Hidden in Lies

by Rachael Duncan

  When I glance up, mug still to my mouth, I notice he’s fixated on my lips. My hand halts its movement toward the table as I wait for him to look away. Looking back up at my eyes, he becomes conscious of the fact that I’m watching him.

  He clears his throat before saying, “So, what’s on your agenda today? Are you planning on running any errands?”

  “Uh, n-no,” I say with a slight stutter. The effect he has on me is becoming more and more obvious. “My mother-in-law will be here this afternoon and staying here for a couple days.” God, I’m dreading this. That woman is so pretentious and blatantly rude. I’ve never met such a hostile person in my life.

  Alex simply nods his understanding and gets up to retrieve that extra cup of coffee on the counter. I sit and enjoy the quiet, knowing that in a couple hours it will cease to exist.

  The next morning after Cal left, the gloves came off.

  THIS MORNING STARTED out like any other, with the addition of my mother-in-law. I put on a happy smile, showed Cal just the right amount of affection to be deemed loving yet appropriate in front of his mother, and I kissed him adoringly when he left. Now here I am, standing in the doorway watching his car drive off. I wish I could stand here until she leaves, but I know that’s not possible. Might as well suck it up and deal with whatever venom she has prepared to throw my way.

  Turning on my designer heels, I close the front door and make my way back to the kitchen where I know she’s waiting. We’re expecting Aaron to show up any minute. Hopefully he shows up sooner rather than later so I don’t have to be alone with her. Entering the open kitchen, I first spot Alex sitting at one of the stools at the island. I’ve noticed that’s become his seat of choice except for when he sat at the breakfast nook with me yesterday. Glancing in that direction, I see she’s taken my seat in front of the window. I fight off a snarl that threatens to emerge at the thought of her tainting my favorite morning spot.

  “Can I get you anything while we wait for Aaron, Mrs. Fitzgerald?” I ask. When Cal and I started dating and he introduced me to his mother, I called her Mrs. Fitzgerald out of respect and to be polite. I kept waiting for the day when she would insist I not address her so formally and I could call her by her first name, Grace. Seven years later, and I’m still waiting.

  “No, thank you,” she responds coolly. I take a seat across from her and seek guidance from divine intervention to help me alleviate some of this awkwardness between us. The silence becomes unbearable, the only sound is of her nails drumming against the cherry wood of the table. I focus in on them, noticing the perfect manicure to go with the rest of her perfect ensemble. Her Burberry coat is delicately draped over her shoulders, no doubt ready to be slipped into as soon as Aaron dismisses us. Underneath that is a cashmere sweater paired with a skirt and heels. Her light-brown hair, which is void of any gray thanks to some dye, is styled in a bouncy bob that hits her chin, accentuating her sharp features. Her eyes are the same color as Cal’s and hold the same amount of kindness and concern in them for others.

  None.

  “It was so nice of you to come visit us.” I’m grasping at straws here and lying through my teeth. I would be perfectly content if I never had to see her again.

  She lets out a condescending laugh before saying, “I came here to see my son, not you.” Her voice lacks any emotion or empathy. I’m not sure why I’m so shocked since it’s not the first time she’s been a nasty bitch to me. Maybe because we’re usually completely alone when she does it, but I’m very much aware of the blue eyes I see from my peripheral staring at me.

  Looking down slightly in an attempt to hide my reddened face, I say quietly, “Yes, well once Aaron briefs us you’ll be free to go since Cal won’t be back for a few days.”

  “I can’t believe it.” I look up to see her shaking her head. “My son is going to be the next president of the United States and he’s got you riding his coattails to become the first lady.” If her words weren’t enough to show her disdain for me, the pure look of disgust written all over her face seals the deal.

  “I beg your pardon?” My eyes are wide from shock. Riding his coattails? Everything I do is for him and to better his career.

