Page 30

Sutton Spencer-Thompson was on a mission.

The first step of that mission was to find her wife, upon returning home from dropping Lucy off to be a counselor at her summer camp.

This mission was something that had been on her mind for months now, and she was finally ready to talk about it with Charlotte. Finally ready to share it. The excitement and anticipation that buzzed through her pushed her to walk a little more quickly through the first floor of their home.

Charlotte had moved in to live with Sutton and Lucy six months after Sutton had given her that key, all those years ago. At the time, Lucy had been thrilled , and Charlotte’s big move-in had seemed like more of a formality than anything.

After all, by the time Charlotte officially “moved in,” she’d been spending at least four or five nights with Sutton and Lucy every week already. Sutton had painstakingly cleared out half of her closet for Charlotte to hang her belongings and had purchased another dresser.

It had become abundantly clear within a few months, though, that Sutton, Charlotte, and Lucy all living together in Sutton’s townhouse wasn’t going to be an ideal fit. Though Charlotte had maintained ownership of her own larger home, moving into it hadn’t felt quite right either.

So they’d decided the best decision was to sell their houses and buy this one together, one that had enough space for both of them to have a home office as well as a guest suite for Dean and Caleb and for Sutton’s family to stay in when they visited.

And while Sutton loved this house they’d lived in for about eight years now, it was still large enough that she didn’t always know exactly where to find Charlotte. Or Lucy, if she was looking for Lucy. There was a lot of guesswork involved.

Honestly, it reminded Sutton a lot of the house she’d grown up in, and she loved that. Granted, her family had been so large that when you went searching for someone you would probably stumble upon another person who could point you in the right direction.

She paused, hearing a murmur that was distinctively Charlotte’s voice, and her heart skipped a beat as she headed in the direction of the kitchen.

And… there she was.

Despite her mission, Sutton paused. Crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, she watched as Charlotte continued to mutter to herself as she stood at the counter. Her back was to Sutton, so she couldn’t quite see what Charlotte was working on, but it didn’t really matter.

She didn’t have to see what Charlotte was doing for the sight of Charlotte working determinedly on something to make her heart flutter in her chest.

The set of Charlotte’s shoulders was the same right now as it would be in a boardroom or behind her desk, firm and strong, under the long-sleeved shirt she wore, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

It was the same shirt she’d put on this morning when she’d gone to work at the foundation. Only, when she’d kissed Sutton goodbye, this outfit had been perfectly maintained. Not a wrinkle in sight, of course.

Now, after having worn it through several meetings that she’d unfortunately had to go to on a Saturday morning, there were signs of wear. And the blazer she’d put on was missing as well. If Sutton were a betting woman, she’d wager that she’d find that blazer neatly folded over the wooden footboard of their bed.

Somehow it was still so crazy to her, at times, the fact that she was living this life with Charlotte . That she and Charlotte had bought a house together, that they’d gotten married, that they were raising her daughter together. That Sutton knew all of the little intricacies in Charlotte’s daily routine, down to a science.

She’d cited that in her wedding vows to Charlotte, seven years ago:

You were the first person I ever fell for. Truly, deeply fell for. And as much as I’d thought all of me had moved on from you, I was so, so wrong. Every day that we’re together feels like a dream. Loving you and being loved by you is everything I wanted but never thought I’d have. Being with you feels like something I’d imagined so long ago. I’d written this dream off as the na?ve fantasy of a young woman who didn’t know any better, but it’s not. It’s real. You, Charlotte Thompson, really are the person I’d always dreamed you were. You really are the dream come true. And now I get to live the rest of my life with you, and I’ll never take that for granted. The reality is that I can’t imagine being happier than I am with you. We both went down other avenues in life without each other, and they didn’t work. We could exist in those other realities, but I would never be as happy as I am here, with you.

She’d thought about those other realities sometimes. Occasionally, her mind would still wander.

What if she and Charlotte hadn’t spent so long apart? What if she and Charlotte had found their way back to one another sooner? What if, what if, what if?

She used to get caught up in those what-ifs. When Charlotte had broken her heart all those years ago, she’d dwelled in so many of them. When she’d been going through her divorce, she’d errantly thought about Charlotte and wondered, before she’d promptly cut that train of thought right off. Even when she and Charlotte had reconnected, she’d had those fleeting wonderings.

