Protecting Freedom

I reach up and sweep my chestnut-brown bangs away from my face. Maybe I should have taken a little longer to get ready this morning. I had a feeling he might be here today, so I rushed to make sure I didn’t miss him. I’ve noticed when he does stop by it’s always early. He hasn’t been here in over a week and my heart was starting to ache with his absence. How can I miss someone I’ve never even really talked to?

“Mr. Washington is in there with him,” she tells me, making my heart flutter. I’m going to get to see him and I don’t care if I have to stay out here all day just to catch a small glimpse.

“What do you know about him?” I finally ask the question I’ve never been brave enough to. I don’t want to show my attraction to him, but I’m past the point where I can stand it. I have to know. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him that I’ve been driven to the edge of control. I lean against the door and brace myself for what she’s going to say.

“He’s a little too old for you, Honor.” She raises an eyebrow at me. I have to bite my tongue to remind her of the age difference between her and my dad, but I know she’s only trying to protect me. “But,” she continues, “I know he’s a former Marine. He’s not active as far as I can recall, but you never know for sure around here.”

I begin to agree with her, but the door I’m leaning against opens up at the same time and I let out a scream as I start to fall into the Oval Office. I close my eyes tight and brace for the impact, but instead I fall into strong arms. I’m pulled close to a wide chest, and I open my eyes to see the deep green I dream about staring back at me. They hold me in a trance and I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.

Over the past few years I’ve changed. It’s hard not to when you live in the spotlight. I’ve transformed from the awkward gangly kid into a woman. The news and blogs are not kind and always have something to say about how I look. Recently it’s all about how much weight I’ve gained, and some of the comments are about how my boobs have gotten too big. As if I have control over that. My hormones took off and I developed nearly overnight. I’m still getting used to this new body that is drawing more attention than ever. Does Washington see it too, or does he still see me as a kid?

“Hi,” I chirp louder than I mean to.

He grunts as he pulls me into him and my breath catches. The air around us is charged, and I swear I feel something spark between us. But he only holds me to him for a brief second before he puts me on my feet and steps away. He mumbles something I don’t catch, and I notice his breathing is heavy. He looks pissed as he creates distance between us, and I can’t help but feel foolish for falling on him.

“You all right?” My dad steps over, and I think he’s talking to me, but his eyes are on Washington. I glance back to Washington and see why he’s asking. The white button-up shirt under his black suit has a blooming red spot on it and is beginning to spread across the material.

“Oh my god.” I move closer to him as he untucks his shirt to reveal a white bandage that’s soaked through. “What happened?” I ask as worry builds in my stomach.

No one answers me, and I look up at Washington who is completely stoic.

“That’s classified, Honor,” Washington finally says. I don’t think he’s ever called me by my real name before. “I think I just pulled a stitch when I caught you. It’s fine. I’ve had worse.” He tries to reassure me, but now I’m wracked with guilt.

“Why don’t you go see Dr. Morgan and I’ll meet up with you when you’re done. Then we can go,” My dad says to Washington.

Washington nods at him then gives me one more glance before he leaves. My eyes follow him as walks away, and I want so badly to go with him.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” July nods before closing the door and leaving me alone with my dad.

“He’ll be fine.” Dad wraps an arm around me, bringing me to his side as he kisses the top of my head. “Let’s have a quick bite before I need to leave.”

“How long will you be gone? You’re going to miss my birthday aren’t you.” He starts to busy himself shoving some stuff from his desk into his briefcase, but I can see guilt wash over his face.