Bobby reached for Ali’s hand under the table and she pretended not to notice, taking a sip of her wine instead as she smiled at something the man beside Bobby's father said. She had no idea what turn the conversation had taken, but she’d learned over the past year that her role was to look pretty and not say too much, so she kept the wine flowing and the smile plastered on her face. Across the table her future mother-in-law did the same, quietly sipping her gin and tonic, her pale eyes fixed on her husband as if whatever he was droning on and on about was the most fascinating thing in the world.

 

“Excuse me,” Ali murmured quietly, discreetly placing her napkin on her chair and slipping away from the table. Bobby spared her a glance and she gave him a reassuring smile. It wasn’t like she was integral to the conversation. They probably wouldn’t even realize she was gone.

 

In the ladies’ lounge she held a cool towel to her neck and stared at herself in the mirror. This is what it will be like for the rest of your life, she told her miserable-looking reflection. Boring dinners and expensive clothes and a husband who gets more and more like his father every day. Her stomach clenched and she took a few deep breaths though her nose. Can you really do this?

 

It hadn’t always been this way. A popular state senator from a political family, Carmac Dawson had groomed his oldest son Kip from an early age. Kip’s political career was their father’s greatest priority, and Bobby had gone on to law school in relative obscurity from the public eye.

 

When Bobby introduced himself the night they met, Ali was already quite familiar with his brother’s meteoric rise in local politics. Kip Dawson was something of a state hero—a young, dashing Republican candidate with solid family values and a strong southern pedigree. The Dawson name was to Texas what the Kennedy name was to Massachusetts, and Ali almost turned Bobby down because of it. She made it clear immediately that she hated the thought of public life, and he’d grinned as he told her there was no chance of that ever happening for him. She’d shocked herself by agreeing to a date. And then a second date.

 

Bobby had surprised her by being far more down-to-earth and civic-minded than she had envisioned when they met. It was effortless to be attracted to his easy confidence, and when he told her on their fourth date that he planned to marry her, she laughed and was pleased that he took it not as an offense but as a challenge. Without much discussion, they eased into happy coupledom.

 

She loved Bobby despite every attempt not to, and when she brought him home her parents instantly forgave all her past transgressions. Dating boys from the wrong side of the tracks, dropping away from high society, moving to the ranch Gran left her instead of selling the valuable land to one of her father’s wealthy developer friends—they were all swept under the rug in favor of her accomplishment. Even her work with the underprivileged children in their community—which they deemed liberal nonsense and a waste of her time—no longer came under fire at family dinners. Bobby’s presence in her life changed all that.

 

The next year was the accident, and everything changed again. Kip had only been two years older than Bobby. His death had devastated his younger brother, who went from being the shadow son to the center of his parent’s universe in one terrible day. When they emerged from their shock and grief six months later, the elder Dawsons had a new agenda: to slide Bobby into Kip’s political path and continue building the dynasty.

 

So what could Ali say to the man she loved when he looked at her with troubled eyes and told her he was going to run for office? When he wrapped his arms around her and whispered My father finally cares, this is so important to him, I have to do this—could she really remind him that she couldn’t live that life?

 

The Bobby she’d fallen in love with had aspirations of a small law firm of his own. They’d envisioned a low-key life, eating dinner together every night and raising a couple of children. After the accident, small law firm aspirations became city council reality, and their quiet life became astonishingly public. Ali had been photographed more times in the past six months than she had ever been, especially after the engagement announcement, which had been carefully timed to coincide with a campaign press release.

 

It all made her want to scream.

 

“Ma'am?” The washroom attendant offered her another cool towel and Ali smiled gratefully. The older Latina had the tired eyes of a woman accustomed to serving others for a living, the same quiet pride she remembered in Alejandro’s mother, who cleaned houses to supplement her husband’s small business income. Ali should have felt fortunate that she would never have to worry about money and that her own children would go to college without aging herself prematurely through years of physical labor in the process. But somehow it felt wrong to celebrate a life she didn’t agree with and hadn’t chosen.

 

I can’t do this. She sank onto the couch and choked back a sob. The towel shook in her trembling hands and she willed herself not to break down. There was no way she could go through with it, but the wedding was in less than three months. She couldn’t back out, not now. Just the thought of it squeezed the air from her lungs.

 

I’ll just tell Bobby I want to postpone it till next year. I’ll say I need the time to get the program up and running so I can—

 

But the excuses sounded ridiculous, even in her own head. She couldn’t postpone the wedding; it would have to be canceled. She would have to be honest with him.

 

“Alaine?” She looked up as her future mother-in-law rounded the corner, her golden hair impeccably coiffed, her cream-colored dress as fresh-looking as the moment she’d put it on. Ali wished she had the kind of relationship with Cecile that allowed for honest conversation. Would it be different if she could confess her fears to the mother of the man she loved, a woman who knew too well the sacrifices of the life she was about to live?

 

“Are you feeling unwell?” Cecile bent over Ali, looking into her eyes.

 

“A bit run down is all.” A half-truth seemed the best approach, but Ali realized her mistake when the older woman straightened and frowned.

 

“It’s been nearly twenty minutes,” Cecile chastised. “Bobby’s quite worried, and we can’t have him distracted from our guests. You can rest later this evening.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Ali rose and the tired bathroom attendant materialized from wherever she’d discreetly tucked herself to take the held-out towel. Without sparing a glance in the woman’s direction, Cecile dropped a ten dollar bill in the glass bowl on the counter. Ali followed her out. When she looked back to smile at the attendant, she saw pity in the woman’s eyes.