“No, you’re the wife of a prominent senator and the next president of the United States. We can’t risk anyone seeing you look like that. Even with the best excuse, no one would believe it. Speculations would turn into digging, and digging would turn into this huge scandal that we can’t afford.” I’m floored. Never in his explanation was there concern for me.
“Are you listening to yourself? Look at me! Do you think this is right? And you have the nerve to stand there and preach to me about how important it is that people don’t see my fucked-up face?”
“Look, I don’t get paid to make judgments on what is right or wrong. I’m paid to win Cal elections. And keeping you out of sight will make sure he wins this election. People cannot see you like this.”
“You might want to give this same spiel to Cal seeing it’s his actions that are going to lose him the election. It’s not like I punched myself in the face.”
“We’re canceling the appearance you have tomorrow.” He pulls out his phone and starts tapping it rapidly.
“What appearance?” I was never told about an appearance.
“It was a last-minute engagement where you would talk about your upbringing and Cal’s compassion toward you and your family.” Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot they were using my life story as a campaign tool.
“Why don’t we change the topic then? I could always give a speech about domestic violence,” I deadpan.
“Now’s not the time to be joking, Elizabeth,” he chastises.
My whole life is a big joke is what I want to say, but don’t. “Is he coming home tonight?”
“No, he’s letting things cool off before coming back, give it a couple days.”
Cool off? He thinks I’m going to forget this? “I think it’s time you leave, Aaron. I won’t go out so you and Cal can rest easy.” He gives me a curt nod and starts to leave, but I stop him. “Wait, did he report Alex for . . . interfering?”
Aaron glances behind him to Alex before looking at me. “No, I advised him not to. There’s nothing worse than a disgruntled former employee to fuck up a campaign. There’d be nothing stopping him from going public with what he witnessed, not to mention a slew of other issues.” Turning his attention back to Alex, he says, “I trust you’ll show discretion in regards to Mr. and Mrs. Fitgerald’s private matters, right?” Alex’s jaw ticks before he nods, giving Aaron a glacial look. “Good, I’ll be on my way then.”
After Aaron leaves, I flop back down on the bed. My headache is feeling better, but there’s still a dull throb pounding against my skull. “You are surrounded by scum,” Alex says, disgust punctuating each word.
“I know,” I groan. “I really don’t want to stay here feeling sorry for myself all day.”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll run you a nice warm bath. You go soak and relax for a bit and when you get out we can veg out and watch TV all day. Deal?”
“Deal.” When I walk into the bathroom, I’m stunned by the display before me. Small votive candles are lit around the tub and on the counters. The smell of lavender hits me and I realize he’s used my favorite bubbles too.
“Do you like it?” Alex says into my ear from behind me.
“I love it. This is so thoughtful. How’d you find all this stuff?”
“It was all under the sink, so I didn’t exactly have to tear the house apart to find it.”
“Thank you.” I turn around and throw my arms around his neck, holding on to him as tight as possible. These last twenty-four hours he’s been my rock, and I can’t thank him enough for all of his support and comfort.
“Go on, before it gets cold.” I turn around but jump slightly when he lands a small tap to my butt.
“Excuse you, Mr. Matthews,” I say playfully over my shoulder. I’m rewarded with a heart-stopping smile. He leaves, shutting the door behind him. My clothes are thrown in a pile in the corner before I slowly step into the hot bath and ease down. Once I’m laid back, I take a deep, cleansing breath. Lavender floats all around me, the bath soap softens my skin, and the hot water relaxes my muscles. This is heavenly.
I take this moment to shut my brain off. I’ve been thinking, debating, and fighting myself on everything lately. As much as my body hurts, my mind is far more tattered. I just need a mental break, so that’s what I do for the next forty-five minutes. I soak in the bath and don’t think about anything. Cal, my mother’s illness, my misery, my growing feelings for Alex, none of it exists right now. Once my body is good and pruny and the water is starting to get cold, I get out of the tub and throw on my robe.
