Chapter 212

Miles doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t get angry. Instead, his eyes soften somewhat and he reaches forward to take my hand.

“Esther,” he says my name so gently, so reverently, that it punches the air from my lungs. “You and I are it.”

It’s so simple, so sweet, that I have to ask, “What do you mean?” Because there’s no way it can be that easy.

Miles smiles as he squeezes my hands. “I mean it just like I say it, Esther. You are it for me. There’s no one else but you. It doesn’t matter what happens in this election. President or not, I want you by my side.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “You can’t possibly know what you are saying.”

I’ve been married before, to a man I had quickly believed loved me just because he said he did. While my relationship with Miles has felt different from the start – every moment being more genuine – I was still hesitant and unsure.

After all, Miles is much younger than me. He’s only 25. What if, in a few years, he changes his mind about me and goes looking for someone else, someone younger, just like Garnar did?

“I know exactly what I’m saying. I’ve cared about you for a very long time now, Esther. That isn’t going to change in the future. Not ever,” he says.

See? The different in our ages is apparent once again. He says he has cared about me for a ‘very long time’. But we’ve only known each other a handful of months. To someone of my age, mid-thirties, that hardly counts as a very long anything.

Miles inches closer to me. With hope bright in his beautiful blue eyes, he says, “I know you might not believe me, based on all your previous experiences, but I’m asking you to trust me, Esther. Trust me, and I will show you every single day for the rest of our lives that you are the one I am dedicated to. You are the one that I want.”

These are nice words, but right now, that’s all they are. I want to believe them, I do. But love has ever been fleeting in my experience.

Garnar’s love was temporary. My birth mother gave me up. My adopted parents’ love shifted from me to my sister, and though I know in my heart that the care for me, it’s still not as much as it had been once, before Thea had been rescued and returned. And Thea, my own sister, slept with my husband. How much could she really care for me?

Cynthia is my only genuine friendship. Hugo, Kim, and I are headed that way, but it’s still too new. And things are still frayed with Daphne, even though we are bond together for life.

I don’t know what to expect from Miles, but I can’t help keeping my heart guarded. Everyone hurts me, sooner or later. He’ll be no exception, even if he wants to be.

Until I have an engagement ring on my finger, I’m not sure I’ll truly believes it’s me he wants forever, despite what he says now.

Maybe not even until the wedding.

“I want to arrange a meeting with the publicist tomorrow,” he says. “The sooner we can talk to her, the sooner we can start taking steps to move forward with our relationship. I want the whole world to know how I feel about you.”

“Okay,” I agree, half expecting him to bail at the last minute. Not because that’s something he would normally do… He’s usually very reliable. But because it’s something that everyone has ever done to me.

When the moment comes, I don’t know that he’ll stand up to the world and tell them that he wants me by his side, despite what he says now.

It’s going to be a matter of wait and see.

Miles, however, seems ecstatic about my agreement. He smiles wider, and keeps that wide smile for the rest of the night. Even in his sleep.

The next morning, the publicist comes to us and we meet in Miles’s office. Her name is Gladys Myers and but she insists everyone call her Sunny.

“Cause I’m like sunshine,” she says. That’s not a wrong assessment. With her thousand watt smiles, she likely could light up a whole room, or maybe even a small planet. I have no idea how she gets her energy first thing in the morning, especially because I see a veggie shake in her cup, not coffee.

“Now, I’ve heard some of what you all want to talk to me about, but not the specific details,” she says. “Everything seems very hush hush, which I can appreciate. But good news is something I’m eager for, especially in the political world. Let’s hear it, and then we’ll figure out the best way to tell everyone else.”

Her enthusiasm is somewhat infectious, and before long, Miles and I are sitting on the couch together, with her in the chair across. Miles boldly takes my hand in his.

Sunny’s eyebrows shoot all the way up to her hairline. “The rumors are true?”

“Yes,” Miles says. “Esther and I have been in a relationship for a while.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys.” Sunny says. “I’m so excited about this. I’ve been rooting for you since those rumors came out when you were still working at Harbinger’s, Esther. Were you guys dating then too?”

Miles and I glance at each other.

“Yes,” I say, “Though we took a break after that. We didn’t want others to find out.”

“It was different then,” Miles says. “You were a reporter. We had to be careful to keep your integrity intact.”

“You will still have some pushback,” Sunny says. “People won’t like that Esther is your employee. Even if a campaign trail often makes lovers of those who would otherwise… not.”

“We were lovers since before that,” Miles says.

“Miles,” I chastise lightly, my cheeks burning.

“Sorry, Esther. I just didn’t want her to think that I only wanted you because of the campaign trail.”

I nod, understanding.

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” Sunny says. “But it’s good to have all the facts. Not that we need the public to know all this. Not all at once, anyway.”

She claps her hands. “Listen, I think you should come forward with this relationship. Not just for the good vibes it will bring to your campaign, but also because it’s just good news. There’s so many hate campaigns out there, let’s hit them with love instead. It will be a win-win, for your numbers and our hearts.”

“Great,” Miles says. “I think so too.”

“My only concern is…” she starts, rubbing her chin. “The story would tug on the heartstrings better if it had some kind of hook, you know? Star-crossed lovers, perhaps? Or some kind of Cinderella scenario, if possible? We need to tell your story in a way to make people not just care, but also really root for you.”

The first night we met, I thought he was a call boy and we had sex while I was still married. That’s not exactly a story for the ages.

“We have a moving story,” Miles says with confidence. I look at him, unsure.

But he just flashes me his patented trust me smile.

I have no idea what he’s thinking.