The most obvious and important question—do I report this?
It’s the easiest one to answer.
No. I will never turn Benchley in, even though I’m an attorney and an officer of the court—and fuckinghell, I’m head of the Executive-fucking-Branch of the goddamned US government. DOJ and FBI.
There is no statute of limitation on premeditated murder in Florida.
Still, no.
If word got out I knewabout this crime, this conspiracy, and didn’t tell anyone, it could lead to my impeachment if I’m still in office, or my prosecution once I’m a civilian again.
This is a fifty-one-year-old secret that has lain dormant since before my birth.
I owe my verylifeto this same secret.
Now I understand why my mother diligently drilled certain truths into my head about trust and secrets and weakness.
No greater good is served by telling anyone, and only pain would be left in the wake.
And, yeah, I’m in a reelection battle. This revelation would completely derail my campaign.
Even without the knowledge that he’s my father…
Istillwouldn’t tell. It’s selfish of me, but no way in hell will I hurt Michelle Evans. I wouldn’t want to hurt Susa, or Carter, or their sons. Or Owen, who’d be harmed,as well, when the insane press coverage would no doubt kick up ant hills that should remain undisturbed.
This secret is about far more than myself and Benchley.
This secret’s revelation would destroy innocent lives.
“Momma never told me that about him,” I whisper, barely able to say it. “She said the reason she never remarried was she loved him.”
He sadly shakes his head. “No, sweetie. Shenever remarried because she felt guilty as hell. I don’t mean about killing him, either. She blamed herself for what I did with her so she could have you. She was older than me by a lot, seventeen years. I maintained that if it took doingthatto get her away from that bastard…well, that’s guilt Icanhandle. It wasn’t like she was in love with me. She was desperate to have a baby, because ofher age, and I wanted to help her. Back then, a single mom, even an attorney, wouldn’t have been able to keep a good-paying job, much less get elected. But a new mom who’s awidow? Who supposedly struggled for years to have a baby, and then loses her husband after getting pregnant?”
“That’s political gold,” I whisper, once again chilled to my core.
He slowly nods. “Yeah. But shelovedyou. Shewantedyou, honey. I’m not going to lie, Michelle and I had been together about ten years, at that point, and trying to have a baby. We were starting to talk about adoption.” He shakes his head. “I’m not proud of it, but I wanted to father a baby, even one I couldn’t claim. I knew I couldn’t claim you—that your mother wouldn’t have let me—but it was somethingIneeded.”
He meets my gaze again.“Everything I’ve ever done,” he quietly says, “has always been to try to help people. Maybe I didn’t go about things in the right way. I look back at political positions I’ve held, and in retrospect, SusieJo is right about some things. I’ll admit that. About why she left the GOP. There are ways I could’ve done a lot better.
“Marlene always called me out when she thought I was wrong. I miss ourdebates. I miss working with her. She was a good woman, and she was an amazing mom. She loved you so much, and I love you. I always have, even when I couldn’t tell you. I’ve always loved you, and I’m so damned proud of you. I wish I could say, ‘That’s my girl,’ but I know I can’t. Because I won’t hurt you like that, and I can’t hurt Michelle or Susa or Susa’s babies.
“I’ll never forget gettingto hold you after you were born. I was in Tallahassee, and Michelle was at work. It was me, and your momma, and you. I held you and promised you I’d always love you, that I would do whatever I could for you, and that I was sorry I couldn’t tell the world who I really was to you.”
Somewhere in my photo albums is a picture of me as a newborn, cradled in a much younger Benchley Evans’ arms, hiseyes closed and forehead touching mine and almost looking like he was crying.
Mom used to joke he actually sneezed in my face. For some reason, that never…feltright, but I had no reason not to believe her.
Now, I know the truth.
Life is short. Ascending to the presidency means sometimes embracing moral ambiguity, or even greater-good positions.
I amalivebecause of this man.
He wrote lettersof recommendation for me when I applied to college and law school, and now I understand why his letters always felt different from the others, even though by then I wasn’t as close to him and Michelle as Momma was.
Why his letters of recommendation felt more personal.
More loving, without saying as much.
