Page 146 of The Americana Playbook

I want to tell her that my love for her is bigger now, but I hold off. Because something inside of me is terrified that she might say it back. And after sharing so much of our relationship, even though I love the guys in this room, I want that moment for myself. And another thing I don’t add is for some strange reason, us together feels more important.

Parker’s eyes twinkle in the light. “It’s so much bigger.”

Congressman Cam

In Boston on the 6th for meetings. How is the early afternoon?

I tense,staring at Fitz as he slips on a pair of pajama bottoms, stretching his arms above his head. August 6 is Fitz’s first preseason game down in Tampa. I try to do the math, but I know it’ll be next to impossible to get to kick off in time. My heart sinks. I’ve waited weeks for Camden to come up to Boston to meet with me and Abby, and now? Now I’m screwed because my wifely duties will be compromised by trying to do the right thing. And maybe, I might’ve felt different about that weeks ago. But now? I want to show up for and support my husband. I also need to do the right thing. It’s just not theeasything, especially after such a wonderful weekend.

It might’ve not been a mini-honeymoon. But it was everything we needed. We might’ve stayed out too late at the dance and had to stay horizontal most of the next day, but Fitz and I found something during this weekend—each other.

“Italian?” Fitz asks. “I’ll order now.”

“Sure.” I wait for him to leave before returning my attention to my phone.

You’ll need to come to me.

I’d feel more comfortable meeting Cam at home than I would in public, and I’m sure Abby would too. She deserves to be heard in this. But before I tell her to mark it in her calendar, I have to do one thing. It just happens to be onehardthing I can’t quite explain over dinner, which I just push around my plate an hour later.

“If you’re not hungry, I haven’t worked you out hard enough,” Fitz says, playfully palming my ass as he walks by me in the kitchen.

I put away the carbonara I’ve hardly touched into Tupperware while he rinses our plates at the sink. Snapping the lid closed, I take a deep breath, watching him load the dishwasher. This weekend felt so magical and easy and normal. My heart pounds against my chest as my stomach twists with nerves. Part of me is dying to tell Fitz everything, but I don’t want to burden what the light air between me and Fitz with heaviness. That’s putting it mildly. I once thought my past was heavy. Now, it’s like a dead weight.

I carry that deadweight into the bedroom, changing into pajamas and then using the bathroom when Fitz is done to brush my teeth. When I finish, he’s already in bed, relaxed but wide eyed.

“Come here.”

Fitz’s lazy smile calls to me. I want to. So much. I want to crawl into bed, nuzzle myself against his chest, and forget absolutely all of this.

But I can’t. Because Sarah looked out for me. And I have to look out for her.

Fitz pushes up on his elbow. “What’s going on?”

I sigh, staring at the door and wondering if I could just keep this a secret to protect Fitz a little longer.

“Parker. If you want to use the lock tonight, you can.”

I wince. Fitz is sweet, too thoughtful. Every night we’ve shared the same bed, he always says the same thing. And most nights I did. But the door is the last thing on my mind.

“It’s not about the lock.”

It’s never been about the lock.

After a few deep breaths, I make my way over and climb onto the bed. “I have to tell you something.”

“Parker, you can tell me anything.”

My shoulders shake as I try so hard not to cry.

Fitz reaches for my hand. “What’s going on? What happened?”

So much. I feel it—the weight of everything past and present on top of my shoulders, pushing me down. I want that weight off. But I don’t want to shovel it onto Fitz.

“There’s nothing you could do that would make me love you any less.”

Love. It hasn’t been a word Fitz has kept secret, but one he doesn’t use as often as I know he wants to. It’s a word I’m worried I don’t know the meaning of. But maybe, slowly, Fitz is showing me. Whether he continues to do that after tonight, I’m not so sure.

“Your preseason game is on the sixth, right?”

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