The waiter takes our orders before leaving our table where I’m subjected to Catherine’s endless chatter about all things I don’t care about. Who’s dating who. What happened on this show with these housewives. Who had a nose job. Who carried a handbag from, gasp, last season. As always, I smile when appropriate and throw in mindless comments here and there.

Catherine is a nice woman, she really is, but she’s been trapped in this privileged bubble her whole life. For her a tragedy is when her Louboutin shoes get scuffed. She has no clue that there are people out there with real problems and struggles, but I’m friends with her to benefit Cal. Her husband is the owner of Williams Ships, one of the largest shipbuilding companies in the world. And Cal’s family has a highly lucrative contract with them to provide the steel needed to produce their ships.

“So I’m going to charter Henry’s private jet to New York this weekend for some shopping. Would you like to join me?” Catherine asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. Henry is her husband and sends her on weekend getaways often so that he can visit with his mistress. Everyone knows about it, so it would make sense that Catherine does as well, but something tells me she’d rather turn a blind eye than give up the lifestyle she has grown very accustomed to. While her parents are well off, they don’t hold a candle to Henry’s net worth.

“This weekend?” I ask, mostly to buy myself more time to think up an excuse for why I can’t go. Nothing would pain me more than to waste a weekend spending copious amounts of money on frivolous items. Yes, I have plenty of nice things from designers, but that’s all part of the façade. If one is to marry a Fitzgerald, then she will look the way a wife of such a prestigious family should.

It’s another thing Cal informed me of early on in our relationship: Fitzgeralds do not shop at Target. When he said this to me, I smiled and nodded, but inside I was cringing. What would he think if he knew that my family had to shop at Goodwill and consignment shops to put clothes on my back? He knows my family has struggled to make ends meet, but I don’t think he truly grasps the concept. For someone born into a family who’s never had to want for anything, the thought of not being able to pay your water bill is a foreign concept.

“Yes, this weekend. I thought we could leave on Thursday, stay at the Ritz, and come home Sunday night.” Taking a sip of water, she raises her perfectly-arched eyebrows expectantly, waiting for my answer.

“This weekend isn’t good for me.” I make a show of being disappointed by sagging my posture. “I already promised Cal that I would be all his this weekend.” It’s a complete lie, but one I’ve been keeping up for a while now pretending that Cal is the doting husband who loves to spend all his free time with me and attends to all my needs. This is obviously furthest from the truth.

She sighs. “Oh, alright. I guess I’ll have to battle the trenches alone.” Her phony laugh pierces my ears as I take a sip of my water to give my mind something else to focus on. Yes, shopping is exactly like a battlefield, I think sarcastically.

After another hour, I’m finally seated in the quiet space of the car assigned to pick me up from lunch. All that time with Catherine has given me a headache. Looking at my Rolex watch, I notice that it’s only one thirty, which means the cleaning lady is probably still there. It might seem weird, but it’s incredibly awkward for me to be home while she’s cleaning. I often wonder if she’s judging me for sitting around doing nothing while she cleans up after me and my husband. I had told Cal that I’m more than capable of keeping a clean house, but he wasn’t having any of it, insisting that he wasn’t going to have his wife’s hands scrubbing toilets. So, when I know she’s there, I try to steer clear. With no real plans, I decide to drop by Cal’s office for a surprise visit.

WALKING THROUGH THE front doors of the Russell Building, I’m always struck by how grand the southwest entrance is. My eyes travel three stories up the surrounding columns to the dome shaped top before taking in the two marble staircases leading upstairs. It’s a mini rotunda to match the Capitol’s, but without the famous fresco painted on the ceiling. I place my purse on the conveyor belt of the x-ray machine and walk through the metal detector.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the security guard greets me with a friendly smile and a tip of his hat. I don’t come here often, so I doubt he knows that I’m the wife of a senator.

“Good afternoon,” I reply with a smile. Grabbing my bag, I walk through the halls to the elevator and wait for it to arrive. Once I’m inside, I press the floor where Cal’s office is located and patiently wait. I don’t usually drop by unannounced since it tends to agitate Cal a little, but hopefully he won’t mind too much today.

Letting myself into his office, I’m greeted by one of the interns that works for him. She’s a young woman who’s eager to learn and submerse herself in this line of work, keen to move up the ladder. Almost too keen.

“Hello, Mrs. Fitzgerald. How are you today?” she asks, a bright smile on her face, but with some apprehensiveness.

“I’m well, thanks. Is Cal in his office?”

“Yes, the Senator is in there, but he might be in a meeting. Do you want me to check or would you like to go on back?” She starts to rise from her seat, but I wave her off.

“No, it’s not necessary. I’ll just pop in real quick, thank you though.” Turning on my heels, I walk toward his office door. I slowly turn the doorknob and poke my head in, but what I see causes me to pause for a few moments. Cal is kissing a woman on her cheek, but it doesn’t look like a regular peck among colleagues. His hand is placed gently on her elbow, as if to draw her into him. No, this seems more intimate. It could be the way she’s looking at my husband affectionately, or the way Cal doesn’t pull back right away. Either way, this is anything but professional. When they see me, they instantly put distance between each other and straighten up, looking tense.

“Elizabeth, dear, what a pleasant surprise,” he says in a light tone as he approaches me, relaxing his posture. It’s then that I realize I’m still standing in the entryway, doorknob still in hand. My eyes travel over to the woman and she’s looking at me with a small, unsettled smile, hands clasped in front of her, but something is off in her eyes. She’s tense and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she looks guilty and apologetic. Cal gently grasps my shoulders and leans in for a kiss. I’m frozen in my spot and don’t move to meet him halfway, but I need not be worried about that because soon his lips are sealed over mine. My body is screaming at me to pull away. He just had his lips on another woman’s cheek, but my mind is very aware of the fact that the whole office can see us right now and I need to keep up appearances. When he pulls back to look at me, I clear the fog from my head and play the role.

“Hi, love, I was just in the area and thought I’d drop in to see you.” It kills me, but I find the will to smile adoringly up at him, when I would like nothing more than to turn and walk back out of this door with not a glance back. It’s all about composure. I’m expected to present myself in a certain light. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

“I’m glad you did. I was just wrapping things up here.” He turns back to the woman with his arm draped over my shoulders. “Is there anything else you needed to discuss today, Mona?”

She stares at me for a moment before swallowing hard and clearing her throat. “No,” she says as her attention focuses back on Cal. Her posture is stiff and she looks extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I think we’re finished for now. I’ll tell the firm to try to hold off the pressure.” She walks toward the doorway and Cal moves us out of her way.