30. Taylor
Taylor
Twenty-Four Hours Later
Campaign headquarters has never been so quiet.
Not because there aren’t people here. They’re everywhere.
Sitting in Mom’s oversized leather chair in her office, staring at the carpet, I hear the proof of their existence through the closed door.
Phones are ringing nonstop, staff members are rushing through the hallway, and voices are murmuring in tense conversations.
All because of me.
Despite all that noise, the energy feels different.
Heavy. Suffocating. Mom perches on the edge of her desk, staring at me.
She hasn’t said a word since I arrived ten minutes ago, fresh from my flight with nothing but the clothes on my back.
Her usually perfect composure is fraying around the edges.
Frustration tightens her soft, rounded jawline.
The dark circles around her light blue eyes confirm how little she has slept since a website posted the video yesterday.
Someone recorded Roman and me having sex in the barn.
And by someone, I mean Mr. Wilson.
Not that I have proof, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots.
It would explain why he checked out so early.
I’m certain he recorded that video, just like I’m certain he booked his stay at Silver Sage to snoop on me.
His motive? I’m not sure. The only logical explanation would be that Mom’s opponent hired him.
And if I’m right—and I’m positive I am—this all happened because I gave Celeste my security code. It was then that everyone found out I wasn’t around.
Regret floods my system as Mom’s folded arms tighten across her chest. “I’ve spent two years building trust with donors,” she says. “Two years knocking on doors. Raising money. Visiting every neighborhood in the district.”
She shakes her head.
“Now, all they are talking about is that video.”
I stare down at my hands, swallowing hard. The only words I can manage to say are, “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been sorry before, Taylor.”
A searing ache spreads across my chest. My palms start sweating. She’s right. This conversation feels like déjà vu.
“And I cleaned up your mess. I defended your actions. I believed you.”
Her voice cracks. I glance up. Two seconds later, I regret doing so. The tears in her eyes make me feel worse.
“You slept with your uncle, Taylor. Jesus.”
I glance back down at my hands. It hurts to look at her. “Step-uncle,” I murmur. “And it’s not as if he raised me, Mom. I’d never even met him.”
“Do you think anyone cares about semantics? You and Roman might not be biologically related, but he’s a member of this family. A distant member, but one nonetheless. As far as the public is concerned, you have no business being intimate with him.”
The public. I sigh. As if I needed another reason to miss Hallow Creek.
I’m not looking forward to the countless eyes that will be watching whenever I go out.
The scrutiny, the judgements, the twenty-one questions Mom will force me to answer politely...
God, I don’t want to deal with that. I want remoteness. I want privacy.
I want to be where Jude and Roman are.
“You told me you were confused,” she whispers. “You looked right in my eyes and swore it was that one time, that it would never happen again. Not only did you lie, but you also embarrassed me in the worst imaginable way.”
It feels as if someone sucked the air from the room. “Mom—“
“It wasn’t a phase, was it, Taylor?”
I press my thumb into my palm.
“Are you gay?”
The question hangs between us. The word ‘yes’ lingers on the tip of my tongue.
‘No’ sounds safe and temporary. ‘Yes’ will be permanent.
‘Yes’ might destroy us. But it will also make the years of pretending disappear.
The constant lies. My fake relationship.
The fear of being trapped in a loveless marriage.
One word. That’s all it takes. My pulse thumps in my ears. I think of Roman and Jude, of how alive they made me feel, how, for that short time, they made me forget about being afraid. God knows I don’t want to live with this fear anymore. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life simply existing.
I lift my head. “Yes.”
The word leaves me in a quiet breath. It feels terrifying, irreversible, as if I’m stepping off a cliff.
Then, almost immediately, something loosens inside my chest. The secret I’ve carried for years is no longer trapped under my ribs.
I’m still scared. My mother’s reaction could change everything.
But for the first time in my life, I’m sitting in front of her as myself.
Her face crumples, the sight nearly breaking me. My vision blurs. For one horrible second, I think I’ve lost her, but then she slides off the desk and cups my face. “Oh, sweetheart.”
