Chapter 10: The End of Us?

If Caleb hadn’t become president, maybe we would have continued like that for a long time.

Maybe we would’ve gotten a little place out in Arlington, argued over paint swatches, and pretended politics didn’t touch us.

But in just a few months, the whole country was upended.

Scandal after scandal broke, the kind of news cycle that devoured even the most powerful. I watched it unfold on C-SPAN and Twitter, stunned by how quickly everything changed.

The vice president was indicted, the Speaker of the House resigned in scandal, the popular senator had a tragic accident.

It was like dominoes falling, each headline more shocking than the last.

While two sides fought, a third reaped the reward.

Political operatives whispered in back rooms, the old rules no longer applied.

Several contenders for the White House were ruined or disgraced.

The gossip rags had a field day, but inside the Beltway, the air was thick with fear.

No one expected that, after all the twists and turns, Caleb Ford would become president.

Even I hadn’t seen it coming—not really.

Some people said it was all Caleb’s scheme.

The conspiracy theories ran wild on Reddit and cable news. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure Caleb was that ruthless.

The truth, no one knew.

Not even those closest to him. Not even me.

When Caleb first took office, he was so busy he barely slept, yet insisted on keeping me by his side.

Every night, when the news cameras were gone, he’d reach for me in the dark, holding on like I was the only solid thing left.

I had no official status with him, but Caleb let me eat and sleep with him, even holding me tightly from behind as we slept.

We shared late-night takeout, watched reruns of Friends or The West Wing, pretending none of it was about us.

As if guarding a pet that might run away at any moment.

His grip was possessive, almost desperate. I never let him see how much I needed it too.

At that time, I was already thinking of leaving.

The walls of the White House were closing in, the future too bright and too terrifying. I wrote my resignation on the back of a napkin, but I couldn’t make myself hand it over.

I gently told him I wanted to go north alone.

His silence was so heavy, I wondered if I’d ever hear his voice—his real voice—again.