Chapter 35 #2
He looks at me with a big grin. “That doesn’t scare me either. Except for the Chucky-sounding doll.”
I swat his chest. “She was adorable. And how do you know Chucky but not Cross?”
He laughs, drawing me in closer. “So, what do you think about coming home with me?”
“I’d love to meet your family, but how would we pull that off?”
His expression shifts into full tactical mode. “We’ll take separate cars. Park yours in the garage, out of sight. The house backs onto a ravine, so you can be outside without being seen. I’ve thought it all through. It’ll be as safe as the lake house,” he promises. “All you have to do is say yes.”
I do better. I bring his lips to mine for a long, unwavering kiss.
The days that follow feel like a test in living a double life.
On Sunday, I meet with Women Rising to thank them for their endorsement.
The group is a powerhouse of progressive energy, but as I sit in their boardroom over a catered brunch, surrounded by curated posters about equity and empowerment, I know the score.
These women aren’t just looking for a candidate who supports childcare and equal opportunity—they’re looking for a standard-bearer.
Someone who will uplift the office, not bring scandal to it.
I smile, nod, and promise to be that pillar of leadership, all while my secret burns beneath every assurance. I know who I am, and I know what I offer is real, but I also know how the optics of DK would look to a group that prizes “impeccable” character.
By Monday, Symone has officially been announced as Director.
We celebrate over lunch, talking through the landmines of managing the committee, specifically how to handle Cecil with diplomatic assertiveness.
Don’t crush, but don’t crumble. A delicate balance that women are unfairly expected to master.
Tuesday, I’m back on the campaign trail in Ward 5, wearing capris and comfy loafers this time. No blisters. No accidental run-ins with DK. Just listening to concerns and showing voters why I’m the solution, then I go home at night and curl up with DK’s voice in my ear.
But by Wednesday, that’s not enough. I haven’t touched him in days. I miss being with him. I miss being held, loved… ravished.
So after the streets are fast asleep, we make one calculated decision, and meet at the far end of the beach, past the tourist stretch where nobody lingers after dark. The dunes give us cover, the grass is tall enough to hide us from the boardwalk, the distance far enough to swallow every sound.
We steal an hour in the sand—quick, breathless, desperate. A fix. Something to quiet the ache until Chicago. Afterward, we lie tangled beneath the stars, holding each other until reality forces us apart again.
Thursday, I go back to my world, and DK goes back to his. I have dinner with my Dad at a steakhouse, and still see the concern in his face—the fear of me losing what I’m working my heart out for. But DK has my heart, too.
Friday morning, with one day to go, I wake up zinging with nervous excitement. Thankfully, Gogo’s gift arrived in time. The silk scarf is indigo blue and gold, patterned with joined triangles that form diamonds—a Zulu symbol of family strength.
I took my time wrapping it, hoping she likes it. Hoping they all like me. In Bayside, you usually know the family before the first date. This feels different. Significant.
“Ready to go over next week’s schedule?” Anika asks, popping into my office later that afternoon.
I already know she has another brutal week planned. I’m still recovering from this one—five events, endless handshakes, and smiling until my cheeks hurt. She’s a whirlwind of efficiency. My sister-in-arms.
“Sure, come in.”
“We’ve got the meeting with the waterfront union and debate prep,” she says before she’s even fully seated. “Think you can squeeze in a sit-down with the Ward 2 captains tomorrow?”
“If it’s before ten. I’m heading to Chicago for the weekend.”
“The Aqua Spa again?” Her eyebrows lift, teasing.
“No.” I get up and close the door, then sit back down. Facing her narrowed gaze, I prepare myself to give her the truth. If this blows up, she’ll be the one catching shrapnel right alongside me. “I need to tell you something.”
“Oh?” She folds her arms, bracing for bad news.
“You were right to be suspicious about Dakarai and me. I’ve been seeing him quietly for over a month. I went away with him when I said I was at the spa. And this weekend…” I exhale. “I’m going home to meet his family.”
The silence that follows is thick enough to choke on. Her mouth presses into a hard line. “You know this is insane, right?”
“Yes.” I nod. “But I’m also the happiest I’ve ever been. We’re falling in love.”
She dismisses the romance with one sharp look.
“Do you think you’ll still be happy if you lose this election?
Is he worth that?” She shakes her head. “I cannot believe that you—the woman who didn’t date for over a year because she didn’t want the distraction or scrutiny—is secretly involved with her opponent’s strategist. I’m beyond shook, Rayne.
I thought you two were just flirting. But this… ”
Her eyes meet mine. She doesn’t look at me like I’m the girl from high school she painted her nails with on my bedroom floor while we planned how to run the country. She doesn’t look at me like I’m the candidate she joined without hesitation because she believed in my vision.
She looks at me like she doesn’t recognize who I am.
“I understand you’re upset, Anika. I kept this from you, and I’m sorry. You put your faith and energy into me. I should have given you the respect of honesty.” I swallow. “Can we move forward from this?”
“I don’t know,” she replies, her voice uncharacteristically cold. “I need time to decide if the risk you’re taking is one I’m willing to take with you. Because if this leaks, it’s my reputation on the line too.”
She stands, pressing her iPad to her chest like armor, and without waiting for my response, walks out. Though she leaves the door open behind her, the room feels emptier than if she’d slammed it shut.
I bury my face in my hands. Everyone seems to think this should be a binary choice—him or my campaign?
I understand he’s the man standing on the other side. But that doesn’t change my vision. It doesn’t change what I believe in.
Anika asked if DK is worth the risk.
But why is that question?
Why should politics have any dictate on who I love?