The dam bursts, rolling streams of tears down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “That’s not what this is, honey—look at me.” She tilts my head, forcing me to meet her stare. “I love you. I don’t care if you’re gay.”
She hugs me to her chest and rocks me as if I were a toddler again. I release everything I’ve been holding back for so long. I was so wrong. I spent years hiding who I was, fearing she wouldn’t accept me. Fearing I wouldn’t be enough.
Wasting so much time.
Feeling as if someone had lifted a weight off my shoulders, I ease out of her arms. As she wipes my wet cheeks, I notice a wary look on her face. “Mom?”
With a gentle sigh, she smooths over my eyebrows. “We are going to send out a release at noon.”
“Okay...” I expected they’d want to do that. What I don’t understand is why she’s staring as if I’m a ticking time bomb.
“Stephen and the team are preparing a statement, but um...” She fiddles with the collar on my sweater. “It won’t mention anything about you being gay.”
“Seriously?”
Another sigh, rougher this time. “Honey, I don’t care if you like men, okay? You just can’t come out.”
The air leaves my lungs. My jaws slacken. She eases away from me and returns to the edge of the desk. I can already feel the distance between us. “Mom...I just told you the truth. What do you mean, I can’t?”
She stares at me as if I had asked the stupidest question in history. “The team has been working overnight to create a sensible cover story. If you come out, it will only make things more complicated. I might have to kiss any chance of winning goodbye.”
“Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think my being gay affects how well you would represent the district.”
“You know the kind of donors that are backing me, sweetie. Even if they accept that I have a gay son, they won’t overlook that you slept with your uncle—“
“Step-uncle,“ I remind her through gritted teeth. “And what happened between Roman and me is nobody’s business.”
Mom pinches the space between her eyebrows. “Please. I spent the last twenty-four hours trying not to imagine anything between you two, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“The point is, I’m not running for a seat, Mom. My personal life shouldn’t affect you.”
“But it does.” Her expression turns pleading. “Taylor, please. Just keep a low profile for now. For me.”
Three quick taps on the door interrupt the tense silence. It flies open before Mom opens her mouth. A tall, red-haired man in his late thirties sails through the door, an iPad in hand, an anxious expression on his narrow face.
Mom groans. “Stephen, if it’s more awful news, I don’t want to hear it.”
Stephen hesitates, his gaze sweeping between us, then he wiggles the iPad. “I just received an email from Alan Riddleston’s office. He is requesting—no, demanding—a meeting this afternoon.”
Riddleston is Mom’s biggest donor. For a moment, I could probably hear a pin drop. Mom closes her eyes. “How far are we on the statement?” she finally asks in a weary tone.
“We’re still debating between two options,” Stephen mutters, glancing down at the screen. I can already tell I won’t like either of them.
“Taylor could confess that the video is real, that it was indeed his step-uncle in the video. Then, we would release this statement—“ he raises his hand as Mom huffs in protest. “Before you say anything, hear me out.”
Mom flashes her fingers impatiently, indicating for him to go on. He glances back at the iPad. I fold my arms across my chest.
“Losing his father to the system at such an early age left Taylor with a deep ache for guidance, protection, and approval that he never fully outgrew,” he reads. “It led to him becoming overly attached to the mentor figures in his life.”
I roll my eyes.
“But Taylor is assured that it was a phase and is currently seeking professional help for his trauma.” He looks up at Mom. “It’s a rough draft, but I can have it polished and ready by midday.”
Mom makes a face. “I don’t want to bring anyone’s attention to his father. What’s the next option?”
Stephen’s expression tightens. Something about his grimace puts me on edge. “We could say that Taylor got drunk, and his uncle—who has been estranged from the family for twenty-four years—took advantage of him—“
“Fuck no.” I stand. Anger unfurls in my stomach.
A pained look crosses Mom’s features. “Taylor.”
“I’m done hiding. And I certainly won’t make people believe Roman is a monster.”
