by Kathy Myme
Not this.
And yet I can’t look away.
“As president, I have had to do a fair share of publicity in my time,” David continues. “I’m sure that I will be judged for what I’m saying now. There will be headlines about me that aren’t flattering. Headlines that tell me I need to resign.”
Tears fall from my eyes, although I can’t work out exactly why. David...
“I’ll be honest with you, America,” he says. “I haven’t slept in days. I’ve spent the last few nights wondering what I should do. My advisors have been clear with me. According to them, I should denounce my relations with Veronica Waters and make her out to be the guilty party in all of this.”
David bangs a fist down on the desk.
“Never again,” he swears. “America, I’m used to getting what I want. But I understand there may be a cost. So… if losing my job as president is what it takes to win the woman I love, then I’m prepared to lose everything.”
“David,” I whisper, although I know he can’t hear me. I have no idea what I want to say to him right now. A part of me wants to stop him, to try to make him see what he’s giving up. But mostly I just want to jump into his arms.
“So to make things clear…” He coughs. “This whole affair has been brought on by the meddling of the media. Veronica Waters and I were never previously in a relationship. We are not engaged.”
I have no idea where this is going. David is holding a lot of cards close to his chest. How exactly is he going to spin this? It doesn’t look good for him. If anything, this is more a confession than an attempt to save his job.
“But…” The camera zooms out, away from David’s desk. “I’d like to change that.”
Slowly and carefully, the President stands up. But after getting to his feet and walking around the desk, he sinks back down again.
Except this time… he’s down on one knee.
“Veronica Waters,” he says softly. “If you’re out there somewhere, watching this… will you marry me?”
David
For what seems like the second time in a matter of months, I’ve achieved the impossible.
First, I won the election from outside the two-party system. Second, I won the woman of my dreams.
The press are having an absolute field day with the proposal. Some channels are just running it on loop, and others are reporting record levels of approval for me. Not that it really matters, but it is a nice touch.
Veronica called me, minutes after that press conference. “Yes,” she had said, her voice still echoing in my head. She was going to marry me. And then she got on the first plane she could back to DC.
I’m waiting at the airport for her, in the arrivals lounge. It feels a little silly, the way everyone is watching me, but I don’t care. I just want to be with her as soon as I can.
The Secret Service has pushed people back to give me some breathing room, but the crowd is still extremely hyped up. People are calling out to me, congratulations and thanks. One guy even shouted that he was going to propose to his girlfriend thanks to me, which I must admit is a new experience.
Then the doors open, and people start to come out. I look through the crowd, searching for her face. I wait, each minute seeming like an hour.
And then she’s there.
A huge cheer fills the airport as the crowd surrounding me spots her. I can tell she’s taken back slightly, in shock over all the attention. But then she sees me.
As we lock eyes, I feel a shiver shoot up my spine. That’s my fiancée, the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. The thought makes me practically giddy.
She rushes over. “David.”
I pull her close in my embrace. “Veronica.”
I hold her for a moment, never wanting to let her go. But I do, soon enough.
“I wanted to do this again in person, so…” I get down on one knee and reach into my pocket. I’d had time to stop by a jewelry store and pick out a ring properly this time.
“Veronica, you mean the absolute world to me and-”
“Yes,” she says, pulling me back up. “Of course I will.”
I kiss her deeply, and the sounds of the crowd cheering fade away until there is only her. My Veronica, my love.
“Let’s get you back,” I say over the noise. “You must be sick of planes after all this.”
“Not enough to miss seeing you,” she says grabbing her bag. “Lead on, Mr President.”
I grab her hand and lead her back to the car.
“You must be happy,” she says. “The polls are looking very good for you.”
“Fuck the polls,” I reply. “The only thing I care about right now is you.”
She looks at me with her two indescribably beautiful eyes and I just about melt. I must be the luckiest man in the entire world.
We get to the car, but I don’t really remember much of the walk there. It was just an endless sea of camera flashes and shouting crowds, all drowned out by her presence.
I open the limo door for her, and we climb inside. For the first time in an hour, there is silence.
“It’s time to get you back to the White House, Mrs Shepard.”
She blushes. “I’m not a Mrs yet.”
“I know, I was just trying it on,” I reply with a grin. “It fits rather nicely.”
“It does.”
“There’s something else that fits rather nicely,” I say, before whispering something in her ear.
She blushes again, an even darker shade of red this time.
“Mr President, that’s an extremely inappropriate thing to be saying to an innocent White House intern like myself,” she replies. “I ought to report you.”
I gasp in mock horror. “Miss Waters, that sounds like a very serious accusation. I think we’re going to go over exactly what I’m not supposed to do in great detail once we get back to the White House.”
“Oh, I’m not going to wait that long,” she replies, one hand sliding over the front of my pants.
I smile. “No, you certainly will not.”
Epilogue: Veronica
Six months later...
When I wake up, the bed is cold. That’s not particularly surprising. I’m used to waking up alone now.
David isn’t the type to lie around in bed in the mornings. By 6AM, he’s already usually up for his morning run. And after his shower he heads straight to his desk to sit through his morning briefings. But that isn’t what’s happening today.
I imagine he’ll have gone somewhere else. He’s a sucker for tradition at heart. He probably doesn’t want to catch a glimpse of me before I walk down the aisle.
