When I pull onto my parents’ street, my throat tightens with emotion. I don’t want to park in the driveway and see the planters full of brightly colored flowers my mom faithfully waters every morning. I don’t want to walk in the door and see her taking care of the home she thinks she shares with a loving husband. And I sure as hell don’t want to confront my lying, deadbeat father.

I want to just keep driving. Past the house, out of the neighborhood, and eventually, across the state line. I want to hide and nurse the hurt still coursing through me. I don’t see how I’ll be able to campaign now, knowing it’s all been a lie. The father I looked up to was just a fraud.

But like always, I put what I want aside. I slow down and turn into the long, stone driveway. My father’s dark sedan is parked there. I texted him and told him I needed to see him face-to-face and that it was an emergency.

Once inside, I set my purse and keys on the counter. The kitchen is empty, the smell of homemade banana bread in the air.

“Reagan?”

My dad calls out from the hallway and walks into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What’s this emergency?”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Volunteering for hospice.”

I sigh deeply, feeling like I’m seeing my father for the first time. His salt-and-pepper hair is starting to thin. He’s got crinkles beside his eyes and lines on his forehead. The expectant look he’s giving me—brows arched impatiently—has always made me hop to. But this time, it just aggravates my already raw nerves.

“Dad…” I swallow hard, steeling myself. “What would you say if I told you I was having an affair with a married man?”

He narrows his eyes. “I’d say it’s political suicide. Are you out of your fucking mind, Reagan?”

“Are you?”

“Excuse me?” His low, ominous tone makes me laugh bitterly.

“I’m not having an affair with a married man, Dad. Apparently, I got Mom’s integrity rather than yours.”

“How dare you—”

I take a step toward him. “No, how dare you? I saw the photos. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“What photos? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My heart is racing, the image of him giving that woman a tender look seared into my consciousness. “How old is she, Dad? She looks my age. All those lectures on putting family first and marrying your great love… You’re nothing but a fraud.”

The anger slowly slides away from his expression, and he draws his brows together with concern. “Tell me what’s going on, Reagan.”

“How many affairs have you had?”

He doesn’t move a muscle.

“How many, Dad?” I slowly repeat.

“What is it you think you know?”

“Don’t play games with me. Don’t pull your politician bullshit and answer a question with a question. Have a little integrity, Dad. You’re caught. Man up and own it.”

His nod is almost imperceptible. “Just one.”

“Just one? You have the nerve to call it just one?” I’m yelling now. “You betrayed Mom, and you think it was okay because it was just once?”

“I don’t think it was okay.”

“Does Mom know?”

“No.”

I shake my head in disgust. “She’s so good to you. So much more than you deserve, and you’re running around with a woman half her age?”

“You’re mistaken.”

“Like hell I am.”

He rubs his temple, concern etched on his face. “What photos are you referring to? Who has them?”

“The Titan campaign.”

“Then how did you hear about it? Have they already been released to the press?” I see fear in his expression.

“No. But I could give a shit about your damage control right now. You need to tell Mom.”

“Reagan…it’s not as simple as you think.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “You were busted with your twenty-something girlfriend. Seems pretty simple to me.”

“Twenty-something?” He looks genuinely confused.

“She looks younger than me, Dad.” My voice is laced with venom. “I can’t believe you’re cheating on Mom with a perky young blond. Is she your intern?”

He looks at the floor. “No. I think…I mean…I know what’s happened. Those photos the Titan campaign has aren’t of me and…well, the other woman.”

“Then who the hell is she?”

“My daughter.”

I put a hand on the kitchen counter to steady myself. “What?”

He nods, his expression loaded with shame. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Find out what? What’s going on here? Tell me exactly what’s going on.”

“I started an affair with Stephanie Barnes twenty-two years ago. The woman I was apparently photographed with is our daughter, Kennedy. She’s twenty.”

I feel unsteady. I wish Jude were here. I need to look into his dark eyes and feel the invisible blanket of reassurance he always wraps around me.

“Twenty-two years? And…?” I clear away the lump in my throat. “I can’t…I mean, I don’t even know what to say. How could you?”

“I’m sorry, Reagan.”

I hold up a hand to quiet him. “Don’t. People who are sorry don’t carry on for more than two decades. You’d still be denying it if there wasn’t cold, hard proof. You’re nothing but a liar.”