But as she and Charlotte had paved out their path together, she’d thought about what-ifs less and less.

Because she wouldn’t change a thing they had.

If things had been different, would she have ever been on the receiving end of Charlotte’s beautiful proposal? If things had been different, she couldn’t imagine that Charlotte would have stood last in line at Sutton’s book signing, lingering until they were alone. She couldn’t imagine that Charlotte would have slid her copy of Sutton’s romance novel onto the table, giving her a smile that gave away nothing and asking her to sign it.

Sutton had already known what she’d inscribe to Charlotte in that moment. She’d already known that she was going to thank Charlotte for encouraging her to fulfill her writing dream. For reading every draft Sutton wrote and offering feedback. For asking Sutton to write her biography in the first place, forcing Sutton to really write again.

She’d flipped the book open to the dedication page— For Charlotte, for giving me the real-life romance novel experience— only to swiftly stop upon seeing that there was already writing on the page. Charlotte’s neat handwriting read:

Darling,

We both know that, unlike you, I’m not a clever writer. But I love this novel. Granted, I love everything you write, but I love it because it’s amazing.

Because YOU are amazing.

I’m not much of a romance reader, you know that, but when you write it, I feel swept up in it. I have to believe it’s because you, Sutton Spencer, have changed my views on love. You are the romantic who swept me off my feet over a decade ago, and I’ve never been the same since. So it only makes sense that your romance writing makes me feel the same.

I know you weren’t sure how to write their proposal, and we talked through so many options. You wanted it to feel authentic to the characters, to the lives they live, to the love they share.

I want our proposal to be the same.

And what better way than for me to ask you here and now, at a book signing? You did, after all, come back into my life to write my story. You just didn’t know at the time that you’d rewritten the course of my story long ago.

There is no one else for me in this world. There is no one else I want to support, to lean on, to cherish, to challenge and be challenged by. There is no one else I would ever dream of marrying. But I want to marry you, Sutton.

Please tell me you feel the same way, and that you will marry me.

Sutton hadn’t known at what point she’d started crying, but she could feel the tears falling down her cheeks as she’d wordlessly looked up at Charlotte, already nodding.

“Of course,” she’d managed. “Of course I feel the same way, love.”

Charlotte’s smile had been tinged with nerves then, but as Sutton had been reading, she’d pulled out the ring—a sapphire with diamonds studded around the gem. Whatever decorum Sutton had managed until that moment was destroyed, and she’d truly started crying as Charlotte slid the ring on her finger. She didn’t even remember how she’d gotten around the table, but she knew that she was blessedly close enough to kiss Charlotte and throw her arms around her shoulders to pull her in for a tight hug.

“That’s amazing. Because Lucy, Regan, and Emma are all waiting at home for us to share the good news and celebrate,” Charlotte had whispered in her ear, her own voice hoarse.

If things had been different, Sutton didn’t know if she would have Lucy, and she couldn’t imagine a world without her.

Maybe she would have had more children, something Sutton had always imagined for herself, after coming from such a large family.

“I never had the burning desire to be a parent,” Charlotte had said to her thoughtfully, as they’d cleaned up after Lucy’s seventh birthday. “I love being Lucy’s bonus parent,” she added quickly, even though she didn’t have to.

Sutton knew how much Charlotte adored Lucy; she saw it every day.

“I just… I never had that drive. Obviously, I was never going to do it alone, and I was single for most of my life, so…” Charlotte sighed, her eyebrows knitting together.

“What if you hadn’t been?” Sutton had asked, unbearably curious about that particular what-if.

“I don’t know.” She’d pursed her lips. “I think, with the right partner”—Charlotte had aimed a meaningful look at Sutton, one that made her stomach tingle—“that I would have wanted it. Because I look at Lucy, and I see so much of you, and I love that. I love this little person who came from you. But I think I would have been scared out of my mind, too.”

A disbelieving laugh had escaped Sutton. “Scared?! Charlotte, you’re in control of every situation. Even with Lucy, you’re a natural. What would you have been scared of?”

