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“Hey, thanks for meeting me,” he said when she stopped to stand in front of him.
She just nodded. If she opened her mouth, she didn’t know what would come out.
The sound of the ocean, the breaking waves, the salt in the air were there, but all she could see was how tired he looked.
“Hope, you’ve had enough for one day, but I had to see you. I wanted to explain. I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a long time, before we even … But I was afraid. Still am.”
“That’s okay. Just tell me, Jordan.”
“I’m not going to beautify it.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “In May this year, I made a stupid, terrible mistake. I had a one-time … thing … with Sharon Rush when she was separated from her husband.” He huffed a breath, and his eyes escaped hers for a moment, but then he forced his gaze back to hers.
She could see it—the struggle, the regret. The truth he was telling and how hard it was for him.
His jaw muscle twitched before he spoke again. “One time. She initiated, I shouldn’t have gone for it, but I did. It could have ended there, but then she found out she was pregnant and wasn’t sure about the dates.” He took another deep breath, and that jaw muscle danced again, straining the tendons of his neck. She almost reached out to touch it.
“She went back to her husband, but we had to wait until it could be tested during the Amniocentesis. It’s not mine.” He pressed his lips up, creasing his chin. “I never loved her, I never touched her before or after. But, for the record, I would have recognized and supported that child if it were mine. And if she wanted me to. But it wasn’t, and she was back with her husband, and those few minutes should have remained in the past. Except—”
“Except she’s well-known.”
He watched her for a moment. “Yes.” He then breathed in as if he was steeling himself for more. “But that thing that happened, it wasn’t what bothered me the most.” He averted his gaze toward the ocean. The breaking waves frothed, their sound muffled by the distance.
“I want you to know everything, Hope. That’s not why I left D.C.” Bringing his eyes back to her, he continued, “I left because … because my initial instinct after she told me was to help her cover it up, prevent a PR issue. I advised her to not disclose she had been separated from her husband. I made sure there was no proof of me being in her hotel room.” He stopped when he noticed her averting her gaze as a mental image crossed her mind. “I’m sorry I have to tell you all this, but this was before I ever met you.”
She brought her gaze back to his, and he continued, maybe knowing he had to get it all out now. “And I found the clinic that would do the confidential paternity test. And this … my initial instinct and actions—that’s what made me sick of myself, of D.C. That’s what made me come here, to try to understand, remember, who I …” His sentence died out.
She watched him in silence as he was the one to turn his eyes toward the ocean this time. Then he suddenly scoffed. It was a bitter, dry scoff.
“And the funny part was that, when she told me that it wasn’t mine, I felt a sort of disappointment. Not because of her. It had nothing to do with her. Because … I don’t know. A punishment maybe?” He rubbed a hand over the right side of his face then turned to her, and his expression was of someone who was waiting for a verdict.
She skimmed her eyes over his face, yearning to remove that pain from his eyes. “I believe you.”
He looked at her with a question, and she nodded, pressing her lips together.
“Yeah, I do. I believe you that it was just a mistake and that you regret it. And if she wasn’t in the House of Representatives, this would have been … I don’t know … one of those things you share on the seventh date or something. Nothing like what those Whisperers try to pin on you. Nothing that would … be any of my business.” She lifted one shoulder. “No one’s a saint. And I don’t … You’re a good man, Jordan. And you beating yourself over this is just more proof of that.”
He huffed a breath that had him slightly recoil back in surprise.
“No, really,” she continued, encouraged by the fact that the words came out as she meant them to. “It’s … I can understand why you’re bothered by it. But we all do, and react, and think things that we’re not always proud of or do us credit. And I think you’re much better than you think you are. You don’t deserve this self-beating. I mean, she has older kids and a husband she eventually … And you tried to prevent … I understand.”
“Hope, I—”
“No, wait. I’m not done.” It was her turn to take a deep breath. Now, more than ever, she needed the logical scientist in her to be in control, not her rebellious heart or traitorous body that both screamed for him. “But your life, D.C., this distance—not just the physical one, but the … I don’t know… stylistic one? … I don’t know what to call it—what you’re used to, the aspirations, the influence, the power game, your everyday, the … the media, the level you’re dealing with, the risks you take or given to … the whole … it’s a whole other world. So different. And it’s not something I can embed into my life, into my daughters’ lives. I don’t presume to think you’re offering, but I’m preempting.”
“Hope, I’m willing—”
“No. Don’t tell me that you’d change this constellation for me. No.” She shook her head, as if she needed convincing, too. “We just met, and you’re good at what you do.”
He closed his eyes, as if she had just stabbed him in the chest.
She pointed at his rental car that was parked not far from them. “I can’t be your vacation or escape from yourself. Your life is not here. It hasn’t been for over twenty years. I don’t want you to change your life for me. You’d like it for what? A few months? And then what? You saw what happened today. That’s my life, Jordan—that.” She pointed with her arm back, in the imaginary direction of her house. “A seven-year-old who saw a prank on YouTube and thought it’d be hilarious to try it at home. A mother-in-law I can’t even call unless I want to hear a lecture on why I’m allowing YouTube, or why I go out once a week with friends. An ex-husband who’d … Oh, he’d make a really good case of … all of it.” She stopped for a moment to swallow the tears that accumulated in the back of her throat. “Our lives … you and I … are not compatible.”
He just watched her, eyes dark, wide.
She then delivered the last blow. For herself, not less than him.
“Better if we remain as Luke’s brother and Libby’s friend.”
