Hidden in Lies

by Rachael Duncan

  He snorts in return, stifling a full on laugh. “Yeah, right. You guys couldn’t be more different if you tried. I’m telling ya, at one point I was wishing I was back in Afghanistan instead of standing next to that table listening to her.” My mouth and eyes widen in surprise, mildly shocked that he’d say something like that. He glances away from the road to look at me and I catch a glimpse of the half smile he’s trying to hide.

  Sighing, I lay back against the headrest of the seat. “She’s not that bad once you get to know her,” I say in an exasperated tone. I’m lying because she is just as bad, if not worse, once you get to know her. I’ve just learned to filter out about half of what she says.

  “Oh, come on! Admit it, you don’t like her.” My eyes narrow into slits when I turn my head in his direction. He’s goading me and I don’t appreciate it. I cross my arms over my chest and ignore him. “You can tell me the truth, you know? I’m not going to judge you because you don’t like a materialistic, self-centered, egotistical snob.” He says the last part with a bit of sarcasm, looking over at me waiting for my answer. There’s something that passes briefly in his eyes and it makes me wonder if this is something he wants to hear for more than one reason. Maybe he wants to see the best in me and believe that I couldn’t possibly be anything like women like that despite my efforts to appear that I am.

  “No,” I say quietly. “I don’t like her.” I’m not sure why, but I feel like one brick has been lifted from my shoulders, lightening the burden I’ve been carrying for so long now. A sense of relief passes through me briefly at the admission.

  “See, don’t you feel better now?” When I look over at him, the smug look I hate is stretched across his perfect face. It infuriates me.

  “Do you have to be so smug and cocky all the time? You don’t have to always rub it in when you’re right.” I look out my side window, watching the trees pass by until his next comment makes my breath hitch.

  “Oh, I can be a lot cockier if given the chance, sweetheart,” he says in a low, sexy tone. I swallow hard, trying to erase the vision that sentence just put in my head. I decide it’s best if I don’t respond to that statement. My brain is already all over the place when it comes to Alex and I don’t need to fog it up anymore by analyzing what he just said.

  The first thing I do when we get home is change into some comfortable clothes. I’m tired of being in heels and stuffy, pretentious clothing. Once I’m changed, I go back downstairs to get a glass of water. As I’m about to enter the kitchen, the sight in front of me stops me in my tracks.

  Alex’s back is to me. He has divested himself of his suit jacket and is wearing slacks that hug his rear in all the right ways with a dress shirt that is stretched across his broad back. White knuckled hands firmly grip the edge of the island, his weight bearing down on his arms with his head hung low. He looks tortured, and I’m not sure why. The need to comfort him is so strong that I find my feet carrying me in his direction on their own accord.

  “Alex?” I say gently as to not startle him. He turns to face me and all I see is this defeated look on his face. “Are you alright?” I walk closer to him and place my hand on his forearm as a gesture of comfort.

  “Look, I’m really sorry for my comment in the car; it was inappropriate. I know we’ve gotten to know each other a bit recently, but I didn’t mean to cross the line, so I’m sorry.” This is probably the first sincere apology I’ve ever gotten in my adult life. Regret flashes in his eyes as he waits for my forgiveness.

  “It’s fine, Alex. Really. If anything, it’s refreshing to have someone joke around and not treat me like a child.”

  “You just got real quiet so I was worried I offended you.” He glances down at my hand, which is still placed on his arm. I withdraw, breaking the physical connection.

  “No, I just didn’t want to emasculate you, so I decided to keep silent,” I tease.

  “Emasculate? How?” His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

  “Well, you said, ‘Oh, I can be a lot cockier if given the chance, sweetheart,’” I try to imitate his voice, causing him to crack a tiny smile. “I was going to say, ‘Don’t worry. You won’t be getting any chances here, so I’m not worried about seeing your cock . . . ier side.’” Truth be told, I had absolutely no comeback to his comment in the car, but I don’t want him worrying about offending me anymore. Plus, talking like this makes me feel rebellious. I’d never dream of speaking so crudely in front of Cal. He’d have a stroke for sure.

