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“Of course,” she admits without flinching. “I was in love with Jack for years. I did not approach him with this information, and I did not knowingly seduce him or try to interfere with his marriage, in case that was going to be your next line of questioning.” Etienne stares into the camera like she’s looking into his soul. “But I was also not secretive.”
Dexter nods and sits on the bed, bringing a notepad and pen from the desk in the room and jotting a few notes as she speaks.
“Have you ever loved someone like that, Dexter? Have you loved someone so much that there was no way to disguise your feelings?”
“I feel like most adults have,” he says, not giving her any more than that.
“With Ruby?”
Dexter ponders the wisdom of letting Etienne run the questions for this discussion, but decides that his openness might encourage her openness, so he allows it. For now.
“Sure, with Ruby. I’m very fond of her.” Etienne is watching him and she says nothing, so he goes on. “And I think at some point, hiding that or ignoring it became nearly impossible. Not acting on those feelings started to become…painful. I couldn’t be around her and not show her that she was someone special to me.”
“Mmmm,” Etienne says, nodding. “But I would assume you tried not to allow those feelings, as you are, after all, the man writing a biography about her late husband, yes?”
Dexter nods. “That’s true, and you’re right. I tried to keep my feelings quiet. We have work we need to do together.”
“But then did you decide that love was more important than a book? Than your own sense of comfort? Than anything?”
Dexter is aware that she’s asking not just for himself, but to satisfy her own feelings. “I think it was just inevitable. When we looked into each other’s eyes, the book didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did, really.”
“Ah,” Etienne says. “Nothing did. Nothing mattered.” She lifts her chin slightly, looking a little smug. “Then I’m sure you can understand Jack’s human desire to indulge in those same feelings. Because there came a point where he stopped being a politician, and started to just be a man—a man in love.”
“That!” Dexter says, his voice rising slightly with the exclamation. “That right there. I’m wanting to understand when he dropped the mask and just became Jack Hudson. Can you help me to pinpoint that?”
Etienne narrows her eyes and for a second, Dexter is worried that she’s going to shake her head no and end the call. But instead, she chews on the inside of her cheek and then speaks: “I have to tell you that I don’t think it was that first night. I truly don’t.A big part of him coming home with me on my birthday was simply him quenching his own desires and figuring he’d worry about that later.” Etienne leans out of the frame for a moment and all Dexter can see is her shoulder. Then she sits upright again and runs a hand through her short, messy hair. “I think the first time I saw him step out of his official role and just become Jack was the day I told him that I was pregnant.”
Dexter swallows. “Is this off the record or on?”
Etienne inhales sharply holds it, then exhales before speaking. “I think that would be up to Ruby,” she says, suddenly looking tired. “I’m willing to be honest because, frankly, none of it matters now. Jack is no longer here, and he’s not the president.”
“Okay,” Dexter says, writing on the notepad again. “I’d love to hear more about that day.” From downstairs, he can hear the front door open and close, and he knows Ruby is moving around the living area and the kitchen. “You can tell me what you feel like sharing, and I’ll talk to Ruby and see what she’s comfortable with.”
Never before has Dexter spent this much time soft-pedaling and trying to comfort his sources of information. And it’s not that he minds it now—after all, the topic and the emotions attached to it are real, and the people involved are real humans with feelings and he’s been in their homes and in their lives—but with every passing moment, he’s beginning to wonder whether he’ll even be able to do Jack Hudson’s biography justice without somehow hurting the women he’s left behind.
“Well,” Etienne says, leaning back in her chair and breaking eye contact with Dexter as she recalls the day in question. “Jack was visiting me in Paris the day I told him I was pregnant. It was only a month or so after my thirtieth birthday, and I was terrified of what he’d say.”
“Understandably.”
“Mmm, yes.” Etienne looks off into the distance. “I knew I was about to turn his life upside down, and I also knew that I was willing to have this child on my own, if necessary. There was no part of me that wanted to ruin his life, his marriage, or the lives of his children. I didn’t even consider it. I’m a strong woman, Dexter, and when I set my mind to something, I get it done.”
“I have no doubt.”
Etienne sighs. “So I told him, and I expected him to be angry, or disappointed, or maybe just to walk out of my life forever. And I would have kept the secret for the rest of my life about who the father of my baby was—I was prepared to do that. But Jack surprised me.” One side of her mouth lifts in a smile as she remembers. “Something changed in him as soon as he processed the news.”
Dexter frowns and stops scribbling on his notepad. “What changed? Can you say?”
“He said immediately that he would be there for me, and that he’d find a way to be there for the baby.” Etienne pauses. “He also said how much he hoped for a son; that he’d always wanted a boy. And so I hoped I was about to make that dream come true for him.”
Dexter frowns but goes back to writing. “Were you at all worried how he’d make that work? I mean, it’s one thing to try to make a long-distance relationship work—especially one that you have to keep secret—but to make long-distance parenting work had to be exponentially harder.”
“It was,” Etienne agrees. “But I refused to let my happiness be dictated entirely by Jack Hudson’s presence.”
“But…” Dexter isn’t quite sure how to formulate the thought that’s tickling at his brain.
“You’re wondering how I could choose to be happy raising a child alone, and how I could go into it knowing that there was no way to demand that my lover leave his wife and come to me?”
“Essentially. I guess that’s what I’m wondering.” Dexter scratches at the bristling goatee and his unshaven cheeks and it makes a sound like sandpaper. “Were you truly as happy and at peace as you say, or did you feel let down by the way things turned out?”