“Of being like my parents, darling,” Charlotte succinctly answered, even though the response had Sutton shaking her head immediately.

“You have never been anything but present and engaged,” she countered, needing Charlotte to know that.

“Well, stepping in with Lucy is very different than making the choice to start the process from the beginning.”

Sutton didn’t disagree, but she honestly believed that doing what Charlotte had done—throw her lot in with Sutton’s as a single mother—was a lot scarier and harder for most people than starting from scratch.

“Do you want to have more?” Charlotte asked, her tone deep and considering as she tilted her head and looked at Sutton with big, probing eyes.

“Like… hypothetically or literally?” Sutton had needed the clarification because the question had completely bowled her over.

Charlotte breathed out a warm laugh as she’d stepped closer and slid a lock of Sutton’s hair behind her ear. “Literally, darling. I know that you’d imagined yourself with more than one child in life and that circumstances with Layla didn’t work out. But I want you to know that if it’s a conversation you want to have with me, I’m open to it.”

All right, now Sutton could have been knocked over with a feather. “You are ?”

It hadn’t even been a topic she’d thought to bring up with Charlotte, in all honesty.

Charlotte laughed, stroking her thumb down Sutton’s cheek. “Yes, and thank you for that shocked reaction.”

“I just, I never thought about it,” she admitted.

“Well, if you want to think about it, then we can do it together,” Charlotte suggested softly. Sweetly.

Sutton’s heart skipped a beat as she’d stared into Charlotte’s eyes. It skipped another beat as she imagined—so, so easily—having a baby with Charlotte’s genetics.

Slowly, though, she found herself shaking her head. “I think, if things were different, I’d be over the moon about having your baby.” In fact, she knew she would.

“But the reality is, I’m almost forty right now. I’d be even older by the time we’d have the baby. And while people have children in their forties, I think I want our life together. Right now, we have Lucy. But once she’s older and needs us less consistently, I want our life to be about us. We’ve never been able to have that, you and me. A full-blown relationship that centers on just you and me. And I think I’d like that.”

Yes, in another life, things would have been so very different. If it was another life with Charlotte, Sutton imagined she’d love it.

But as she came back to the present to watch Charlotte duck down and look closely at what she was doing on the counter as she hummed a victorious tune, she couldn’t imagine changing this world for any other.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, finally pushing off of the archway and walking closer.

Close enough to peer over Charlotte’s shoulder and see that she was making homemade pasta.

“Your interruptions are always welcome, darling,” Charlotte assured her as she pinched the middle of the little square she’d cut. “Ha! Look at that. Farfalle. When he visits next week, Caleb is going to eat his grubby little words and rue the day he told me he didn’t believe I could do this.”

Laughing, Sutton reached out and wrapped her arms around Charlotte’s waist, pulling her back against her as she nuzzled into her neck. Her hair was up, but a few soft strands fell to tickle Sutton’s cheek, and she inhaled a deep breath, taking in Charlotte’s scent.

“I love that competitive edge,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Charlotte’s soft skin.

Her own words reminded her of the plan .

Charlotte leaned back against her, reaching up behind her to stroke her fingers lightly through Sutton’s hair. “I’m so glad you enjoy it, as I’m not quite sure it’s something that could ever not be a part of me.”

Sutton’s stomach swooped low, anticipation filtering through her. “I know.”

After another few seconds, Charlotte turned in her arms to face her. “Hello, darling.”

Sutton ducked down as Charlotte pushed herself up, their lips brushing in a familiar kiss. It was simple and quick, something that never failed to make Sutton feel completely at peace.

“Lucy’s all settled at camp?” Charlotte asked as they broke their kiss.

“She is,” Sutton confirmed, stroking her hands down so they hovered over the small of Charlotte’s back. “She found your letter to her in her backpack, and she is very excited to read it tonight.”

Charlotte smiled, warmly and radiantly, as she nodded. “Good. I wish I’d been able to join you on the drive.”

Sutton paused as the bells in her head went off and signaled to her that this was the moment . “Um, well… it was a good drive to have with just the two of us. We had a really good conversation.”

Her stomach flip-flopped as she could see the curiosity glint in Charlotte’s eyes.