  A slow, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face, and the look from before is replaced by what I can only describe as a predatory stare. “Is that so?” he asks, taking unhurried steps toward me. Each one causing me to take a step back in return. I’m speechless, the bravado I was feeling seconds ago has suddenly vanished. I keep backing up until my back hits the wall and I have nowhere else to go. Alex cages me in with his arms placed on the wall on either side of my head. He leans in until our noses are almost touching, his breath hitting my lips. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says mockingly, no doubt in response to when I was imitating him, “Trust me, you’re not quite ready to see that side of me.” His voice drops an octave, causing my thighs to clench together tightly while moisture pools in my panties. Neither one of us moves, the only sound is of our breaths picking up as we glance from each other’s eyes, down to our lips. My tongue instinctively darts out to wet them and that seems to snap Alex out of whatever trance he was in.

  Stepping away quickly, he says, “I’m going to do a perimeter check before locking up, okay?” I simply nod, still plastered to the wall, unable to form words right now.

  Never has a man made me weak in the knees with just words. The confident, unwavering look in his eyes as he stalked me, the way his thick, muscular arms surrounded me, and the sound of his deep, sexy voice all reduced me to nothing more than a puddle in my panties.

  Dear God, I’m in trouble.

  What I wouldn’t give to have just one night with Alex to get him out of my system. I’ll bet he can satisfy a woman in every way imaginable. At that thought, I’m immediately consumed with guilt for having such impure thoughts. I might not be happy in my marriage, but I am still married. Plus, if Cal ever found out I had cheated, I would lose everything. That’s the way the prenuptial agreement was drafted. If I commit adultery, I forfeit my right to anything and everything that we owned together.

  I know I could make it on my own. I have a four-year college degree I can always fall back on. I’m not worried about me should something happen to my marriage. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one I have to think about in this equation. And I know without a doubt, that I wouldn’t be able to take care of all the responsibilities I have on my own. I need Cal’s help with this or one of the people I love most will suffer and possibly die.

  And that’s one burden I’m not willing to accept.

  I HEAR MY phone ringing in the other room, so I rush over to answer it before it goes to voicemail. “Hello, dear,” I answer, seeing that it’s Cal.

  “Elizabeth, I’m on my way home with Aaron. He’s going to go over the schedule with the both of us for the next couple weeks, okay?” Cal says. It’s been a about a month since Cal announced his candidacy and the tour across America will begin soon.

  “Oh, okay.” I’m a little surprised that I’m being briefed on the schedule, and it must show in my voice judging by Cal’s next question.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I’m just never included in your business affairs.” My teeth clamp down on my tongue and I wish I could take those words back.

  “Excuse me?” He’s calm, but the icy chill isn’t lost on me. “Do you have an issue with the way I handle business, Elizabeth?” Even though I can’t see him, I can picture the anger flashing in his eyes and disapproval oozing off of him. I feel like a child being scolded.

  “No, Cal. I actually prefer it your way. You know how I get bored with constant talk of politics.” I hold my breath hoping my attempt
to brush off my mistake works. Luckily for me, it does.

  “That’s what I thought. I’ll see you in a little while.” With that, he hangs up the phone. My cover up may have placated him, but I could still detect a faint amount of anger. I’m sure I’ll hear about this later.

  Walking toward the front of the house, I go in search of Alex to let him know Cal and Aaron will be here soon. I find him sitting in one of the chairs in the formal sitting room with a newspaper in hand. He looks over the paper, the only thing visible are his piercing blue eyes, when he hears me approach.

  “Hey, Cal and Aaron will be here in a bit.”

  “Okay, I’ll call off the dogs,” he says as he pulls the newspaper away from his face, ending his statement with a wink. That one simple act is so damn disarming, and I don’t know why. As soon as he does it, all working functions in my brain cease to exist. I’ve given the effect he has on me a bit of thought lately, mostly at night when I’m lying in bed and unable to sleep. No man has ever done something as simple as wink and immobilize me. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not the wink that does it, but the man behind it. Every single thing he does causes a reaction from me, and it’s both exciting and terrifying at the same time. I offer him a smile and turn to go back into the living room. I need to put some distance between the two of us before Cal gets home or I won’t be able to get into character and play the perfect wife.

