None.

“It was so nice of you to come visit us.” I’m grasping at straws here and lying through my teeth. I would be perfectly content if I never had to see her again.

She lets out a condescending laugh before saying, “I came here to see my son, not you.” Her voice lacks any emotion or empathy. I’m not sure why I’m so shocked since it’s not the first time she’s been a nasty bitch to me. Maybe because we’re usually completely alone when she does it, but I’m very much aware of the blue eyes I see from my peripheral staring at me.

Looking down slightly in an attempt to hide my reddened face, I say quietly, “Yes, well once Aaron briefs us you’ll be free to go since Cal won’t be back for a few days.”

“I can’t believe it.” I look up to see her shaking her head. “My son is going to be the next president of the United States and he’s got you riding his coattails to become the first lady.” If her words weren’t enough to show her disdain for me, the pure look of disgust written all over her face seals the deal.

“I beg your pardon?” My eyes are wide from shock. Riding his coattails? Everything I do is for him and to better his career.

“You don’t come from a well-bred family, my dear. You’re going to drag him down.” She looks down her nose at me in true elitist fashion. The first thought that goes through my head is, What am I? A fucking horse? How can this woman be so cold and callous to me? But she’s not done cutting me down and humiliating me. “You might as well have grown up in a trailer park for God’s sake. The media is going to have a field day with this one. Can you imagine the headlines? Callahan Fitzgerald,” she waves her hands high in the air, like she’s reading a marquee. “Slumming it with the gold digger from the trailer park. Too late to change it now. A divorce would look worse than marrying a person of low class. Oh, well,” she says with a shrug, “maybe his campaign can spin it so it’s a good thing. Like he brought you from rags to riches and shows compassion for those less fortunate than him.” I can feel the tips of my ears burning from the embarrassment I feel. She’s been abhorrent to me before, but she’s never thrown this shit in my face.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I stand with my head held high, desperately clinging to what little dignity I have left. “Aaron should be here momentarily. I trust you can find the door to let him in.” With that, I turn to get as far away from this pompous, pitiful, cruel woman as fast as humanly possible. Looking at the tiled floor to avoid eye contact with Alex, I quickly brush past him and head up the stairs. I don’t want to face him after the exchange I just had with Grace.

Humiliation doesn’t begin to explain what I feel right now. Once I’m up in my room, I quietly close the door and walk into the bathroom. I climb into the empty tub fully clothed, lay down, and close my eyes. Tears leak out the corners even though I try hard to hold them back. Her words cut me deeply today. Deeper than they have in the past. How can a person fault another human being for being poor? Does she think my parents wanted to struggle and worry where our next meal was going to come from? My mom and dad worked hard for every single thing we had. I’ve never been resentful for the things we had to go without. I knew it couldn’t be helped and I never begrudged my parents for it. They couldn’t help we were poor anymore than a dog can help it’s a dog. It’s not a conscious decision, it just is. Not all of us are fortunate enough to marry men from Ivy League schools who have trust funds to see their grandchildren through if they choose not to work. Myself excluded since I was taught at an influential age to pick money over love.

A throat clearing has me springing my eyes open and jumping out of my skin. A small squeak escapes me as I look up and am met with a fierce look on a devastatingly handsome face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, the concerned, genuine look from yesterday making another appearance. It throws me off slightly.

Wiping away the tears from my cheeks, I sniffle and nod. My throat is clogged with emotion and I don’t trust my voice to sound strong enough to pull off the lie. I’m sure I’m not that convincing as it is with my tear-stained face, but why give him one more reason to not believe me?

“You don’t look okay.” He walks further into the bathroom and has a seat on the edge of the tub. His scent washes over me, bringing about a calming effect.

“I’m really sorry you had to hear that,” I say weakly. “She can be a bit much at times.” Why I’m making excuses for this woman I have no idea. Maybe it’s a way for me to save face. Blame it on the kooky personality and suddenly I’m off the hook.

“You don’t need to apologize, Elizabeth. She was way out of line. It took everything in me not to put her in her place. Why do you let her talk to you like that?” The vein in his neck pulses, showing the restraint he’s using to hold back his temper. I’m not sure why Grace’s attack angers him, but I force myself to look away not wanting to examine those thoughts anymore.

A sigh brushes out past my lips, exhausted from the day already. “Alex, there are so many things you don’t understand. If I let her have it, Cal would be furious with me. That’s his mother and I have to respect that.” Looking up into his eyes, I can tell he’s trying to decide if he believes what I’m telling him or not. I pray I’m convincing enough that he drops the issue and leaves me be.

After a few minutes, he says, “I know there’s more to you, Elizabeth. I can tell there’s someone hidden inside you dying to come out. I can see it in the fake smile you show everyone, including Cal, the way you frown when you’re alone in your thoughts, and the sadness that’s lurking in your eyes. Why are you hiding?”

God help me, but there’s something in the way he speaks to me that makes me want to lay all my secrets and sins bare. He’s soft and gentle, but most importantly, I believe he wants to know more about me. He’s not asking to gain leverage or use it to his advantage, he’s genuinely concerned. And it makes me want to tell him everything. But the rational side of my brain tells me not to, so I reel in this strange impulse to divulge my secrets to a man I hardly know.“It’s really complicated, Alex. Please, you should go.” I plead with my eyes hoping that he’ll drop it and let me gather myself in private.

“Forget complicated. If you’re scared to tell me, fine. But don’t feed me the same lines you feed everyone else. I see through your little act, sweetheart.” The gentle tone he was using moments ago is now replaced with a firm, demanding one. It shocks me and surprisingly turns me on. What the hell? But in the next instant I’m a little pissed.

“My act, huh? You want me to cut the bullshit?” I ask and he nods in reply, his brows furrowed in irritation. “Am I okay with what she just said to me down there? No, I’m completely embarrassed and hate that you heard her cut me down like that. Do I like my mother-in-law? Hell no. I’ve disliked that woman since the day I met her eight years ago. Unfortunately, the feeling is reciprocated, which you got to witness. Will I say something to her to defend myself? No. I’m married to her son and don’t want to cause tension between us. I hardly see her and I can suck it up for the few hours every six months I’m forced to be within that wench’s talons.” I’m breathing heavy after my rant, but I feel so much better. It’s like a load has been lifted off of my shoulders from venting just that little bit of information. I visibly relax and Alex must pick up on it too.

“See, don’t you feel much better now that you got that out of your system?” The grin on his face isn’t entirely smug, but it definitely holds an air of ‘I told you so’ to it.

“Yes,” I concede. “Thank you.” I offer him a small smile to let him know that I’m genuine in my gratitude.