Entering the bedroom, I see Alex sitting on the bed, but he’s not in his usual attire of a suit and tie. He has on sweats and a long sleeved T-shirt that’s pushed up to his elbows. The sight of him looking so casual does strange things to me. It’s a welcomed image and one that feels so normal between us. I’ve only seen him like this twice before, but each time is like a sucker punch to the gut. There’s just something seriously sexy about it. Of course, he’s seen me in a lot less, but I’m not going there right now.
“Do you feel better?” he asks when he notices my presence.
“Much better. I needed that, so thank you.”
“Ah, it was nothing really. Come sit and join me for the gourmet meal I’ve prepared for us.” He waves his hands out at whatever he has spread across the bed. When I get to the edge of the bed, I laugh at his gourmet meal. Set out on plates are a variety of cheese and crackers.
“Gourmet, huh?” I joke with him.
“Well, I can’t be good at everything.” He looks around the room as if someone might be listening. “Cooking is one of my weaknesses. But don’t tell anyone,” he whispers. A laugh bubbles out from my lips. It’s the first real laugh since Cal hit me, and there’s something cathartic about it. Like yesterday has been cleansed from my body.
“Don’t worry, Matthews, your secret is safe with me.” I slide into bed and snuggle down under the covers.
“Good. Now, I’ve picked out a few movies from Netflix’s selection to choose from. We have Wedding Crashers, The Hangover, Ted, and 21 Jump Street.”
“In the mood for a comedy?”
He shrugs. “I just thought you could use a good laugh.” My heart melts at the thoughtful gesture.
“21 Jump Street.”
We watch that and then he picks The Hangover next. The only time we get up is to use the bathroom or restock our plate. “Okay, I’m a little movie-d out,” I say once the credits start rolling.
“Me too. How about we turn on some mindless TV?”
“Well, I don’t want to kill any more of your brain cells with my horrible shows, so you can pick.”
He throws his head back and looks at the ceiling. “Thank you, God.”
I playfully push him. “Oh, hush. Now pick before I steal the remote and change my mind.”
“Steal the remote? Those are fightin’ words right there.” I giggle at his silliness, which is a nice turn of events. I’m always so at ease with Alex. We haven’t known each other long, but I feel more comfortable around him than any one else in my life. He clicks through the channels while I stare at his profile, amazed that this wonderful person was brought into my life. “Is this okay?” he asks once he stops on a channel. I look at the television and see Jeopardy is on.
“Sure.” At this point, I don’t care what we watch.
I’ll take “Doo” or “Di” for $400.
Clue: A professional who gives tips on healthful eating.
“Dietitian,” I say.
Dietitian.
Correct.
“Doo” or “Di” for $800.
Clue: Pertaining to or resembling the devil.
“Diabolical.”
Jacob.
Diabolical.
Yes, select again.
Let’s do it for $1200.
Clue there is A song by the De Villes helped give this style of vocal music its name.
“Doo-wop,” I answer again. Man, I’m kind of on a ro
ll here.
Jacob.
Doo-wop.
That is correct.
Let’s do $1600.
Shakespeare in “Julius Caesar” “Run, as it were” this time for the end of the world.
“Doomsday.”
Doomsday.
Correct again, Jacob.
$2000, please.
“Damn, sweetheart. How do you know all that stuff?” My attention snaps to Alex whose mouth is hanging open in astonishment. I shrug, suddenly a little shy.
“I don’t know, I just know a lot of useless knowledge I suppose.”
“Don’t get all shy on me now. That was pretty impressive.” His smile tells me he’s being serious and not condescending. It’s so different from the way Cal treats me, never acknowledging even the simplest of accomplishments. The fact that Alex finds me impressive has my mind spinning. I’ve been called many things in my life, and impressive has never been one of them.