  Thirty minutes later, and I hear the front door open. “Good afternoon, Mr. Fitzpatrick, Mr. Zimmerman,” I hear Alex greet Cal and Aaron.

  “Mr. Matthews,” Cal replies curtly before making his entrance into the living room where I am seated.

  “Hello, love.” Standing from the couch, I make my way over to Cal to greet him with a small kiss.

  “Hi, let’s have a seat. We have a lot to go over in a short amount of time.” I nod in acknowledgment and we all take our seats around the coffee table.

  “So,” Aaron begins, “your lives are about to get hectic. We’re going to start touring the country Monday and making several stops in the battleground states. Elizabeth,” he looks at me before continuing, “you’ll be accompanying him to just about every speaking obligation he has. It’s important to show a solid front, to show that you support his efforts to become president one-hundred-percent. Traveling everywhere with him will portray that. Okay?” I nod my understanding and he continues. “Every first lady has chosen a cause that she campaigned for. Is there anything in particular you feel passionate about? A particular fundraiser or topic you want to bring awareness to?”

  At first my only response is to blink. I’ve never been given a choice of any significance since I met Cal. And now I get to pick any topic I want to support on a national stage. I’m almost a little giddy if I’m telling the truth. Finally, I get to take a stand for something important and show what I’m passionate about. Once I’m over the shock, my answer is really simple.

  “Education. That was my major in college, and I feel it’s an important topic that needs addressing. Our current system is failing our young people, and I’d love to try to make a difference.” I surprise myself with the amount of conviction, confidence, and determination that comes out of me. However, it’s short-lived when Aaron’s shoulders sag and he starts shaking his head back and forth.

  “We need something everyone can get behind, and education is a hot button topic. People have their opinions on how it should be reformed, and we want to stay away from taking a definite stance on that. We need union support so we can’t upset the teacher’s unions, but we don’t want people to see us as only working for them either. It’s a very delicate topic and we can’t afford any missteps leading up to the election.”

  “But this is something I have knowledge in. My degree is in that field and I graduated at the top of my class. If I hadn’t met Cal, I’d be teaching right now.” Well, I don’t know about that last sentence. I love kids and I would’ve loved teaching, but my goal was always to find a well-off man to marry. It’s the one thing ingrained in my mind, then life happened and it became a necessity and my reality.

  Cal starts laughing uncontrollably beside me “I can take a class in anatomy, but that doesn’t make me a doctor. You’ve never taught a day in your life, Elizabeth. How good could your suggestions be?” The condescending laughter from Cal and Aaron that follows cements my humiliation. “Can you imagine?” Cal asks, looking at Aaron. “So, Elizabeth,” he says in a game-show host kind of way, “how long have you been teaching? Oh, that’s right, never!” Laughter ensues from the two of them, neither being able to catch their breath long enough to say a word. Feeling extremely small, I look down at my lap avoiding eye contact with both of them, my cheeks heating from my embarrassment. More than anything, I’m mad at myself. How could I ever let myself believe that I contribute some kind of value to my marriage and his career? I’m mad that I got carried away and felt the briefest amount of excitement at feeling like an equal, when in reality I know that I’m anything but. I’ve always been nothing more than eye candy, a pretty face and supportive woman to hang on the arm of an accomplished man. I don’t need to worry though, because I always have Cal to remind me of my place in this life.

  A throat being cleared catches my attention. I look up and over Aaron’s head into the kitchen where Alex is sitting on his bar stool, drilling holes into Cal. The furious expression on his handsome features is startling. I study the furrow of his eyebrows, the intense stare of his eyes, and the clenching of his jaw until it hits me why he looks so livid.

  Me.

  He’s mad at the way Cal and Aaron dismissed and mocked me. The realization soothes my hurt feelings slightly. His support for me might be silent, but it does more for my self-esteem than any man in my life ever has.

