The Commitment (Unrestrained 2)

"Absolutely," my father said, smiling at Elaine when she handed him a plate of pasta. "Get the facts out there so there's no misinterpretation."

She raised her eyebrows slightly.

Drake let go of my hand and then passed me the salad. I glanced at his face, but it was unreadable. If he and my father were doing this deliberately, there was no sign on either of their faces, but Elaine was flushing a bit.

"You all right dear?" my father asked, turning to me. "Your cheeks are red."

"Just the heat from the stove, I guess," I said, forcing a smile. Elaine glanced in my direction and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

These two men were trying to manipulate us. Or else, we both had guilty consciences.

"Did the person who released the wrong data do it deliberately to make your record look better than it is?" I asked, my hand shaking a bit when I picked up my water glass.

"No," my father said, shaking his head. "He used data that was preliminary instead of the final data. It wasn't deceptive, just incorrect. Unfortunately, it makes my staffers look either like liars or bumbling incompetents, so either way it's not a good news day for me."

"That's too bad, Ethan," Drake said. "What will happen to the staffer?"

"He'll have to be reprimanded of course. He shouldn't have released the data until he cleared it with Greg, but I'll have to ha

ve a little talk with him, make sure he wasn't doing it to hurt the campaign. You know, sabotage it. Can't ever know what's going on in someone else's heart, can you?"

He dug into his pasta and then made a face of pleasure. When he finished chewing, he turned to Elaine.

"Darling, I do believe this is the best you've ever made."

Elaine smiled at my father and then glanced at me, biting her lip. I turned to look at Drake, who was busy playing with the food on his plate, moving the hunks of mushroom around as if lost in thought.

"Drake, is it not to your liking?" my father asked, as he scooped up another forkful of pasta.

"Hmm?" Drake glanced up. "Oh, sorry," he said as if pulled back from some distant place. "No, I was just thinking about what you said." Drake lifted a fork to his mouth and then smiled at Elaine. "The pasta is delicious. Worthy of a restaurant. Bravo."

Elaine smiled, her smile strained and then she turned to her own plate.

I tried to eat, but my appetite all but fled due to the circumstances. I ate some salad, washing it down with copious amounts of water, but my stomach wasn't happy about the rich pasta.

We four ate in silence for a few minutes, nothing audible except the clink of cutlery on china, the strains of Elaine's jazz recording in the background.

My father chewed away with gusto. If he knew about the photo in the paper, he didn’t show it, but I suppose decades presiding over court cases had ensured his views on the guilt or innocence of a suspect were well-hidden. Unless he wanted you to know how he felt and then it was clear as day. Either my father knew and was hiding it, or he didn't know and was blissfully unaware.

He glanced up and smiled at me. "Sweetheart, you're not eating your pasta."

I put my fork down. "I'm not feeling all that well," I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "A bit tired, I guess. It's been a stressful week."

He nodded and then turned back to his food.

Drake continued to be silent beside me, pushing his own food around.

He had to know and was waiting for me to tell him. To confess.

It was then I started to feel panic building inside of me, my breath faster, my heart rate increasing, my palms sweaty. I'd had occasional panic attacks after coming back from Mangaize, and had been in counseling to train myself not to respond to my body's cues.

"Excuse me," I said and stood, knocking my chair back abruptly. I left the table and made a beeline to the door.

"Are you all right, sweetie?" my father called out to me. I said nothing, walking to the bathroom off my bedroom, needing to be alone to regain control over myself.

I closed and locked the door behind me and stood at the vanity, looking at myself in the mirror. I took in a deep breath, using self-talk to calm my anxiety, and soon, I started to relax again. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Kate?" It was Drake.