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I say, “Thanks. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You know that I have an endless array of useless knowledge stuck in my brain that will come in handy at no point in my life, so tell me something about you.”
He rubs the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the attention being directed to him. “There’s really not much to tell. I’ve had a pretty boring life.”
I scoff. “I’m sure it’s been completely uneventful,” I say sarcastically. “What made you join the military?” If he won’t tell me something, then I’ll just start asking questions.
“Nine-eleven. I wanted to make those bastards pay and ensure an attack like that never happened on U.S. soil again.” The conviction in his voice has me hanging on each word. There’s a sense of pride I feel coming from him as he speaks about his service. A troubled look crosses his features whenever we’ve briefly mentioned it, so I know it’s not all good memories and probably why he doesn’t talk about it often.
“You always seem reluctant to talk about your time in the Army. Do you not like talking about it?”
He shrugs and shifts a little on the bed. “I’ve had some good times in the military and have met a lot of awesome people, but sometimes the bad shit outweighs all of that. Some of it is still pretty fresh and I don’t like remembering it.”
Pain.
The emotion runs across his face so quickly I almost miss it. He reaches up and rubs the scar that runs along his jaw. I’m wondering if he’s thinking about whatever happened that put that there.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was bringing all that up for you.”
His eyes set on mine. “There’s no reason for you to apologize. It’s not your fault and you didn’t know.” He gives me a small smile to help ease my worry. “Do you want to see what the final Jeopardy question is?” It’s not lost on me that he’s attempting to change the subject. Like he did for me last time, I let him off the hook. We’ve talked about enough heavy stuff for one day.
“Sure.”
IT’S BEEN A month since Cal hit me. He stayed away for a week, returning when the bruises had faded. As much as I didn’t want to see him, I wanted him to see the damage he had done to my face. I doubt he would’ve cared though. We hardly talk when he’s home, which suits me fine. I feel nauseous whenever I’m forced to look at him, so the less interaction I have with him the better. I kept to my word and didn’t leave the house until my cheek had completely healed, but once it did we were out on the campaign trail again. All of my interviews were canceled by Aaron. I guess he couldn’t trust me not to fly off on a tangent and damage Cal’s image. Otherwise, I do as I’m told. I smile, wave, clap, and repeat.
Things between Alex and I have stayed platonic for the most part. We haven’t kissed or done anything else inappropriate. He’s become my closest friend, a person I can confide in without worry of judgment. Knowing he’s here with me makes each day a little easier.
“What do you want for Christmas?” I ask Alex randomly. Christmas is only a week away and I’d like to get him something nice. We’re home while Congress adjourns for the remainder of the year. The day after Christmas we’ll be back on the road with extra force since the primary elections will start in January for a couple of states.
Alex looks over at me from his seat in the adjacent chair in the living room. “You don’t have to get me anything, Elizabeth.”
“I know I don’t have to, I want to. So tell me, if there was one thing you could have, what would it be?” I’m watching him expectantly, waiting for his answer. His eyes cloud over and he almost looks sad.
“There’s only one thing I want, and I can’t have it, so you don’t need to waste your time shopping for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You, Elizabeth.” He looks away seeming shocked by his admission. He sounds choked up and his words rip my heart out.
“I’m sorry I’m hurting you,” I whisper. I’m hurting too. Even though we haven’t crossed the line in a while, my body still yearns for his touch, still aches to have him kiss and caress me. I feel like I’m slowly dying inside denying myself the love and happiness I could be getting from Alex.
His head snaps up to mine. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for something you have no control over. Does it suck to be near you and not able to show you how much I care about you? Yes, but I respect your reason for staying with Cal. I would never pressure you into making that decision. So if all I can have of you is your friendship, your smile, and your words, then that’s what I’ll take. But you asked what I wanted, and it’s you.”
A single tear streams down my face. Here we are, both wanting the same thing, but sacrificing it for someone else. The fact that he’s so accepting of it for the sake of my mother has me beyond emotional. He leans over and brushes the tear away with his thumb, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. I tilt my face into his touch, savoring the contact from him.
