Chapter 215

Garnar, knowing I was giving a difficult interview tonight, offered to watch the kids. Since they are at Garnar’s house, I expected the house to be empty when I finally returned. Instead, I see Miles’s car parked in my driveway and the additional security staked out around the premises.

It’s a relief. Though it was nice of Garnar to take the girls for the night, I’ve been dreading returning to an empty house. The very last thing I want to do, after giving an interview like that, is be alone.

Maybe I don’t want to talk about it, still feeling raw. But I would like others around me, to help bring me out of that terrible past and into the present.

Daphne may be planning her new life without Edward, but I’ve already made those efforts. I’ve been living my own life for such a long time.

I just need to remember now what it looks like. I’ve spent too long today living in the past.

The guards nod at me as I pass them, entering the house. As soon as I’m through the door, I smell something… delicious. I follow the scent to the kitchen.

There, Miles works at the stove. His suit coat is thrown over one of the chairs at the kitchen table, but he’s still wearing his button-up shirt and black slacks. His sleeves are rolled up though, and over everything, he’s wearing an apron that he must have found tucked away somewhere. It’s Christmas themed, red with some white fluff around the collar, decorated like a Santa suit.

It’s ridiculous and endearing at once, and I’m so grateful for it, because it immediately makes me laugh.

“There’s the laugh I love,” Miles says. He looks back at me, grinning, as he continues to sauté something on the frying pan over the stove. With a wink, he returns his attention back to the food.

Ever since his love confession, he says things like this so easily now.

I love this about you…

I love that dress on you…

I love when you smile at me like that…

Over and over again, the word love comes up, as if he’s just discovered the word. Fresh in his vocabulary, he has to use it as much as he can.

I hope he never stops.

“Get into your comfortable pajamas,” Miles says. “I’m treating you tonight.”

Now there’s an offer, I would never turn down. Yet before I do, I walk closer to him. Without even needing to tell him what I want, he leans down and places a quick kiss to my lips.

“I could get used to this,” I tell him, teasing.

His smile is genuine. “I would love it if you did.”

The rest of the night, I am pampered. After eating, we watch movies on TV while snuggling together on the couch. Eventually, we move to the bedroom, where we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

It’s entirely innocent. And we don’t talk about the day’s events at all.

It’s just what I needed.

The next morning, however, the blissful little domestic bubble we’ve created for ourselves pops the moment we walk through the doors to the doors of the Hamilton Campaign Headquarters.

All of the employees and volunteers look at me with sympathy in their eyes, as if I’ve caught some kind of terminal disease. They treat me with kid-gloves too, like they are afraid to say anything that might bring up Edward.

“You can say his name,” I tell Crystal as she stands in front of my desk, giving me the morning report. For all of it so far, she’s called him, the opponent.

I know their behavior stems from their caring of me, but I’ve always carried this trauma for as long as they’ve known me. They don’t need to treat me any differently now that they know about it.

Later, I’m going to have to have a meeting and call in all the employees to discuss this. Their care is appreciated, but I need to be able to do my job.

For now, though, it seems as if Crystal gets the hint. With a shallow nod, she continues her report.

“Mr. Zimmer has been quiet since the interview,” she says, “But this morning, he posted a barrage of messages on social media, disparaging you and Mrs. Zimmer –”

“Call her Daphne,” I say gently. In the orphanage, we didn’t really have last names. Daphne took on Edward’s surname after marrying him, but she’s working on shedding it now. To my knowledge she hasn’t yet fully decided on a new one yet.

Crystal nods again. “He is accusing you of having turned missus… Daphne against him.” She swallows thickly. “He also says a few choice things that I would prefer not to repeat aloud. I’ve printed it out for you…” She shuffles around some papers she’s holding. “Just in case you wanted to read it…”

She’s walking on eggshells again.

I don’t want to read it, but I need to, as part of my job. As Miles’s campaign manager, I need to always know what we are up against, even if it leads to me reading terrible, triggering things about myself.

Crystal hands me the paper with Edward’s post printed on it. I take a moment to read it, carefully keeping my face neutral as my stomach twists so much, I feel like I’m going to be sick.

…Esther Owens has twisted my wife against me. They were indeed children at my orphanage, where they had been friends, but Esther always pressured Daphne. Esther was a vicious child, just as she’s a vicious adult, still manipulating my wife just to harm me. In fact, while in the orphanage, Esther prostituted herself. Once I found out, I immediately stopped it…

I force myself to read the rest of his lies. When I’ve finished, I calmly lower the vile sheet of paper down to my desk and look up at Crystal. She quickly glances away, pretending she hadn’t been watching me.

“This isn’t true,” I tell her.

“I know that,” she says at once. “Everyone does.”

Good.

Just as relief starts to swell, the door to my office bursts open and Miles storms inside. Given the fury in his eyes, I imagine that he’s just seen Edward’s post.

“Esther…” he says, walking toward me.

I already know what he wants. It’s what he’s wanted for a while, but I’ve pushed back, wanting Daphne’s story to come first.

He wants to come fight back.

And the best way to do that is to make our relationship public.

“I can’t stand to see him drag your reputation through the mud,” he says.

He stops beside Crystal. They both are looking at me, almost pleadingly. Crystal might not have confirmation about Miles and me, but I wonder if she’s guessed, just from seeing us interact with each other.

“Everything will be alright, Esther. I promise,” Miles continues. “But let’s do the press conference. Let’s tell everyone that if he wants to attack you, he’s actually attacking us.”

I’m still not sure. I’m not entirely convinced that sharing our relationship with the world will somehow miraculously shift everyone’s opinions of me while also protecting me from Edward.

But Miles seems determined, and once he’s determined, there is no stopping him.

I trust Miles with all of my heart and soul. I suppose I can trust him with my reputation too.

So I take a steadying breath, and I say, “Okay. Let’s do it.”