“Oh? What about?”

Sutton wondered if Charlotte could feel how her heart started pounding just a little bit faster. “I guess there really is no point in dragging this out or anything. But I know it’s a big deal, so I wanted to make sure all of the i ’s were dotted and the t ’s were crossed before bringing it up to you.”

The lightness in Charlotte’s expression faded, replaced by something much more serious. She slid her hand up, cupping Sutton’s jaw. “Darling, what is it? Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Quickly, Sutton shook her head, reaching up to take Charlotte’s hand in her own. “I’m okay, I swear to you. There’s nothing wrong.”

Skepticism was still etched into Charlotte’s features as she squeezed Sutton’s hand. “All right, I’m listening.”

“I’ve just—I’ve been thinking about this for a while. It started last summer and has been in the back of my mind since then.”

Ever since the last Democratic National Convention regarding this past election. They’d all watched—Sutton, Charlotte, and Lucy—as the candidate Charlotte had endorsed for months and had put the full power of the Thompson name, money, and influence behind had officially been announced the nominee.

The thoughts had only grown more intent, bigger, and louder in November, when she’d won. Again at January’s inauguration.

“I know we’ve talked about this through the years, Charlotte, but I can’t stomach the idea of being the thing that holds you back from your lifelong dream forever.”

Charlotte’s eyebrows drew down in confusion as she slowly shook her head. “You aren’t holding me back from anything , Sutton. What are you talking about?”

“But I am,” she insisted, reaching out to take Charlotte’s other hand, needing Charlotte to hear her. To see how serious she was. “When we decided to be together, I told you that it had to come at the cost of your future in politics. And I have to stand by that decision because I really do think it was the best thing for Lucy.”

“I agree with you.” There was no room for doubt in Charlotte’s tone. “I didn’t necessarily see if from your point of view then because I wasn’t a parent yet, but I know how I was raised. I know how much attention was on me, how much pressure there was because of my grandmother. And it was a life I wanted, so it was okay with me. But I wouldn’t have wanted that for Lucy either.” A comforting, crooked smile pulled up the corners of Charlotte’s mouth. “Darling, I do hope this isn’t something that has been eating you up inside for years.”

“It’s not,” she promised. She didn’t think she could have hidden that from Charlotte, and she wouldn’t have wanted to. “I trust that you made all of your own decisions and that you chose the path you wanted in life.”

“Thank you, because I did. I love our life,” Charlotte assured, softly.

“I believe you do, and I do, too. But what I want to tell you is that… I think our family is ready now. If you’re ready to go back into politics, then we’re ready to support that,” Sutton finally said the words she’d been wanting to tell Charlotte for months.

“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. If it was up to me and only me, Charlotte, I would have never done anything but support you. But by the next election cycle, Lucy will be over eighteen. I’ve talked to her about this, about how she’d feel if you were to run. We’ve discussed the publicity, how it would affect her life. We had the final conversation about it today, and she wanted me to officially pass on her endorsement.” A smile broke over Sutton’s lips as she squeezed Charlotte’s hands in hers once again.

“And I’ve talked about it with Layla as well because the last thing we would need in a campaign would be her publicly being unsupportive. But given Lucy’s age and how involved Layla is now with her other children, she has no issues with it.”

Sutton paused, her excitement only starting to dwindle when Charlotte stared up at her, not saying a word.

Confused, Sutton wondered if she was not being clear enough. “I really mean this, Charlotte. I would have brought it up to you sooner, but I wanted to have these conversations with Lucy and Layla and make sure that I could mean it without a shadow of a doubt that you have all of our absolute support.”

Sutton had anticipated multiple outcomes from this moment. Most of them included Charlotte breaking into a wide, beaming smile, throwing her arms around Sutton in unfettered excitement. They included anything after that, from Charlotte tearing Sutton’s clothing off for celebratory sex to hopping immediately into planning mode.

Nothing she’d imagined looked like this. Like Charlotte staring blankly at her—well, perhaps this wasn’t necessarily a blank look. On second glance it looked more like consternation. Conflict, even.

Which only served to confuse Sutton even more.

