“Well, well, well. Not going to lie, he got hotter with age. Look at that ass,” Aubrey chuckles with a wink, then wanders over to one of the ellipticals.
Most of the machines are occupied, but there’s a free one beside Isaac. I should steer clear or leave altogether. I do neither, andhe does a double-take as I put in my earbuds and press start on the treadmill. I’ve never been a runner, so I slowly build the speed up to a brisk walking pace. He slows down until he’s walking at the same speed as me.
“Good morning,” he greets, and despite the formality, there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone.
The memory of waking up in his arms flashes before me. I’d give anything to rewind the past few hours to when the world around us didn’t exist. I clear my throat, brushing away the thought. “Morning. Did you… sleep well?”
“I did, actually. Best sleep I’ve had in years. You?”
I can’t help my smile, but try my best to keep it contained. “Same.”
“Well, I need to get ready.” Isaac presses the stop button, and disappointment settles in my gut. I hate how we have to pretend last night never happened, even if it’s what I suggested in the first place. “Have a great workout. I’ll see you later, Governor.”
He leaves, and my heart cracks. I knew it would be hard reconnecting after all these years with not being able to be together. How the hell am I going to survive a week with him where we have to pretend we’re just friends? Fucking acquaintances? This is bullshit.
As I’m about to start my audiobook, Aubrey takes the treadmill beside me. “See, that wasn’t so hard,” she muses, starting the machine at the same pace as mine.
“Actually… it was,” I admit. Desperately needing to not dwell on my shitty situation, I change the subject. “How was last night?”
“It was surprisingly fun, but I think I’m done with random hook-ups for now.” I’m about to ask why when she answers without prompting, “I don’t have the patience to teach a man how to make me come. My vibrator can get it done in under three minutes; there’s no reason it should take him an hour unless we’re having a bit of edging fun.”
I choke on my own air, recalling how Isaac was entirely too entertained by denying me a few orgasms.
“So, I was thinking,” Aubrey continues, “once we’re back home, I’m going to look into IVF and adoption.”
It takes me a moment to process what she said. In all the years I’ve known her, she’s never expressed an interest in starting a family. “Are you serious? Was the sex really that bad?”
“No, but we’re not getting any younger, and I don’t want to be in my mid-sixties when my kids go off to college. I have the money to do it on my own. Nanny, housekeeper, personal chef… Hell, I could even hire someone to homeschool them if I needed.”
“Youareserious about this.” Already feeling a little winded, I slow my pace, and she does the same. “How long have you been thinking about it?”
“A few months. I’ve always wanted kids but figured I’d have to wait until after the election before even considering it. Now that it’s over, I’m not going to wait to get married; I don’t need a man.”
“Well, you’re one of the most independent women I know. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“I haven’t done much research,” she admits carefully. “All I know is it can take a while, so I’m going to talk to a few doctors and start the process when we’re back home.”
We continue our workout, but the conversation has my own biological clock ticking. I spent my married years as a doting WAG while married to Phil, volunteering, and then lobbying. I never considered I was also putting a life with kids on hold. If Isaac and I can’t be together for five, maybe even ten years, would I really want to start a family in my mid-forties? Would he?
Brushing away the heavy thought, I play my audiobook, and once we’ve done thirty minutes on the treadmill, I check my phone for messages, unable to wipe the stupid smile off my face at seeing his name, even if it’s the fake one.
Ian
Already miss you, babygirl.
I’m tempted to switch his name in my phone to Daddy, but it would be incredibly careless. Still, I change it back to Isaac and leave off the last name. The only one who would risk seeing it is my social media manager, and I’ve been careful to delete all messages from him after each conversation. I’ve also turned off notifications to ensure if he texts it won’t appear unless I click in my messaging app.
Miss you too.
My entire body buzzes in anticipation of seeing him later. We won’t have more than an occasional friendly greeting in public, and I’d give anything to have him wrap his arms around me for more than a polite hug.
None of this is fair.
Aubrey and I get ready for the ceremony, and she’s arranged for a makeup artist and hairstylist to come to our room. While they’re curling my hair, I catch up on emails and check in with my team back in California. Aubrey’s fielding calls, only pausing to apply lipstick. She’s been through so much since we first met in college, and I'll forever be grateful for all that she’s done for me over the years. Being my campaign manager was supposed to be a Band-Aid to help distract her from the pain of her divorce. If she wants to be a mom, she’ll need time off for appointments, as well as proper maternity leave. When we’re back home, I’ll need to start the hunt for a replacement to cover for her.
Once we’re ready, Westley escorts us to the inauguration. With so many world leaders in attendance, my personal security is a little overkill, so he checks in with the main security to offer his assistance while Aubrey and I find our seats. We’re in the second row behind past Presidents and their spouses. All of this feels surreal. My presence is purely a political move by President Taylor, but it doesn’t detract from the gravity of today. She accomplished the dream we all had as little girls—a woman in the White House. Not only did she achieve the impossible by running with another woman as her VP, they won a second term. I have no desire to be President, but appreciate how monumental this is for the next generation of women in politics.
After nearly fifteen minutes of shaking hands with some of the most important people in American history, my social battery is already drained. I’ve always been in awe of Aubrey’s ability to continue without skipping a beat; I’m more comfortable in intimate settings, where she shines in the political arena. Today is no different, and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. She senses my unease as I check behind us, finding Isaac’s empty chair.
