In light of Ellis’ mounting legal battles as more indictments are handed down against his family business, Stella’s also been increasingly scarce in the public light. Normally, that might make me want to reach out and extend a little brotherly concern her way.
But I have a country and a campaign to run. Besides, I don’t want Stella mistaking my natural instinct to make sure she’s okay as a weakness she can capitalize on and try to climb me to escape Ellis’ sinking ship.
The woman is old enough—and independently wealthy enough—to swim on her own or buy herself a damned life raft.
Honestly? I’m shocked she hasn’t left his ass yet. I genuinely thought once he lost his primary that she’d be filing divorce papers soon after. If it wasn’t for my campaign taking up what little free time I have I might spend some mental energy wondering if Ellis has something deep and dark he’s holding over her head to keep her married to him.
Not my problem. She’s a grown-ass adult. I’ve touched that stove too many times to risk getting burned yet again.
See? Personal growth. In that way, at least.
With Mom and Dad spending every major holiday with me at the White House, we’ve built a new family routine without Stella and Ellis spoiling it for us. As my campaign chugs along and I head to the Oval every day to do the work of running this country, a lot of noise fades to the background.
Mental and emotional noise. Useless static that doesn’t serve me. I’m getting better about not doing that.
Mostly. Though it’s still impossible to not look back on the mistakes I made to get here when I’m pulling on Duck every morning.
Why did I put myself through all of this, again?
Oh, yeah.
I wanted to earn my father’s respect…yadda-yadda. I still haven’t heard those exact words from him.
Maybe I never will.
I’m learning to become okay with that because, being honest with myself, I ran for this second term forme.
Because despite my personal misgivings,Iwanted to. I wanted to see if I could be a two-term POTUS.
Besides, I still have items on my legislative agenda I want to accomplish. That’s a lot easier to do when you’re a lame-duck president who doesn’t give a damn anymore about playing nice with Congress. Especially if your party comfortably controls both houses of Congress the way we currently do.
I could be counting down the days until January 20th. Counting down the time until I can spend my days naked and collared and on my knees whenever Leo or Jordan demand it of me.
I could be…free.
Instead, I’m staring down the barrel of spending four more years living under a microscope. At least this is the last election I’ll ever endure as a candidate. The pinnacle.
While Ellis isn’t in jail—unfortunately—the way his legal battle drags on means once his term ends and he leaves office maybe my sister will finally come to her senses and divorce him before he’s actually incarcerated.
Not that I’m spending too much time hoping it happens because it still won’t change who she is or turn her into the sister I wish I had.
Maybe that’s why it shocks me so much when Stella’s office reaches out to Casey-Marie the week before Halloween, less than two weeks before Election Day, and asks if Stella can be added to the guest list for my official Election Day watch party.
In fact, Casey-Marie drops that info on me while Ciro and I are sitting in my private study just off the Oval Office, where we’re discussing a few last-minute campaign stop changes with my campaign manager and Jordan.
Ciro shakes his head. “Wow. Does this mean divorce proceedings are in your sister’s immediate future?” he snarks.
Stella’s not his favorite person and not only because of my bullshit with her. I just found out last week that Ciro’s wife, Ilyana, had a run-in with Stella during my first campaign, where Stella tried to insinuate herself into Ilyana’s inner circle.
I never would have learned about it if Jordan hadn’t picked up the tidbit somewhere—probably via Leo—and then passed it along to me. I still haven’t confronted Ciro about it yet.
Sitting back, I ponder Stella’s ask. “Just her and not Ellis?” I ask Casey-Marie.
She wears a smirk as she slowly nods. “Just her. They went out of their way to say it was only for her and not Ellis, no plus-one friends, either.”
“Huh.” I focus on Ciro. “What do you think?”
“President Woodley—”
