Chapter 191

The day of the debate, Miles stands in my bedroom, changing into the suit he’d left hanging on the door the night before, so it wouldn’t get wrinkles. I’ve already taken my daughters to my parents’ house.

The kids were not thrilled about the arrangement. They think they’re grandparents are stuffy and their house is boring. They aren’t wrong, but Mom and Dad are the only ones I feel I can trust right now. They know Edward and his dangers, and won’t let him hurt their grandkids the way he hurt me.

Mom and Dad, honestly, weren’t thrilled about the arrangement, either. They don’t know what to do with children. They never really did, but as they aged, their impatience for youth has gotten worse. But the girls are old enough now to know how to behave. Mostly, they just want to play their portable game systems or read their books and be left alone.

I think it will work out fine. Though I have them all set to ring on my phone if any of them call me, even if the phone is otherwise silenced.

No calls yet. It’s only been an hour, but I think that’s a good sign.

Miles finishes buttoning his shirt. With his collar turned up, he grabs his striped tie off the hanger and drapes it around his neck.

Spotting my opening, I slip closer and take the ends of his tie, tying it for him. His hands drop at once, allowing me. He even lifts his chin to give me more room. A satisfied little smirk quirks up the corner of his mouth.

“What’s that smile about?” I ask, mostly because I want to hear him admit he likes when I take care of him like this.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

The comment hangs in the air between us. It deserves a reply, but I don’t know what to say to it. My first instinct is to say something sweet, like Me too, or something witty and teasing, like Can’t have that. I want to keep you on your toes.

Instead, I say nothing, my thoughts too troubled by the uncertainty of a future between Miles and I. Things are great as they are right now, but we are still a secret. Not to mention that what we are, we haven’t defined.

It feels far more than the friends with benefits we used to be. But at the same time, I’m not sure I can call him my boyfriend. He cares about me, as I do for him, but the depth of those feelings remains uncertain – for both of us.

Sometimes I love him, and think he loves me. Other times, I hold myself back. When he’s president, he isn’t going to want a thirty-something hanging around with him. He’d be the most eligible bachelor in the world. He could have anyone that he wants. Princesses, movie stars, celebrities… No one would be out of reach for him.

Why in the world, when he could have any of that, would he settle for a thirty-something former-housewife like me?

No, as much as I may occasionally hope for otherwise, our relationship is temporary. The more I keep that in mind, the less difficult it will be in the end.

I hope.

I finish tying Miles’s tie, ignoring the flash of disappointment that crosses his face when I don’t respond to his words. His smile slowly falls too, which I pretend doesn’t cut through me like a blade to the heart.

“Big day today,” I say, bringing the topic back to the job – a safe conversation.

“Yeah…” Miles doesn’t take the bait, and again, our conversation becomes stilted. After a moment, though, he adds, “For both of us. Are you sure about what you want to do?”

“I am,” I say. I’ve been running through possible scenarios in my head, but no matter which one I choose, or how badly it might turn out, I know I have to approach Daphne today.

“Then we both need some courage today,” he says. Miles is so confident, that even knowing him and his weaknesses, it’s hard to think of him as someone who needs anything. “How about a kiss for good luck?”

That, I can’t and won’t deny. Together, we lean in and press our lips together for a sweet, yet lingering kiss. He tries to deepen it but I laugh and push him away.

“We don’t have time for that,” I say. “Your suit will get wrinkled.”

He grumbles good-naturedly. “After, then. Something to look forward to.”

“Something to look forward to,” I agree.

The first debate between the two presidential candidates is set to take place at the biggest auditorium at the nearby college campus. Every seat in the room has been claimed by reporters and donors supporting both sides. Even backstage, before the event, we can hear the rumble of the crowd.

Miles and I have a private room. So, too, presumably, does Edward and Daphne.

When a stage hand knocks on our door and tells Miles, “It’s time,” Miles and I both brace ourselves. We look at each other a moment, nod, and then step out into the hallway to face our respected fates.

From a room across the hall, Edward and Daphne emerge. Miles and Edward are led to opposite sides of the backstage, to enter the main stage facing each other. Daphne and I stay backstage, watching from the opening to the hallway where both our rooms are.

Daphne stands a few feet from me, but she’s alone. Edward’s aids have moved closer to the stage.

Knowing this might be my best chance, I approach.

“Daphne,” I say.

She turns and looks at me. When she sees who is addressing her, her politician’s wife smile fades away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “Do I know you?”

There’s definitely recognition in her eyes, and anger too. She knows who I am, but she’s pretending not to, likely to hurt me.

I can take that. I probably deserve it.

“It’s me. Esther,” I say. “From the orphanage.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” she says, and turns her attention toward the stage. We can only see part of it from here, but we can see enough to notice when Edward and Miles step away from their corners and out onto the main stage.

The audience claps politely.

The moderator on microphone welcomes everyone to the event. “Tonight is an historic night for our nation, as Miles Hamilton, the youngest candidate to ever run for president, faces newcomer philanthropist Edward Zimmer. We welcome you both, as well as our audience, and you, our viewers at home, to the first presidential debate of this election season.”

More clapping.

“Daphne,” I say again, leaning into her. “You don’t have to do this, not with me. I know we haven’t talked in a while but didn’t we say we’d be friends forever?”

Daphne shifts away, ignoring me.

I shift closer, leaning in again, “I don’t know why you married Edward, but if you are in some kind of trouble, maybe I can help…”

“Help?” she snaps, looking at me again. “You want to help me now? Well guess what, Esther? You are about twenty years too late.”