“I wouldn’t do that, Luna. I would never share that with anyone. I’m sorry for upsetting you and dragging you back there. I’m just trying to figure out if Hollis has anything—any leverage—we need to know about.”
“How the hell can I possibly answer that?” she snaps. “We were being intimate, and afterward, I noticed his phone propped up on the dresser. Not lying flat. It struck me as suspicious. I gotup to check, and that’s when I saw the recording was on. I lost my shit.”
Her eyes flare with renewed anger. “I felt completely violated. We’d never discussed filming anything like that. When I confronted him, he acted like he didn’t understand why I was angry—the exact thing he always did. Like I was overreacting. Being too emotional.”
She lets out a bitter, humourless laugh. “Like, motherfucker, what? You tape me without my permission, and I’m being too emotional? I should have walked out right then. I still can’t believe that I didn’t. But I deleted it from his phone and made him delete it from the cloud. I stood there and watched him do it.” She pauses for a breath, her chest rising and falling hard beneath her camisole. “Just the idea of video sex brings all of it back. That’s why I can’t. Not because I don’t trust you. I just can’t.”
I see red. A dark, violent urge floods my veins, making it hard to breathe. I want to ruin him. But I swallow the venom and keep my focus on Luna. I reach for her hand, and she lets me take it. “God, Luna. I’m so sorry, baby. What he did was?—”
“I know.” Her voice drops into a pained whisper. “But I’m the fool who stayed.”
“No. This is on him. Not you.” I thread our fingers together.
“I can see how worried you are, DK.” Her eyes meet mine. “Could there be others I didn’t catch? He said no. I chose to believe him then, and if he lied… what am I supposed to do with that now?” Her shoulders lift in a resigned shrug. “I have no control over it. If I start spiraling down every what-if scenario with him, I’ll be a complete mess.”
The anger drains from her as if she’s simply exhausted from carrying it. “I can’t live that way with Hollis taking up space in my head every day. And I don’t want you doing it, either. I knowwhen you’re not sleeping. This obsession isn’t good for you… or my father.”
“You’re right.” I pull her onto my lap and into my arms, holding her against me.
But inside that tight circle of us, I don’t get that light, floating feeling like I usually do.
Not even close.
Instead, I feel that I’m drowning in an invisible threat, waiting helplessly for Hollis to make his next move.
It’s the following Monday morning when Ash pops his head inside my office door. “Are we still on for lunch?”
I look up from my computer with a thumbs up, keeping my commitment to Luna… and to myself.
Since the smear page started, I’d been creeping back into old habits. Working later, skipping lunch, and monitoring Bayside Truth Watch like I was on a twenty-four-seven surveillance detail. Luna recognized I wasn’t sleeping. She wasn’t the only one worried I was backsliding into the dark place that broke me in D.C.
I made an appointment with Don after the lake house. His voice was a blend of empathy and accountability. “Let’s talk about why you’ve stopped using the tools that have been helping you and why you refuse to let whoever is behind this smear campaign go.”
Of course, my love for Luna is the biggest reason. But sitting with his question, I couldn’t deny the ugly truth. The familiar buzz under my skin. The toxic rush of adrenaline. The lure toachieve, to fix, to solve. The same compulsive, unhealthy cycle that nearly destroyed me.
So before it spins out of control, I’ve put myself back on the program. Alarms, leaving the office by six, taking lunch breaks, and limiting myself to checking the page twice a day—once in the morning and once before I leave for the evening. No late-night scrolling. No rabbit holes.
I’m also back to doing the relaxation exercises with Luna over the phone. She sent me a jar of topical magnesium to rub into my tension spots before bed. I don’t know if it’s actually working or if I just believe it is because it came from her. Either way, I’ll take the win.
The tightness in my neck and shoulders has eased, and I’m falling asleep without medication.
Still, it’s been a week since I’ve seen her. I resent that the absences come with a running tally. Exact days. Exact hours. Sometimes it feels like I’m serving a sentence for loving a woman who happens to be on the other side of a campaign.
Not because our feelings care about politics. But because politics cares about optics.
I force my attention back to donor calls and polling data. Don and I talked about that, too. Channelling energy into things I can actually control.
At noon, Ash and I step outside into the humid late-summer air. The temperature is still pushing into the nineties, but the Lake Michigan breeze takes some of the sticky edge off. We join a short line at the food truck with three people ahead of us. We’re shooting the shit while we wait when Ash’s eyes suddenly cut to the right.
Then his face breaks into a grin. “Incoming opponent.”
Chapter Forty-Four
DK
Idon’t look right away. Instead, I follow Ash’s gaze with a deliberate turn of my head, adjusting my mental armor before my eyes land on her.
Luna is walking with her field director, a tablet tucked under one arm, her curls bouncing with every step toward her campaign headquarters. This is our first chance encounter since that afternoon at the café on Fifteenth. Seeing her unexpectedly like this is a physical shock to my system. My lungs forget how to work. She’s wearing linen pants with a matching fitted vest, but all I can see is the woman I woke up beside last Monday morning, spooned softly against my back.