  “You don’t come from a well-bred family, my dear. You’re going to drag him down.” She looks down her nose at me in true elitist fashion. The first thought that goes through my head is, What am I? A fucking horse? How can this woman be so cold and callous to me? But she’s not done cutting me down and humiliating me. “You might as well have grown up in a trailer park for God’s sake. The media is going to have a field day with this one. Can you imagine the headlines? Callahan Fitzgerald,” she waves her hands high in the air, like she’s reading a marquee. “Slumming it with the gold digger from the trailer park. Too late to change it now. A divorce would look worse than marrying a person of low class. Oh, well,” she says with a shrug, “maybe his campaign can spin it so it’s a good thing. Like he brought you from rags to riches and shows compassion for those less fortunate than him.” I can feel the tips of my ears burning from the embarrassment I feel. She’s been abhorrent to me before, but she’s never thrown this shit in my face.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” I stand with my head held high, desperately clinging to what little dignity I have left. “Aaron should be here momentarily. I trust you can find the door to let him in.” With that, I turn to get as far away from this pompous, pitiful, cruel woman as fast as humanly possible. Looking at the tiled floor to avoid eye contact with Alex, I quickly brush past him and head up the stairs. I don’t want to face him after the exchange I just had with Grace.

  Humiliation doesn’t begin to explain what I feel right now. Once I’m up in my room, I quietly close the door and walk into the bathroom. I climb into the empty tub fully clothed, lay down, and close my eyes. Tears leak out the corners even though I try hard to hold them back. Her words cut me deeply today. Deeper than they have in the past. How can a person fault another human being for being poor? Does she think my parents wanted to struggle and worry where our next meal was going to come from? My mom and dad worked hard for every single thing we had. I’ve never been resentful for the things we had to go without. I knew it couldn’t be helped and I never begrudged my parents for it. They couldn’t help we were poor anymore than a dog can help it’s a dog. It’s not a conscious decision, it just is. Not all of us are fortunate enough to marry men from Ivy League schools who have trust funds to see their grandchildren through if they choose not to work. Myself excluded since I was taught at an influential age to pick money over love.

  A throat clearing has me springing my eyes open and jumping out of my skin. A small squeak escapes me as I look up and am met with a fierce look on a devastatingly handsome face.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, the concerned, genuine look from yesterday making another appearance. It throws me off slightly.

  Wiping away the tears from my cheeks, I sniffle and nod. My throat is clogged with emotion and I don’t trust my voice to sound strong enough to pull off the lie. I’m sure I’m not that convincing as it is with my tear-stained face, but why give him one more reason to not believe me?

  “You don’t look okay.” He walks further into the bathroom and has a seat on the edge of the tub. His scent washes over me, bringing about a calming effect.

  “I’m really sorry you had to hear that,” I say weakly. “She can be a bit much at times.” Why I’m making excuses for this woman I have no idea. Maybe it’s a way for me to save face. Blame it on the kooky personality and suddenly I’m off the hook.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Elizabeth. She was way out of line. It took everything in me not to put her in her place. Why do you let her talk to you like that?” The vein in his neck pulses, showing the restraint he’s using to hold back his temper. I’m not sure why Grace’s attack angers him, but I force myself to look away not wanting to examine those thoughts anymore.

  A sigh brushes out past my lips, exhausted from the day already. “Alex,
there are so many things you don’t understand. If I let her have it, Cal would be furious with me. That’s his mother and I have to respect that.” Looking up into his eyes, I can tell he’s trying to decide if he believes what I’m telling him or not. I pray I’m convincing enough that he drops the issue and leaves me be.

  After a few minutes, he says, “I know there’s more to you, Elizabeth. I can tell there’s someone hidden inside you dying to come out. I can see it in the fake smile you show everyone, including Cal, the way you frown when you’re alone in your thoughts, and the sadness that’s lurking in your eyes. Why are you hiding?”

  God help me, but there’s something in the way he speaks to me that makes me want to lay all my secrets and sins bare. He’s soft and gentle, but most importantly, I believe he wants to know more about me. He’s not asking to gain leverage or use it to his advantage, he’s genuinely concerned. And it makes me want to tell him everything. But the rational side of my brain tells me not to, so I reel in this strange impulse to divulge my secrets to a man I hardly know.“It’s really complicated, Alex. Please, you should go.” I plead with my eyes hoping that he’ll drop it and let me gather myself in private.

