But I couldn’t find the words. I felt like I was caught between several different worlds, lost in a moment of strain and terror.
And somewhere, in the background, I could somehow hear Jason laughing as he plotted his to ruin my life—to alter the course of my love. I brought my hands around my waist and bit my lip, not ready to say anything at all.
POWER #3
Chapter One
Finally, after not speaking for what seemed like years, decades even, he pulled away from me. I watched in stunned silence as he brought his clothes around his pulsing muscles, as he pulled his boxers up around his waist. He spun around and began buttoning his shirt, watching me all the time. There was such tension between us—something I couldn’t possibly break, I knew, even if I tried.
I opened my mouth. Feeling my stark nakedness, I’d begun to grow cold. But all the while, my heart beat faster and faster in my chest. I felt like a scared rabbit, so close to my death. But without a final goodbye, without a final word, Xavier exited the small room of the White House. And I was in the candlelit darkness once more, on my own.
I sighed and brought my face into my hands, rubbing at my temples a bit. He’d said the words. He’d said he’d leave her. But that couldn’t be so. I had so much to live for, beyond marriage. He’d made a commitment to that woman, and I wasn’t to be the one to refute that commitment. I understood that presidents did not get divorced. They held their wives beside them, no matter what. Even Clinton, in the midst of that terrorizing scandal, had stood by Hillary.
I righted myself on the couch and heard a sigh from outside the door. It startled me, and I quickly covered my breasts with my clothes. I called out, “Who’s there?”
The man grunted outside the door. The predatory instincts of it made my toes curl. “Hello?”
Finally, he spoke. “It’s just me, Amanda. Dimitri.”
My heart began to dull in my chest. So Dimitri was waiting for me outside, waiting for me to get dressed once more. My ex-friend turned Secret Service agent. I found the words: “Be—be there in a minute!” The syllables quivered.
I brought my dress around me once more and slotted my feet into my stilettos. I righted myself and tapped toward the door, taking a final look at where it had happened, where I’d felt the greatest pleasure of my young life, where I’d learned that the most powerful man in the world was falling in love with me. I sniffed and spun back around, pushing through the door. I nodded to Dimitri. “You want to take me home?” I whispered. I felt a small tear fall from my large, orb-like eyes.
He nodded curtly, looking at me with a confused, earnest expression. He couldn’t ask me any questions that he wanted to ask. He was a cold and stoic Secret Service agent now. He brought his arm out for me and I accepted it, walking without a great deal of stability toward the door. I was going to get home.
I sat in the back of the black, sleek vehicle and breathed into the window, watching the way the fog grew from my mouth. We whisked past the monuments. I called up to Dimitri in a harsh, empty voice. I told him to take me to a different address—to the address of Rachel. The thought of returning to that camera-laden apartment where Jason could watch me shivering with fear and anticipation made me queasy.
Dimitri swept the car toward Rachel’s apartment and stopped curtly, forcing me nearly out of my seat. I hadn’t been buckled in. I brought my hands over my waist and coughed a few times, feeling the anxiety of the evening pass through me. “Thank you, Dimitri,” I whispered. And then, I was gone.
I skirted up the steps toward Rachel’s apartment. I knew she’d be home; I knew that she was a homebody, now—that she was so different than the woman I’d met all those years ago, when we’d been ready to take on the world. But really: I didn’t feel any more ready, in that moment, than I ever had. I felt that I wanted to cower beneath something, at least for a while, before conquering anything once more.
I tapped at the door. I heard soft feet scamper toward it, and then I saw Rachel’s tired, if beautiful, face in the crack. “Amanda. I didn’t think you’d be back tonight,” she stated, yawning a bit as she did it. She unlocked the latch and allowed me to enter. I flumped onto the couch and brought my feet up under my body. I looked at her, shaking my head. “I don’t think it’s safe at my apartment,” I whispered.
She knelt down toward me, her eyes frightened. “What do you mean?”
But I couldn’t tell her about the concrete knowledge I had about Jason; I couldn’t tell her the real reason he’d followed me, caught me on film. She couldn’t know. She probably didn’t think much of me as it was. “It’s just a feeling I have,” I laughed, still giving off that frightened, little bird expression. “I can’t explain it.”
Rachel nodded, her eyebrows furrowing. She bit her lip and tapped at my naked knee. “You can stay as long as you need to,” she whispered.
Ultimately, I fell asleep on the couch like that. The next morning, I called into work, unable to lift myself into the air. Jason smiled into the phone as I told him, “I can’t do it today, Jason. You’ll have to take over my responsibilities, if only for a while.”
Jason’s tongue snapped at the top of his mouth with satisfaction. I could hear it. “Take all the time you need, Missy.” And then he hung up the phone.
Rachel brought takeout home that evening and I ate it while wearing her crumpled pajamas, laughing a bit at the small stories she told about her life. I couldn’t remember a single one in the moments after; they glimmered in my mind for an instant and then they were gone. But it was so nice to speak to someone, to feel safe.
Finally, on Thursday of that week—a full four days later—I returned to work. I kept my head down as I entered the White House, inhaling with my nose and exhaling with my mouth to keep my anxiety down. I’d had thoughts of the president coursing through my head non-stop since that evening when he’d told me too much, when he’d revealed such personal things about himself. I could still see the sort of dull shock in his face as he got dressed and left me, unsure of what else to say after he’d given me his heart.
I got caught up quickly at work, even talking to Jason for a bit about concrete elements of the campaign. He walked me through a meeting he’d had with the governor of California, and I nodded, asking questions, making notes. I felt like a reproduction of my previous self, even if the image wasn’t precise. Perhaps I would only be smog from there on out, ready to dissipate into the horizon.
I began writing a rough draft of a press release around lunchtime and worked all the way till 3, allowing my mind to formulate these words and phrases with such precision. I could get through this, my mind kept telling my heart. I could get through this, I could deal with Jason; I could ignore the president forever.
I stood and began passing out the press releases to the other members of the campaign team, announcing to them our next steps for the education reform discussion. We were filtering it through the country, getting them excited about a brighter, more solid future. I stretched my neck around, allowing my head to loll back. I was exhausted. And I’d hardly thought about the president the entire day.
I bolted to the bathroom at around 4, down the hall. I felt such a foreboding nature from the Oval Office. I hadn’t seen Xavier and I wondered what he was doing in there. Sitting, staring forward, bringing his fingers together politely over and over again. Like he was plotting something.
I tapped my cleaned fingers against my blouse as I walked past on my way back to the desk I h
eld at the helm of the campaign team. Suddenly, I heard the Oval Office door creak open. My head jolted to the left and peered into the earnest expression of Xavier, who was leaning outside the door like a schoolboy.