He nods, his expression sober. “Yes. I’ve dreaded the thought of my double life being discovered, but I have to say I feel almost relieved right now. I’ve wanted you and Abby to know Kennedy and Chris—”

“Stop.” My voice wavers with emotion. “Just stop. You disgust me. You have a mistress and two other children?”

“Yes. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just—”

“No.” I cut him off, and the tears finally spill over. “You have to tell Mom.”

“When is the Titan campaign releasing the photos?”

“I have no idea, and I don’t even care. Either you tell her in the next twenty-four hours or I will.”

“Reagan—”

“Don’t ever use that stern tone with me again. Ever. You’re not the man I thought you were. All of this running myself to the ground, trying to get elected…it’s all about you. All to make you proud of me and carry on your work. But it was all just a lie.”

He sighs deeply. “Listen, I know this is a shock. I’m sorry. But don’t do anything rash.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do ever again!”

After a few seconds of silence, he tries again. “Just take some time away from the campaign.”

“I had to, so I could come here. And there’s no way I’m going back and keeping up this charade.”

“Reagan, you have to.”

“No, I don’t.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t know what’s at stake.”

“Nor will I know. I’m in the dark about everything, Dad. You’re the puppet master, pulling the strings so you can always have your way. You pressured me to run when I said I wasn’t ready, and here I am, in way over my head.”

“You can still do this.”

“Does it matter if I want to do it?”

He furrows his brow. “Why wouldn’t you want to? What thirty-year-old in their right mind wouldn’t want the kind of power and influence that comes with being a United States Senator?”

“It was never for me, Dad. It was always for you.” I swipe the tears away from my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Reagan. I truly am. I wish I could tell you to follow your heart, but…I need you to do this.”

My heart races back into overdrive. “You need me to do this? What does that mean?”

“Having a secret family is expensive,” he says with a heavy sigh. “For twenty years, I’ve had to find a way to support them without anyone knowing.”

My stomach churns with a sick sensation as my father’s words sink in. This hole he’s dug for himself just gets deeper and darker.

“You sold out,” I say softly. “You’re crooked.”

“I accepted payments in exchange for votes I likely would have cast anyway. That’s not crooked.”

“Not according to the Stan Preston School of Ethics, no. But then, neither is deceiving your wife for twenty-two years.”

“Reagan—”

“I have to get out of here.” I close my eyes, and more tears slip onto my cheeks.

“Let’s just slow down and figure this out,” my father says in his most placating tone.

“The only one with shit to figure out is you,” I fire back. “Twenty-four hours.”

He shakes his head. I wait for him to meet my eyes before dropping a bomb of my own.

“I’m seeing someone, Dad.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Jude Titan.”

His grimace says it all—this news bothers him more than me finding out about his secret family did. I’ve been nothing more than a pawn in his game all along.

“Dammit, Reagan.”

“You should be thanking me. Now you know why those photos haven’t been leaked yet.”

“If it gets out that you’re seeing him, you’re done. Ruined.”

My laugh is bitter. “I’m ruined, all right. But it’s got nothing to do with Jude.” Picking up my purse and keys from the counter, I give him a final look. “Twenty-four hours.”

“I won’t be given an ultimatum by you.”

“She deserves to hear it from you. It’s the absolute least you can do now.”

I walk out the door and dig my big, dark sunglasses out of my purse. I can hide my smeared eye makeup behind these glasses, but there’s no way I can conceal my emotions. My world was just turned upside down. The campaign couldn’t be further from my mind.

I’m not going back to the bus. I’ll text Lexi that she can send everyone home until further notice. The only person I want to be with right now is the one who gets me like no one else. I send Jude a hurried text:

Me: I need you. Can we meet?

Jude: Of course. Where are you?

Me: Leaving my parents’ house. I can’t go back to my staff right now. I’m a mess.

Jude: We can stay at the Palmer House tonight. I’ll cancel my appearances, make the reservation, and text you the room number.

Me: Okay. Thank you.

Jude: See you there.

I start my car and drive away, grateful my mom didn’t come home when I was there. Just thinking about my dad telling her this news makes me break down in angry tears again.

It’s all been a lie. Finding out about my dad’s affair has opened my eyes about myself and my own motivations in a big way. Turns out my ugly, shameful secret—my relationship with Jude—is actually the truest thing I have going.