  “Forget complicated. If you’re scared to tell me, fine. But don’t feed me the same lines you feed everyone else. I see through your little act, sweetheart.” The gentle tone he was using moments ago is now replaced with a firm, demanding one. It shocks me and surprisingly turns me on. What the hell? But in the next instant I’m a little pissed.

  “My act, huh? You want me to cut the bullshit?” I ask and he nods in reply, his brows furrowed in irritation. “Am I okay with what she just said to me down there? No, I’m completely embarrassed and hate that you heard her cut me down like that. Do I like my mother-in-law? Hell no. I’ve disliked that woman since the day I met her eight years ago. Unfortunately, the feeling is reciprocated, which you got to witness. Will I say something to her to defend myself? No. I’m married to her son and don’t want to cause tension between us. I hardly see her and I can suck it up for the few hours every six months I’m forced to be within that wench’s talons.” I’m breathing heavy after my rant, but I feel so much better. It’s like a load has been lifted off of my shoulders from venting just that little bit of information. I visibly relax and Alex must pick up on it too.

  “See, don’t you feel much better now that you got that out of your system?” The grin on his face isn’t entirely smug, but it definitely holds an air of ‘I told you so’ to it.

  “Yes,” I concede. “Thank you.” I offer him a small smile to let him know that I’m genuine in my gratitude.

  “Anytime.” He winks and stands up from the ledge of the tub as I melt into a pile of goo. How can a man make something as simple as a wink so damn sexy? He holds his hand out to me and I take it before he helps pull me out of the tub. As I’m stepping over the ledge, my heel gets caught on the lip and I stubble right in to him, letting out a small yelp.

  “You’re making a habit of running into me lately. If you want me to hold you, just say so,” he jokes. A playful grin stretches across his face.

  “Well, when you’re so good at catching me, how can I resist?” I quip back, but then I immediately chastise myself. What the hell was that? Am I flirting with Alex? Removing myself from his arms, I attempt to put some distance between us, but with the backs of my legs against the tub, there’s not much room for me to move.

  We’re both caught up in each other, not saying a word, just taking each other in. It’s both awkward and comforting in this strange way. He has the kindest blue eyes that constantly pull me in. Eyes that make you want to trust him. Eyes that let you see into his soul and tell you that he’s a good person deep down. A person you can depend on and trust with your life. A person that is the total opposite of someone I know well.

  Cal.

  Cal’s eyes are always calculating, looking to take the advantage in everything he does. You can peer into them and tell there is something seedy about him. He’s not a person you can trust or depend on if it doesn’t line up with his needs and goals. Everything he does has strings attached and comes with an agenda. And lucky me, I’m married to him.

  MOVE.

  This is dangerous.

  That’s what keeps running through my mind over and over as I’m stuck in this place with Alex. Unfortunately, my brain signals aren’t reaching my legs and I stay rooted to my spot, staring into caring eyes that are begging me to open up. I’m the first to look away.

  “I think I better get back downstairs. I’m sure Aaron is here and he’s always on a tight schedule.” My voice comes out in a whisper while my eyes stay trained on the floor. I know if I look up, I’m a goner and I won’t move from this spot.

  “Yeah, sorry.” He clears his throat, catching my attention. He reaches up and rubs his jawline, right over the scar that runs the length of it. “I’m going to step outside to make a phone call. Come get me if you need anything, okay?” I nod and he spins around and leaves.

  I take in a deep breath. The first full breath I’ve taken since I fell out of the tub, which feels like hours. My mind can’t make sense of this foreign feeling I’m having for a person of the opposite sex. It’s not just his sex appeal that gets to me. It’s the way he says my name, the way he watches me, the concern he shows for me, the way he seems to care. I’ve never had any of these things in the men I’ve dated, and especially not from the man I married. Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath before opening them and making my way back downstairs.

