Chapter 38
thirty-eight
. . .
Lucas
I’m still staring at the divorce papers when I realize that I can’t put this off any longer.
My attorney’s logo is emblazoned across the top of the documents spread across my coffee table, “Mutual Consent Dissolution of Marriage,” dated and ready for signatures once our six-month arrangement officially ends in two weeks.
The sight of them should provide relief. Instead, they feel like a death sentence.
But right now, I have a more pressing obligation, one I’ve been dreading since Jess and I had our fight a week ago.
I dial my mother’s number, and my stomach churns as it rings.
“Lucas, what a lovely surprise,” she answers, warmth evident in her voice. “I was just thinking about you and Jess.”
“Hi, Mom.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I need to talk to you about something. About Dad.”
The warmth in her voice shifts to caution. “What about your father?”
This is the conversation I never wanted to have, the reason that I was so angry at Jess in the first place: not just for pursuing the story but for forcing me into this moment, for making me be the one to shatter my mother’s carefully maintained world.
“Jess is writing a story. About him.” I push forward, needing to get it out. “Sexual harassment allegations from former staffers.”
Silence stretches between us. I brace for a denial, for the protective instinct I expect from a woman who’s been married to my father for nearly forty years. Instead, she sighs quietly.
“I see. And these allegations, are they substantial?”
Her calm reaction catches me off guard. “Three women, consistent stories, employment records showing patterns of retaliation.” I pause. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“Lucas, I’ve been married to your father since I was twenty-three years old. There’s very little about him that surprises me anymore.”
Understanding dawns slowly. “You knew. About the women.”
“I’ve known who I married for a very long time.” Her voice is steady, matter-of-fact. “Your father is brilliant, charismatic, and deeply flawed.”
“And you’ve just accepted it?” I can’t keep the incredulity from my voice.
“No,” she says firmly. “I’ve managed it. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Marriage is complicated, Lucas. Particularly public marriages. Your father and I have an understanding. He keeps his transgressions discrete, and I maintain my dignity and focus on the work that matters to me.”
“That sounds like a business arrangement, not a marriage,” I say before I can stop myself.
The irony hits me immediately. Isn’t that exactly what Jess and I have? Or at least, what we started with?
“Tell me about Jess’s story. When does it run?”
“The Sunday after Dad’s announcement. She’s giving you both time to respond.”
“Considerate of her.” A pause. “And how are you handling this? It sounds like there’s more to this conversation than warning me about a news story.”
I stare at the divorce papers again, and my throat tightens. “We had a fight. A bad one. I accused her of choosing her career over me, of betraying my trust.”
“Did she?”
“She says the story came to her, that she wasn’t digging into it. That she was verifying facts before bringing it to me.” I run a hand through my hair. “I found out by seeing footage from the documentary they’re filming. She was discussing the story with the director.”
“I see. And this betrayal, it’s about the story or something else?”
The question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that, sometimes, when we feel most hurt by someone, it’s not about their actions but about our fears.”
“She promised she wouldn’t investigate Dad without talking to me first.”
“And if she had told you immediately, what would you have done?”
The question forces me to really think. “I don’t think I would’ve stopped her,” I admit. “Not really. I know who he is. I’ve always known, even if I didn’t want to admit it. And those women deserve to be heard.”
“Then what are you really angry about?”
I close my eyes as the truth finally becomes clear. “It’s you I worry about. You’ve spent your life carrying his image, standing beside him. This story isn’t just going to take him down; it’s going to hurt you, too. That’s what I didn’t want Jess to be part of.”
“So, you’re not angry at Jess for doing the right thing. You’re angry because you couldn’t protect me from the fallout.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “And because she’s caught in the middle of it. It’s not fair to her, either.”
“And yet, she’s standing by her principles anyway.”
“She’s brilliant,” I say, the words tumbling out. “Fearless. Unflinchingly principled. She sees through pretense and demands authenticity from everyone around her.”
“Including you?”
“Especially me. She challenges me constantly. Makes me think. Makes me better.”
“And now she’s doing exactly what you admire her for: standing by her principles, seeking truth, refusing to be swayed by personal connections. And you’re punishing her for it.”
The realization stops me cold. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Do you know what I thought when I met Jess at the fundraiser?”
“What?”
“That she wasn’t intimidated. Not by your father, not by our world. She remained entirely observant, sharp, authentically herself. You looked at her that night like she was the only real thing in a room full of carefully crafted images.”
“I did?”
“Oh, yes. I recognized that look. It’s how I used to look at your father before reality set in.”
The comparison unsettles me. “You think I’ll end up like you and Dad? In some sort of arrangement?”
“No, I think you have the chance to build something genuine, something based on accepting each other completely, flaws and all. Real partnership means loving someone not despite who they are, but because of it.”
I hear her moving around, perhaps to a more private part of the house. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, more vulnerable.
“Before I was Katherine Carmichael, political wife, I was Kate Reynolds, education activist. I had fire, purpose. I compromised too much of myself for your father’s career, for the family image. I don’t regret the family we built, but I do regret losing parts of who I was.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I see Jess heading down a path I didn’t have the courage to take. Standing by her convictions, even when it costs her personally. And I see you at a crossroads, deciding whether to be the man who supports her strength or the man who isn’t strong enough to embrace it.”
I glance at the divorce papers again, and my chest tightens. “What if it’s too late?”
“Then you fight for her. Not by asking her to be less, but by being brave enough to love her exactly as she is—brilliant, principled, and occasionally inconvenient to your peace of mind.”
“When did you get so wise about relationships, Mom?”
“Forty years of mistakes are a powerful teacher.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Your father will survive this story, Lucas. Our family will adapt. But you may not recover if you let pride drive away the woman who clearly holds your heart.”
After we hang up, I sit in the silence of my apartment—our apartment, though Jess hasn’t been back since our fight.
The divorce papers mock me from the coffee table, ready and waiting for signatures that would legally end what started as a convenience but became something I can’t imagine living without.
Part of me wants to drive to her office right now and beg her forgiveness, but I know Jess well enough to realize that grand gestures won’t fix what I’ve broken.
I pick up the divorce papers and tear them in half.
The announcement party is in two weeks. We’re both expected to be there, both still maintaining the pretense of our marriage for the cameras and the crowd.
I don’t know if Jess will forgive me. I don’t know if we can rebuild what my accusations have damaged.
But now, I know what I want. I just hope that when I tell her, she wants the same things, too.