It had been so, so long since she’d been unable to read Charlotte like a book—like a picture book , specifically—so this was unsettling. Sutton’s stomach twisted with the emotion.

“I’m sorry, love, I really thought this would be a happy moment,” she spoke slowly, even as her thoughts moved quickly, trying to figure out what was happening. “Are you okay?”

Slowly, Charlotte took a step back, disconnecting them; then another, so she could lean against the counter. “I’m okay,” she assured her softly.

“I hope you understand that I’m not entirely convinced?” Sutton attempted to tease her, but it was difficult when she saw the pronounced wrinkles in Charlotte’s forehead.

It was the look she wore when she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around something.

Wondering if that was it, Sutton cautiously tried again. “Should I start making phone calls for you? Get out the planner so we can start making decisions? I’ve already been thinking about slogans.”

The smile that flashed over Charlotte’s face was small but entirely genuine, and it helped to soothe Sutton’s worries. “Of course you have. But… no. I don’t want that.”

There was awe in her tone, like Charlotte had figured something out. Sutton was still desperately trying to catch up.

Charlotte blew out a deep breath and pushed herself away from the counter. Then she reached up and cupped Sutton’s jaw, tugging her down to brush her lips against Sutton’s again. This kiss was deeper than their brief hello, lingering.

It felt soft and sweet, and she felt the tightness in her shoulders relax from it, especially as she felt Charlotte’s thumbs sweep gently over her cheeks. Okay. Yes. This was good and normal.

“You are perfect, darling. But I won’t be running for president.”

Charlotte punctuated her statement with another kiss—this one swift and final—before she slid her hands down and squeezed Sutton’s hips. “Now, I’d really like you to video this cooking triumph for me to send a teaser to Caleb.”

Dumbfounded, Sutton could only stare. Okay, this was not good and normal, and—“ What ?”

“My phone is on the island,” Charlotte informed her, tilting her head to where her phone presumably was. “I’d get it, but my hands are flour-y.”

“No, not—just—stop?” she requested, feeling like she was losing her mind.

Sutton lifted her hands to rest on Charlotte’s shoulders, making sure they were standing face to face, that there could be no miscommunication or misunderstanding as she echoed her former statements. “Charlotte, I’m not joking; I would never joke about this. I’m incredibly, utterly serious. Our family is ready for you to run for president. I want to see you fulfil that dream. I want it,” she assured her, wondering if she sounded as crazy as she felt.

What was she saying that Charlotte wasn’t getting? They were never so misaligned.

“I know you aren’t joking,” Charlotte assured her again, shaking her head incredulously up at Sutton. “You would never joke about this.”

“I wouldn’t,” she swore.

“I know,” Charlotte repeated, chuckling as they completed their verbal circle. “And I’m not joking when I tell you that I won’t be running for president.”

Sutton had always felt that flabbergasted was a ridiculous word, but somehow it was the only one that matched her mental state. “Charlotte Elizabeth Spencer-Thompson, this is your dream; what are you even talking about?”

Charlotte’s laughter faded away as her gaze searched Sutton’s. “It isn’t my dream, though. Not anymore.”

“You really don’t have to say that on my account,” Sutton insisted, certain it was the only thing that made sense. Charlotte was trying to put her first somehow.

“I’m not. I swear on your life, I’m simply telling you how I feel in this moment.” Charlotte bit down on her bottom lip, clearly searching for the right way to explain herself.

Because she was Charlotte, it didn’t take long.

“Darling, I have never resented you. I’ve never resented the fact that I didn’t continue my career in politics. And it would kill me if you thought that was the case.”

Sutton shook her head, answering Charlotte’s wordless question.

When she did, Charlotte squeezed her hips again, relief melting over her face. “Good. Was leaving politics an easy decision? No; you know that. But I’ve always understood why it had to be that way. And”—she rolled her lips, her eyes taking on a faraway look—“somewhere along the line, it stopped being what I wanted.”

Sutton wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to continue standing, given how strong the shock was coursing through her veins.

Charlotte’s low, throaty laugh washed over her. “Oh, that look on your face is exactly what I was feeling when you laid this on me a few minutes ago. This realization that… I don’t want that anymore. Trust me, I never believed I’d turn down your support for my rejoining the political world. But… I am.”

