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I cannot lose control like that again, for Odette’s sake as well as mine. I have to keep my feelings in check. Odette and I have become friends, and I’m comfortable with our relationship. If we can keep it that way, this marriage won’t get any more complicated than it already is.

Did I like kissing her? Obviously. Would I mind sharing a bedroom with her? Definitely not.

But that’s not the purpose of our arrangement.

Once I’m thoroughly cooled off, I throw on some basketball shorts and a casual v-neck and walk back out to the living room. Odette is sitting on the sofa, still in her dress clothes.

She looks up at me, her mouth twisted like she’s not sure whether she wants to say what’s on her mind or not. After a few seconds, she starts. “So… that was a very… convincing kiss.”

I run both hands through my wet hair. “Sorry about that... I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

She looks down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. “Don’t apologize. I mean, millions of Washington Journal readers will see the photos, so we needed to be convincing, right? And PDA is in the contract, after all.” She looks up and meets my gaze.

“Right. We needed to be convincing. For the public.”

Odette rises, still looking a little uncomfortable, and slowly walks back to her bedroom.

I stop myself from following her. There’s nothing I can say to ease the awkwardness. I crossed a line today and I can’t let myself do that again. It wouldn’t be fair to Odette.

Even if it’s not real, I can’t bear the idea of having a miserable marriage like my own parents, which is exactly what would happen if we let our feelings get involved. She would quickly realize how career-focused I am and see that I can’t offer her the love and attention she deserves. Jen discovered that about me, just like my mom discovered that about my father.

Deep down, I think what truly scares me is that I can actually picture myself caring less about my goals and more about making Odette happy. And after everything I’ve sacrificed for my congressional dreams, that’s simply not an option.

Over the next two weeks, I put some space between Odette and myself. She seems tense around me. I thought we had resolved things when we talked about the kiss and both agreed that it was part of the contract, but still, our conversations are stilted and her answers to my questions are short and clipped. At least she has continued helping me with campaign tasks and showing up for events. Hopefully, once Odette sees that I can control myself, the tension will fade and we can go back to the friendly, casual relationship we’ve enjoyed thus far.

Tonight I have the opportunity to speak at a charity for immigrants, which is a welcome distraction from the tension between Odette and I. Odette even helped me write my speech, which was the most time we have spent together since our photoshoot make-out session.

The immigration charity banquet is at a beautiful catholic church in town, where the organizers clearly went all-out with tonight’s event. The tables are draped in white linen and feature beautiful ceramic centerpieces made by local immigrants. They’re even available for purchase, and all the proceeds go to charity.

As I walk onto the stage to give my speech, I see the crowd of people seated at their circular tables in the large banquet room, their eyes fixed on me. But it’s not their eyes I’m looking for. I find Odette in the crowd, her twinkling emerald eyes drawing me in for a few seconds. It reminds me of when our eyes locked at our high school reunion so many months ago.

I blink a few times to refocus, then step up to the mic. “Thank you all so much for welcoming my wife and I here tonight. It’s an honor to speak on a topic so close to my heart.”

I begin my speech by sharing my grandparent’s story. Then I roll into the part Odette wrote with me.

“My great-great-grandparents were just two of many immigrants from around the world who came to the United States. Our immigrants set our country apart from others. With their unique experience, they have shaped our culture and enriched our American entrepreneurial spirit.

However, our immigration system is flawed. As your congressman, I plan to introduce a bill that will not only make American borders more secure but will also issue proper documentation to undocumented immigrants currently residing in the United States. This would secure their ability to gain citizenship and allow them to stay in our great country along with their families.

Streamlining the citizenship process for our immigrants will help our economy as well as encourage others to come into our country legally. We cannot survive without the indomitable strength and pioneering gifts of immigrants. Thank you very much.”

The crowd stands and applauds. I can’t help but look at Odette with a grin as I exit the stage. Several people come to shake my hand afterward and Odette joins me at the front of the room. Together we continue shaking hands and mingling with everyone.

An hour later we’re about to leave just as Leonard and Emma Johnson, the organization’s founders, stop us.

“What a fantastic speech! Thank you so much for being our guest speaker this evening,” Mrs. Johnson says as she shakes my hand, then turns her attention toward Odette. “And you must be Mrs. Windell.”

Odette smiles graciously as she loops her arm through mine. “Yes. I have the honor of standing by Madden’s side through his campaign. I can confirm how passionate he is about this cause.”

“Oh, I could tell just by his heartfelt speech!” Mrs. Johnson beams.

“Hearing him talk about his great-great-grandparents was just one of the things that made me fall in love with him.” Odette bats her lashes at me.

To anyone who doesn’t know her, she’s simply oozing with charm as she dotes on me. But I hear the sarcasm and see the angry twinkle in her eyes. Our stupid, wonderful, idiotic, amazing kiss has apparently taken us from friends to co-workers.

No, that’s not right. The kiss didn’t; I did.

On our way home from the charity banquet, Odette is deathly quiet.