In some ways, he’ll never change. He’s a man that likes complete control, no matter what. Being President is just another way for him to feel more in charge.
But this isn’t just an ordinary day.
Today, we’re getting married. For real.
I never thought my happily-ever-after would be with the President of the United States. But in the months since we got engaged, everything has flown by in a rush of planning and designing.
We’re lucky that David has money from his law career, even despite his father’s debts. My dad earns a good amount, but he never would have been able to afford the wedding that we have planned. The details have spiraled out of control, despite my best efforts to keep everything tightly within budget.
“It’s what the people want,” David had said, laughing as he went over our spending in bed one evening. “If the paparazzi can’t sneak over the fence and take a few snaps of my gorgeous bride, then it’ll be a sad day for America.”
In response, I’d narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t care about what people thought anymore.”
“Did I say that?” He’d pushed me down onto the mattress, the weight of his body anchoring my own. “I’ve stopped caring about what the public think. There’s one specific person that I do, in fact, value the opinion of…”
I’d played along.
“Yeah? And who’s that?”
“My future wife.” He pressed his mouth to mine. “It’s a lot of money, Veronica. But I have a sneaking suspicion that you want our wedding to be pretty spectacular.”
It’s not that I’m recklessly wanting to spend crazy amounts of money or anything. But this wedding feels like a symbol to me in a lot of ways.
It’s a celebration showing how real David and I are. How real our love is.
Every milestone we’ve gone through (our engagement dinner, for example) has been lovely, but it’s also felt… fake, in a way. Like David and I have been performing for other people. Putting on a show for them.
This is the first chance I’ve had to exercise complete control over an event. For once, it’s been up to me to decide how we celebrate our love.
So yeah, I might have gone a bit overboard. Thank god David is happy with me taking over.
We’re getting married back in Cali. It was my choice in the end, but David had suggested it.
For a while I thought we’d be tied down to a DC wedding, seeing as David has so much work to do. But he actually insisted that we find a venue elsewhere. That we take matters into our own hands.
So when I wake up, it’s in my sleepy childhood bedroom. The place where I spent so many years as a girl. It’s a weird contrast, considering today is the day I’m meant to become a woman.
“Did you sleep alright?” Dad asks anxiously when I come downstairs. “David left about an hour ago.”
“Do you know where he went?” I ask.
“He said something about going over reports before handing things over to his Vice President for your honeymoon.” Dad shrugs. “But don’t worry about that. You have more important things to take care of.” He checks his watch. “And if I’m not mistaken… more important people.”
He’s not wrong. When there’s a knock on the door that morning, I’m greeted by a familiar sight. Friends from my hometown that I haven’t seen with ages flood the room.
“Are you excited?” Lacey asks. She’s in charge of doing my hair, of course. She’s done a wonderful job. “Or are the butterflies more of the nervous kind?”
“Who wouldn’t be nervous right before she marries the President?” I ask, smiling. It still feels surreal to say, even if David and I had all that practice with being fake engaged.
“I still can’t believe it…” She sighs. “One of my oldest friends is becoming the First Lady. Like, for real.”
“Do you think it’s weird?” I ask.
“I think it’s wonderful,” she answers. “The President has never looked happier, Veronica. And neither have you.”
The morning flies by in a whirl. When my friends step away from me, I know it’s time. I’m ready.
My dress is beautiful. The heart-shaped neckline suits my body well, and the tailors have done a good job at making the fabric curve along with my body.
The coaches arrive to take us to the venue. It’s a beautiful venue, far more expensive than I ever could have afforded by myself. The journey there feels as if it’s over in an instant, but I’m glad time is moving so quickly.
Every second is bringing me closer to being David’s husband. To being his First Lady.
Of course we catch sight of paparazzi along the way. Even with Andrews gone, information and rumor still spread like wildfire sometimes, especially when things are of national interest.
And the President’s wedding? That’s a big deal.
Every trashy news station had been reporting on nothing but our upcoming nuptials for weeks now. There’s been some demand for the President to ensure the whole wedding is streamed to live TV.
Our new Press Secretary, the one David had hired to replace Andrews, actually pushed for us to do that. She showed David several polls showing the positive boosts it would have on his opinion ratings.
I’ve never been more proud than when David shut that idea down immediately. Our wedding is for us and the people we choose to share it with.
A pang of nervousness hits me when we pull up outside the venue. It’s time.
“I’m so proud of you,” my dad says when he sees me, his eyes filling with tears.
“Dad…” I say self-consciously, touching my dress. “I…”
“Go out there and get him, Veronica,” he says. “You’re going to have a wonderful life together.”
“I love you, Dad,” I say softly.
And then I walk through the venue doors.
Immediately my eyes are drawn to the only thing of importance. David waiting for me at the other end. He looks as flawlessly handsome as ever with his stuffy president gear traded in for a nice black tuxedo.
In that moment, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I’m here with my friends and family, them watching me get married to the man I love.
When David’s eyes meet mine from across the room, I know that our future together is going to be incredible.
Today my President becomes my husband. And whatever challenges face him during his time in the White House, we’re going to face them together. As husband and wife.
A message from the Author
Dear Reader,
Thank you ever so much for reading The President’s Wife. I do hope you enjoyed the tale of Veronica and David.
If you enjoyed this story I would greatly appreciate you leaving a review on Amazon, GoodReads, or any other site.
Kathy Myme