  “Elizabeth,” I hear Aaron say, bringing my attention back to him. “If you want to work with kids, then we can put you in with the Boys and Girls Club. Everyone can get behind a cause that gets kids off the streets and into after school activities.”

  And it’s final. I’ll be working with the Boys and Girls Club and that’s that. Without waiting for my response Aaron and Cal go on to discuss the tempo of events and the types of speaking arrangements he’ll be attending. I sit mindlessly and barely listen. I’m not expected to do more than smile, clap, and wave at these functions anyway.

  Before, this didn’t bother me much. It’s not like I enjoyed not being acknowledged during important decisions, but it’s something that I’ve always been able to accept and lock away in a part of my brain that knows this is necessary. But something has changed inside of me that makes me want to be heard. I want to share my ideas, my thoughts, and my dreams without the fear of being laughed at or ignored. What’s happened to me?

  Alex Matthews.

  He’s what’s happened to me. He’s given me a taste of what it’s like to be viewed as a person and not an object. He’s slowly opened up this spot in my brain that I have shut down for years. The place that tells me the way Cal treats me is not okay. That maybe the benefits aren’t worth losing my identity over.

  The only thing that pulls me out of my thoughts are the men standing and shaking hands signaling that the meeting is over and Aaron is leaving. I say my good-byes and act like the gracious wife I’m expected to be, following behind them toward the front door. On my way out of the living room, I avoid eye contact with Alex. Before I can make it past him, a gentle touch lands on my arm, stopping me. Reluctantly, I look up to find a set of hardened eyes firmly locked onto my face. As I’m staring into his blue orbs, I hear Cal in the foyer say, “Do you think you can put me down to be an astronaut? You know, since I took a class in astronomy.” By the way Alex’s jaw is ticking, I can assume he heard Cal’s little dig at me. The chuckling that meets our ears does little to cool the fire in his eyes. My gaze travels to the floor as I try to step out of his grasp. I don’t want him to see the shame I’m feeling right now. What kind of woman lets her husband degrade her like that in front of people? When I pul
l my arm, his grip on me tightens, holding me in place. His finger goes to my chin and lifts up so that I’m forced to look at him again.

  “Don’t ever let that asshole make you feel like you’re less than him. Do you understand?” he asks quietly so that only I can hear him. Even though he’s not shouting, I can still feel the threatening edge to his words.

  “I’m fine, Alex, it was just a joke.” My lips lift in the corners, trying to ease his obvious concern. His eyes narrow as he searches my face. For what, I don’t know, but when I pull my arm from his hand this time, he lets go. Walking away at a brisk pace, I make my retreat. It’s getting harder and harder to pretend with him. I see the inquisitive looks he gives me, like he’s trying to sort me out. I fear he’ll be able to see how miserable I really am, and if he questions me about it, I’m terrified I won’t be able to lie.

  TRUE TO AARON’S word, our lives did get a lot more hectic. This week we spent most of our time traveling throughout Virginia. It’s one of those states that’s hard to predict each election and could go to either party. That’s why they call it a battleground or swing state. Since this is the state Cal represents, the focus will be on the other battleground areas, but we’re beginning here to get the tour off to a good start.

  Nothing eventful has happened. Cal speaks to various crowds. I stand off to the side or behind him, and I smile, clap, and wave. Just like I was briefed to do. The part that I hate the most is having Alex here with us. I don’t hate having him around, I hate him watching the way I am with Cal especially after how he treated me a week ago in front of Aaron. Disappointment exudes from him whenever I play up the doting wife role. Or maybe it’s disgust. Hell, I’m disgusted with myself at this point. We’re traveling on this huge tour bus, and Alex is with us every step of the way. It’s unnerving having him watch our interactions. I feel like I’m under a microscope where he’s judging me, and it’s messing with my head. I need to be one-hundred-percent in this to be convincing to Cal and the public, and second-guessing myself because I’m worried what Alex thinks of me is going to cause a detrimental slip up.