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Where is Alex?
I don’t know. He left when Chris showed up. What should I do?
Father of the Year
What you were always supposed to do, be his wife.
Mother Dearest
Be safe, sweetheart. I don’t trust him.
Show him that everything isfine.
My own parents don’t know what’s happening, but they’re still right. While my heart left Hawaii with Alex, I’m a Taylor—I can play house with Chris until I’m back home.
Slipping on my mask, I offer Chris my trademark, sweet smile, and stow my phone. “So, dearest husband, why are you here?”
And ruining everything that Alex and our parents set into motion?
“I’m here for my wife,” he affirms but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Where were you when you said you were at the cardiologist?”
Chris finally looks up. “I… I lied to you. I was with friends.”
“Friends?” I shouldn’t be upset, considering I slept with his brother. Worse, I fell for Alex. I don’t know if I can say the same for Chris and the woman he killed. But I’m better than this, or at least Alex thinks I am. Time to play the part and see how much damage was done. “I’m sorry,” I sigh, “I didn’t mean to imply?—”
“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have...” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about something like that.”
I know in my soul he’s hiding more than fucking his aide… but this is a game of chess, not checkers. “Your health is more important than a night with the boys.” Closing the distance between us, I imagine he’s Alex as I tell him, “You’re my husband, now. We don’t keep secrets.” There’s a small clench of his teeth, a simple tell—we’ll be continuing the game. There is no love here, not that there ever was. He wraps his arms around me, and I do my best not to stiffen.
“You’re right. No more secrets.” Chris’ hand slides down to my ass, and he pulls me flush against him. “I’ve missed you. Maybe it’s time I show you how much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” I step out of his hold, feeling as if I’m cheating on Alex by allowing Chris to touch me. “I’m sorry, you can’t show methat way. I’m on my period, we shouldn’t…” He flinches, and it’s another reminder of how these brothers are so different; Alex didn’t blink twice when I told him.
“I didn’t know. When, uh, when would be a good time to…”
“Fuck me?” My hands fly to my mouth, and his eyes widen. “What I meant to say was for us to be intimate.”
Chris lightly licks his lips and lets out a small, unamused laugh. “How was my brother? Was he as good as me?”
Don’t say it. He’s testing me…
“Your brother has been nothing but a gentleman since he stepped in for you forourwedding. We’ve become good friends. Sure, it was unexpected, and he has some misguided political opinions, but Alex is a good man. He loves you and your family.” The lies roll off mytongue a little too easily.Is it my father’s influence or Alex’s?“If you don’t want to be married to me, I under?—”
“No, I absolutely want to be married to you.” He steps forward, and I bottle up my disgust. “You and me? We’re going to take the White House.”
It’s all I’m good for.
A trophy.
A prop.
“You were born for it,” I echo Alex’s words to me. My palm itches to snatch my phone and call him. I should bide my time to be safe; Chris is already suspicious of me. “You’ve had quite the adventure. Why don’t you take a shower, rest, and we’ll work on strategy when you’ve adjusted to the time difference?”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Chris cups my cheek, and I begrudgingly cover his hand with my own and lean into his touch. He’s nothing like Alex, who can command my body with a damn stroke of his thumb. Chris expects me to serve, and to be two steps behind, instead of alongside him.
Every moment since the wedding has opened my eyes wider to what’s going on around me. While I don’t agree with everyone on the other side of the aisle politically, they aren’t the enemy I thought they were. The decades I’ve lost, fighting for causes I didn’t fully believe in, supporting candidates that didn’t represent me and my values… It’s not Chris’ fault, or my father’s; it’s mine. I allowed myself to be swallowed up by one side of the political spectrum when Alex is right—it’s not black and white.