Sutton lifted one of her hands to rub desperately at her temple. “You don’t want to be in politics again? You don’t want to run for president?”

She almost felt silly, simply repeating the sentiments Charlotte was telling her point-blank. And yet, she didn’t. She needed to say this aloud for it to make sense to her in any way.

“Come here,” Charlotte murmured, moving to take Sutton’s hand in her own and leading her to sit at the kitchen island.

Sutton melted gratefully into the seat. Charlotte didn’t sit herself but instead stood right at Sutton’s side.

“We take family vacations.” Charlotte’s voice was low and thoughtful in Sutton’s ear. “Every year, we go somewhere with Lucy. You and I take long weekends wherever we want to go. And when we do that? I don’t have to take phone calls or worry about what’s happening at the foundation in my absence because I know that everything will be there for me when I get back. I mastered making pasta. Ten years ago, I could hardly make an omelet! I’ve read so many books, Sutton. Do you know how many books I was able to sit down and really dig into throughout my thirties?”

Sutton shook her head; honestly, she wasn’t sure she knew anything right now.

“The answer is none. I’d started many , thinking I’d have a weekend to myself, time off from work, but I never did; not really. And the older I got, the more my career progressed, the less time I had.”

As she spoke, Charlotte’s hand fell to the small of Sutton’s back, rubbing small circles there.

“When you first started speaking, I had this vision of what you were saying. The vision I’d had for my entire life. And it didn’t excite me the way it used to. Instead, I could see all of the missed vacations. All of the time we get to spend together, interrupted with phone calls I can’t ignore. The hobbies I enjoy, all left abandoned.” Charlotte’s voice was introspective, and as Sutton stared at her, she could tell that her wife was also speaking to herself. That Charlotte herself was re-experiencing what she was saying.

“I wanted to reach the pinnacle of my political career so I could make a positive impact. So I could make changes I wanted to see, changes we need, but at the foundation, I’m doing that in a far more direct, quicker, more effective way than I could from the Oval Office. I don’t have a Congress or constituents to answer to; I am the deciding factor on funding charities and social programs.”

There was that passion in Charlotte’s voice, the one she’d always had when she’d made speeches or when she’d been in debates or spoken in Congress, that determination and contained emotion that made her so damn compelling.

Sutton was riveted as she stared at Charlotte. Nearly convinced, she cautiously asked, “You are still so involved in politics, though.”

And Charlotte was. She had a direct line to many senators, to the secretary of state, the Treasury, the Speaker of the House. She actively funded and advised handfuls of people still actively working in the Capitol.

“I’ll never walk away from that world; it’s too important to me,” Charlotte agreed. “But that proves my point; the influence I have while at the helm of the foundation makes a huge difference. I get to endorse and support so many politicians I align with; in a way, I have far, far more power from my position on the sidelines than I would in just about any other position I could hold. And with it, I get to life my life exactly the way I want it.”

Charlotte shifted so that she was sitting draped over Sutton’s lap, sliding her arm around Sutton’s neck. Their eyes were only inches apart, making Sutton able to see how very serious Charlotte was.

“If things had been different in life, maybe this wouldn’t be how I feel. If I’d had a balance throughout my twenties and thirties between work and my personal life, I don’t know if I’d be able to walk away from politics. But… I didn’t. I gave my entire self to that world, until I had nothing else.”

Charlotte slid her hand so that she could toy with the ends of Sutton’s hair. “And then you came back into my world, and everything changed. I missed so much time with you; I’m not willing to sacrifice any more of it.”

Sutton breathed out a sigh, feeling that echo inside of her that she’d felt so long ago— in love, in love, in love .

“You really feel that way? You feel good about this?” She just had to make sure one more time.

“I really do,” Charlotte confirmed. “I hope you feel good about it, too, and ready for the rest of our lives to be just that—our lives. Dedicated to one another.”

In moments like this, she still couldn’t believe this was her life. That Charlotte Thompson loved her this way, that they’d found one another again. That they’d gotten so lucky as to get another chance to be together.

Sutton leaned in to press her forehead against Charlotte’s, breathing her in. “Yes, Charlotte. I’m ready for anything with you.”