpler life, but Jude…he needs to do this work. He does it for veterans and people who need jobs. And he’s good at it. He listens to people and then does his best to make decisions that are best for everyone. He’s honest.”
“We need more like him.”
I look down at the empty ice cream container. “I need to go be with my husband. I owe him twelve days of the hardest campaigning I’ve ever done.”
“I owe you an apology, Reagan. Jude is not like your father. Your life with him is not the same as my life with your father. I want you two to make your own decisions, and it warms my heart to see how much you love each other.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She hugs me close. “Better go book that flight.”
I nod and head to the bedroom to do just that. I hope Jude can forgive his normally decisive, headstrong wife for being flaky and unsupportive these last few days.
26
Jude
My campaign bussmells like coffee and unshowered bodies. It’s been rank for the past few days as we all bust our asses heading into the homestretch.