  The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Grace behaved herself in front of Aaron as he went on and on about proper etiquette on the campaign trail. I suspect most of this was meant for me as I’ll be accompanying him, but he did tell Grace some of the do’s and don’ts for interviews. Basically no naked baby pictures, no wild teenage stories, or anything else that would undermine his campaign.

  As I expected, Grace left as soon as Aaron was gone. She didn’t so much as mutter a good-bye either. Just marched her prissy ass out the front door and slammed it shut. Good riddance is all I could think. Hopefully it’ll be another six months before I’m forced into another encounter, but I know that’s unlikely given the career path Cal is on right now.

  With no one around to see me, I plop down on the couch in the most unladylike fashion. Absolute silence meets my ears and it’s a wonderful thing. With my eyes closed, I’m just getting to that sweet spot where I’m almost asleep, thinking a nap after the stressful day would be nice.

  Suddenly, I hear a low voice in my ear say, “Elizabeth,” real quickly. It scares the shit out of me. I spring up and bump my head right into a hard surface. The pain radiates throughout my skull. Putting the palm of my hand over my sore spot, I look over to see what the hell I hit my head on. That’s when I see Alex rubbing his chin, looking to be in a little discomfort as well.

  “What the hell was that? Do you normally shout into someone’s ear like a creeper when they’re sleeping?” I’m stunned by my blunt words. I never swear, not aloud anyway since I’m told that’s unbecoming behavior. But right now I can’t be bothered with being a proper lady as my heart is still pounding feverishly against my sternum.

  “I hardly shouted. I was trying to wake you up nicely, but clearly that backfired,” he says drily. He rubs his chin a few more times before his hand drops and he reaches out to me. Grabbing my chin, he angles my head to the side to examine the damage. “You’re gonna have quite the lump. Are you okay?”

  My skin is on fire from his touch and my brain is spinning its wheels trying to come up with a response. Pulling away ever so slightly so he’s not touching me, I say, “Nothing a little aspirin won’t fix. What did you need anyway?”

  “I just wanted to check on you and see what was on your agenda for the rest of the day.”

  I shrug. “I don’t have anything else planned, but being cooped up in this house with my mother-in-law for two days has me feeling a little antsy. I was hoping a quick nap might
help, but clearly that didn’t work out.” I look at him pointedly as I rub my sore spot once again.

  He tries to stifle his laugh, causing me to glare at him. His hands go up in surrender. “Again, I’m sorry. Would you like to go for a small hike to get out of the house? Seems like you could use some fresh air.” The hopeful look on his face makes me smile just the smallest bit and my heart swell. He’s so cute. But then it dawns on me what he requested and the small smile vanishes.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not much of an outdoorsy person. In fact, I don’t think I have anything ‘hiker’ appropriate.” I give him an apologetic look. I may go for the occasional run to stay slim, but I’m by no means an adventurous hiker. No way.

  He shakes his head before saying, “Nope, that’s not going to work.” Without waiting for me, he leaves and goes upstairs to my bedroom I assume. Sluggishly, I follow him up a minute later. When I enter, I see him opening and closing my drawers.

  “Hey! Get out of there! You can’t just go through my stuff like that!” Who does he think he is? Oh God, did he open up my underwear drawer? The thought alone has me blushing.

  “Here.” He holds out some yoga pants, a tank top, a hoodie, and some tennis shoes. “I’ll get changed real quick and meet you back downstairs, okay?” My mouth hangs open from his determination to get me out there. Taking the clothes from his hand, I watch as he exits the room, closing the door behind him.

  I’m not exactly sure how I feel about this whole hiking thing. If I’m honest, I’m afraid it’ll be rather awkward. He’s supposed to be my bodyguard of sorts and I know next to nothing about him personally. Will we walk in silence? Am I expected to make conversation? I’d really rather lay down on my bed and take a nap, but I know he’ll be on me in a few minutes if I don’t show up.