He sits back in his chair and says, “So, how’s your mom? I never hear you talking to her.”
“She’s doing okay. The infusions make her tired, but she’s pretty good. I only call her once a week.” Guilt floods my system as I think about the reason I don’t talk to her more.
“What’s wrong? You look sad all of a sudden.”
I hesitate if I should tell him or not. Letting out a long sigh, I say, “It’s just too hard sometimes. I know this is going to make me sound like a horrible, selfish person—hell, maybe I am—but there’s this pang of resentment when I talk to her. She always thought it was important that I marry for money, but what I’ve never told her is the only reason I married Cal was because of her illness. To help take care of her. Otherwise, I really don’t think I would’ve stayed with him. Sometimes I feel like if she wasn’t diagnosed with MS, I wouldn’t be so miserable.” I say the last part in a whisper, partially ashamed of what I’ve just admitted. My mother has an incurable, debilitating disease, and here I am feeling sorry for myself.
Alex stands up and sits down next to me on the couch before draping his arm over my shoulders and pulling me to him. I nuzzle into his chest, taking in his fresh, clean scent and the warmth his embrace provides. “You need to listen to me,” he says against my head. “There is not a selfish bone in your body. What would your mother say if she knew you were this unhappy only for her sake?”
“That’s the thing, I’ve tried telling her before and she doesn’t want to hear it. She tries to convince me otherwise so I never bring it up because it’s pointless.”
“Have you ever talked to her and had her really listen to you?” I think about this for a second. Whenever she starts making excuses for my feelings, I usually give up and agree with her.
“No, I never push the issue, but I don’t think I ever will. Stress isn’t something people with multiple sclerosis handle well, and I won’t put that kind of burden on her.”
“See? Tell me how that makes you selfish. It’s okay to feel angry about the situation. It sucks
that your mom has this disease and it’s not fair to her, to your dad, or to you. I was thinking, have you guys ever looked into getting her some kind of federal assistance to help, or enroll in the new healthcare plan that was passed?”
“According to the federal aid programs, my parents make too much money to qualify. Can you believe that?” I ask with a humorless laugh. “The pharmaceutical companies will work with you on the medication and provide a discount, but they only take about seven hundred dollars a month off. That seems like a lot, but when you’re spending close to six thousand dollars a month, it’s just a drop in the bucket. I looked into the new healthcare program recently, but their deductibles would be astronomical and still unaffordable for them. And it would only cover a fraction of the cost for the infusion. I’ve looked at every possible alternative solution. There just isn’t one.”
He squeezes me tighter and kisses me on the head. “I have a feeling everything is going to work out. You just have to stay strong, okay?” I simply nod.
We sit in silence wrapped up in each other while the radio we had turned on earlier plays softly in the background. I’ve been playing Christmas music nonstop this week. I can’t help it, it’s my favorite time of year. When the next song comes on, I perk up. “Oh! I love this song!” It’s Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas.
Alex chuckles and he releases his hold on me. “You would like this song,” he mumbles.
“I heard that.” I put my hands on my hips and scowl at him, which only causes him to smile at me.
“You’re so cute.” Standing up, he holds his hand out and says, “May I have this dance?”
Slowly placing my hand in his, I stand up. “You know how to dance?” I ask surprised.
“Don’t ever underestimate me, sweetheart.” He leads me to an open area in the living room and whisks me away. We spin and twirl, laugh and sing as this song bleeds into the next. On the fifth or sixth song, he ends it by dipping me back. My head tilts back as I laugh at the sudden movement. When he doesn’t move to pull me back up, I lift my head and see him staring intently at me. He’s looking down on me with longing and I’ve become aware that every inch of my body is pressed firmly against his. The laughter dies on my lips as I take in the seriousness of our situation while one undeniable feeling grows between us.
Hidden in Lies Page 16