“Whatever you saw, dear, let it go. You have a job to do,” my mother-in-law whispers into my ear, jabbing the knife deeper into my heart.
I stand strong, refusing to let Eloise see me falter. She treats me as if I know nothing about what it means to be a politician’s wife, when, in fact, I know all too well what it takes to swim with the sharks. These women love to present as refined, but behind the doors of their privileged societies and clubs, it’s the gossip and scandal they love to sink their fangs into.
Luckily for me, I’ve been able to distance myself for the most part. Ladies’ luncheons are easy to get out of when you have a job, which I do. Years back, William and Eloise pushed me to quit, insisting that the public wanted to see a wife that was devoted to her husband’s career. At the time, I was able to argue that, as Republicans, we could appeal to the Democratic population if I kept my job at the university. William agreed with the logic, but it still wasn’t good enough for Eloise, who saw my job at the university as trivial. And to be honest, it is trivial. It isn’t a high-paying job, and it certainly isn’t the career I hoped to have, but at least it was mine.
This was never my dream. My dream was to open up my own private practice, to build my career from the ground up. I took the initial steps by securing a lease on an office space years back, but the endeavor had proven to be more time-consuming than I anticipated while also supporting my husband’s goals.
Tripp’s career has and will always come before anything else.
As it stands, I only have two clients, and I pay more for the rent than what they pay for sessions.
A big part of me has wanted to go back to school to get my doctorate, but the moment Tripp left his job as a state prosecutor and started his path in politics, it was no longer about us or me—it became all about him.
In turn, my life has become a joke, leaving all my goals in the dust to make sure Tripp could achieve all his.
“You’re up early,” Tripp remarks as he walks into the kitchen while I’m screwing the lid onto my coffee mug.
“The weather is supposed to turn bad later today, and I have a lot of work I need to get done so I can leave before the snow hits.”
“This winter has been brutal.”
“Which is why I need to get going.” I grab a few student files and tuck them into my bag.
“Not so fast,” he says, pulling me in by the waist. “You looked amazing last night.”
Memories of that redhead swarm, and I have to temper my fury so I don’t snap at him. I want to ask why he couldn’t have expressed this compliment to me last night and why he felt it necessary to sneak alone time with that girl instead of me.
“So, you liked the red?” I pretend to flirt. It’s pathetic, really. My having to tuck my tail between my legs for the tiny bit of hope that my husband will give me the attention I’m so desperate for.
“Loved it.”
Tripp grips my hips tighter and kisses me. I want to get lost in the kiss the way I used to, but I can’t. All I can feel is tension, all I can see is him with her. Wanting so badly to erase the images that are taunting me, I push myself into him in an attempt to spur even a shred of passion.
“Whoa, don’t get too worked up,” he lightly jokes as he pulls back. “What’d you put in your coffee?”
Sometimes he makes me feel so stupid.
My response is curt, “Nothing. Just forget it.”
“What’s wrong now?”
I gather my belongings and dodge the fight that’s brewing by avoiding the true issue at hand. “Lack of sleep. I’m just exhausted and running late.”
“Okay. Be careful driving.”
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I barely peck Tripp on the cheek. “Will I see you when I get off work?”
“I have a four o’clock meeting with Bradford.”
“In the city?”
“Yes. Dad wanted to come, so I agreed to meet them there.”
“Well, try not to stay too late. The snow is forecasted to start around four.”
With a fleeting kiss, I’m out the door and on my way to Georgetown. I’m able to suppress my irritation, but it always has a way of quietly brewing inside me. The once vibrant girl who lived on life’s euphoria is now a thirty-nine-year-old who can only find diminishing glimpses of the rapture that once was.
“Good morning, Mrs. Montgomery. I watched your husband’s speech on TV yesterday. For an old guy, he’s kinda hot,” Jenny says when I walk into the waiting room of my office.
Jenny is a freshman who answers the phones and schedules appointments through the university’s work-study program.
“Old? Really, Jenny?” I tease the perky nineteen-year-old.
“You know what I mean.”
I laugh as I pick up a stack of mail that’s on the filing cabinet. “Well, enjoy your youth before things start to droop.”
“O-M-G! That’s so gross.”
“Tell me about it.”
This time, we both laugh as I make my way into my office to check emails before my first appointment arrives.
Emma
“That’s it,” I exhaust as I toss the letter onto my bed. “That was the last one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Luca. I’m sure. I’ve applied for every loan, scholarship, and grant that I’m eligible for.” The burning heat of tears threatens. “I don’t know what else I can do. This isn’t fair.”
“Can you talk to the university again and explain the situation? Your parents died; it isn’t as if your grades fell because you were out partying.”
All it takes is the mere mention of my parents to rattle my heart.
“I’ve been on academic probation, Luca. They gave me a semester to pull my grades back up, and I blew it. They aren’t going to give me another chance. The scholarship is gone.”
“Will your boss let you switch to full time?”
A defeated laugh breaks through. “Tuition is around forty grand a semester. Even at full time, it won’t come close to what I need. Unless I start hooking in the evenings, no one is going to pay me that amount of money.”
Luca’s oblivion to the cost of Georgetown annoys me. His parents are rich, alive, and pay for everything. I, on the other hand, have worked my ass off to earn my way into this private university on a full academic scholarship. But when my parents died in a car crash just shy of a year ago, my grades slipped. Despite his ignorance, I love Luca. He’s been my closest friend since I moved to DC.
We met freshman year, both of us majoring in culture and politics. Luca is assuredly attractive with his dirty blond hair, tall stature, and bone structure fit for the runway. He’s also a tomcat, which killed the hope I once had that he could be someone who could commit. The fact that we’ve never crossed that line made it possible for us to connect and build a solid friendship. Luca has always trusted me enough to be unguarded and transparent. I used to give him the same in return, but after my parents died, all that changed.
He takes my hand in his. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can stay with me if you need a place to live.”