“Honey, your uncle lives twelve hundred miles away. He’s unaware of anything happening on this side of the country,” she points out. “What he doesn’t know won’t affect him.”
“Well, I would know. And I couldn’t live with knowing I betrayed him, not after everything he has done for me.”
Mom cocks her head. “What has he done besides taking advantage of you, Taylor? Tell me.”
Is she for real? “Mom, you asked him to take me in. His business is struggling, yet he took on another mouth to feed, someone he’d never even met. And you want me to repay him by throwing him under the bus.”
She chuckles, throwing her head back. I don’t see anything worth laughing about. “Oh, sweetie...” She dabs at the corner of her left eye. “Roman did nothing out of the goodness of his heart.”
“Okay, so maybe he was a little grumpy—“
“I made him an offer.” Her expression turns to stone. “An investment in his business. All he needed to do was keep you busy and out of trouble.”
She snorts. It feels as if someone punched my stomach. “He kept you busy all right. And clearly, he’s the kind of trouble I wanted to avoid. It’s funny how he didn’t even want you there, not until I offered him money. I should’ve followed my instincts when he said no.”
Stephen’s eyebrow shoots up. His mouth forms a tiny o. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he says, backing toward the door.
As it closes behind him, Mom grabs my hand. My brain is still trying to make sense of what I just heard. “Honey, please think about this. Don’t jeopardize my chances for an opportunist.”
An opportunist. The words slice through me.
A short, hollow sound escapes from my mouth.
God, I’m such an idiot. I’d believed Roman had taken me in because, beneath all those rough edges, he had a good heart.
I’d believed Jude wanted me around because he genuinely enjoyed my company.
I’d believed they wanted me. No—I wanted to believe they wanted me.
I’d convinced myself their actions meant more than they actually did, all because I was so desperate to belong somewhere.
“Taylor.” Her eyes are pleading. “He doesn’t care about you. All Roman wanted was my money.”
An unpleasant feeling coils in my stomach. Were they acting? Did they laugh about it after I went to bed? Was I just some pathetic kid they entertained because my mother was footing the bill?
“Let me release that statement, Taylor,” Mom begs.
Fuck, I thought they were different. I thought I’d finally found people who saw me instead of what they could get from me. To think I even started having feelings for them. The admission makes me physically ill.
“Sweetie...”
With sadness, I stare at the woman who spent years putting criminals behind bars. A woman I thought had integrity. Honesty. I hate how politics has changed her, and I can’t allow it to change me, too. Although Roman hurt me, I won’t return the favor.
“You’re intelligent, Mom.”
Her shapely eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”
“You’re intelligent,” I repeat, squeezing her hand, tears welling behind my eyes.
“You’re resilient. Reliable. Forward-thinking.
Those are traits that matter. People should support you because of what you have to offer.
If they can’t accept that your son has his own life, then they don’t deserve you. ”
A dry sob escapes her mouth. She bows her head. “You’re saying no.”
“I’m saying trust the process. Trust that people are wise enough to choose you.”
Her shoulders shake as her sobs increase. “I can’t, Taylor. Mr. Riddleston... I need his support.”
Everything inside me goes still, not because of those words. It’s what she hasn’t said. It’s what she has always done. Her career has always meant everything to her, and my needs always came second.
But I’m done with trying to compete.
I nod slowly. A tear rolls down my cheek. Releasing her hand, I reach for my jacket. “I hope you win, Mom.”
“Sweetie, please don’t leave like this,” she calls after me.
I pause at the door, my hand resting on the knob, something she said earlier coming back at me. “Keep your promise to Roman.”
Confusion flickers across her face.
“You promised to invest in the ranch,” I remind her. “Don’t leave him hanging. It’s the least we owe him after what Dad did.”
Mom draws in a rude snort. “So, let me get this straight. You’re looking out for a man you’ve barely known for a little over a month, but you’re abandoning the woman who raised you.”
Seeing she has made her choice, then so will I. “Yes.”
Her face crumbles. For a second, I’m urged to cross the floor and embrace her, but my heart is still splintering.
Instead, I close the door behind me.