But I think about the man I love in secret and keep in the shadows?—
And it just feels so wrong.
Chapter Fifty-Two
DK
It’s just past midnight when three soft raps hit my back door.
I freeze on the couch, a Lego block pinched between my fingers. At this hour, an unexpected knock rarely means anything good. It usually spells an emergency or a crisis. But in my world, those tend to arrive with frantic calls and texts, and my phone hasn’t buzzed in hours.
There’s only one person this could be.
I drop the plastic brick onto the coffee table, and quickly cross the darkened kitchen.
Luna stands on my back porch, swallowed by oversized sweats. The hood is pulled low, hiding most of her face, but I’d know the shape of her anywhere. I throw the lock open and pull the door inward. Before I can ask the dozen questions colliding in my head—Did something happen? Are you okay? Why are you here?—she steps across the threshold and into my arms.
I toe the door closed behind her and pull her close, absorbing the warmth I’ve missed.
She isn’t shaking. She isn’t crying. So I wait.
When she eases back, I push down her hood and her curls spring free. She looks breathless. Beautiful. Beneath the black fleece, I catch a glimpse of raspberry satin—the dress she wore to the wedding. The fact that she shoved it into a sweat suit tells me this was important enough that she hadn’t stopped to change.
“Luna.” My hands automatically come up to frame her face. “What’s going on?”
“I know I shouldn’t have come over without calling. Without us preparing.”
“It’s okay. Just talk to me.”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
The breath leaves my lungs. “Can’t do what?”
“The secrets. The hiding. The lies of omission.”
That doesn’t surprise me. We’ve talked about it before—the inner conflict. The guilt. Both of us feel it. But I’ve never seen her this distraught.
“I watched Lot and Lexie holding the men they love out in the open, and it made me miss you in a whole different way. I went down to the water to think. I talked to my dad.”
I keep my hands steady against her cheeks, listening.
“He reminded me about the piping plovers. The nests I saved as a kid. How hard I fought for them, even when I wasn’t sure I’d win.” Her eyes settle on mine. “I want to fight for us, DK.”
The conviction in her voice hits my chest dead-on. “What are you saying?” I already know, but I have to be sure.
“I want to stop hiding.”
“As your man, I want that so bad, Luna. To stop sneaking around. To stop pretending I don’t love you with every damn beat in my chest. But politically, this could swallow your campaign whole right at the finish line.”
“Maybe.” That single word said with a slight shrug isn’t indifference or resignation. It’s an understanding of the risk. “But if I take office and then announce us, people will wonder ifyou engineered an advantage. They’ll question whether they can trust me to govern transparently when I hid this from them. It becomes the story. Not what I can accomplish. Just who I was sleeping with.”
I could give her a dozen counterarguments. I could walk her through every strategy, every contingency plan, every talking point I’ve already built. But she’s not looking for political advice. “Is this what you really want?”
“Yes. But it affects you too,” she says, wrapping her fingers around my wrists. “Diablo will be mad as hell. He could fire you.”
“I don’t care about being fired. The consequences to me will be nothing in comparison. You could sacrifice everything you’ve worked for.”
“I’ve thought it through, DK.” She pulls my hands from her face, holding them in hers, and looks into my eyes. “If I lose because of coming out about us, I can live with that. What I can’t live with is winning because it was safer to stay silent.”
