21. #2
The rest of the night unfolded the way these things always did-structured, predictable, and just distant enough that I didn't have to fully be in it.
Structured.
Predictable.
Conversations blurred together-faces I recognized, names I would remember if I needed to. I moved between groups with practiced ease, slipping in and out of conversations without ever fully settling into any of them.
Nodding.
Smiling.
Listening just enough.
It was all muscle memory at this point.
Eventually, I found a moment to step away.
Off to the side.
Just far enough from everything to breathe without being pulled back in immediately.
My hand moved without thinking, smoothing along the sleeve of my dress before drifting briefly to my hair, fingertips grazing over it in a habit that had more to do with control than correction.
Everything was still in place.
It always was.
I let my hand fall back to my side just as a light tap brushed against my shoulder.
I turned and for a split second, something in me stalled.
Not visibly. Not long enough for anyone else to notice.
But long enough.
Then the smile followed, settling into place as easily as everything else.
"Dr. Blair Halbrook," she said, extending her hand. "It's really nice to meet you."
I took it, my grip steady.
"Naomi Housner. It's great to meet you as well."
Up close, she looked exactly how she had on stage-tan skin glowing under the soft lighting, her white pantsuit tailored perfectly to her frame, sharp but still feminine.
Her hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, darker than I expected, framing her face in a way that softened everything else about her.
"I just wanted to introduce myself," she continued, her tone easy. "Your speech was really remarkable. I've been following your work in criminal reform-it's refreshing to see."
"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "I could say the same. Every time I've heard you speak, it's been incredibly well done."
She smiled, a small exhale following.
"Public speaking has never really been my forte," she admitted. "My husband is great at it though. He's been giving me some pointers."
Husband.
The word caught.
My eyes dropped before I could stop them.
The ring sat clean against her finger.
Simple.
But unmistakable.
"Oh," I said softly, lifting my gaze back to hers. "Really?"
She nodded.
"You might not be too familiar-he's a defense attorney. Brian Shaw."
I recognized the name enough to respond.
"That's impressive."
"It works," she said lightly with a shrug.
Her phone chimed then, the screen lighting up in her hand. She glanced at it briefly before tilting it slightly as she dismissed whatever notification had come through.
For a second, I saw it clearly-two little boys smiling back at me from her lock screen.
Something in my chest shifted. Like a piece of something quietly clicking into place.
"Well," she said, stepping back slightly, "I have to get going. The nanny's at home."
"Of course," I replied easily. "It was really nice meeting you."
"You too."
And just like that, she was gone.
I watched her walk away a second longer than necessary, my expression still perfectly in place even after there was no one left to see it. When it finally slipped, it wasn't dramatic-just a small shift, something quieter.
Because suddenly, everything I had built in my head felt unnecessary.
She wasn't waiting.
She wasn't lingering.
She had already moved on.
A husband. Children. A life that didn't pause or circle back or leave space for what used to be.
And I-
I exhaled slowly, my gaze dropping for a moment as the realization settled in fully.
I hadn't been competing with anything.
I had been thinking about her life like she didn't have a new one.
I looked down briefly, my fingers brushing against the buttons of my dress again, grounding myself in something physical before lifting my head.
Vivian appeared beside me not long after.
"Joe's out front."
I nodded.
"Okay."
We made our way out without much else said, the noise of the room fading behind us as we stepped into the night.
The car ride was quiet-not because it had to be, but because I didn't have anything to say.
The city moved past the window in blurred lights and reflections, but I barely registered any of it. My focus had narrowed without me realizing, everything else falling to the background until there was only one thing left sitting at the center of it.
Grant.
Not his past. Not her. Just him.
And the conversation I hadn't had.
The one I kept avoiding. The one that, now, felt less optional than it had before.
By the time we pulled up to the White House, I hadn't moved much at all. I stepped out when Joe opened the door, smoothing my dress down out of habit as I walked inside, my body moving through the motions without needing my full attention.
Vivian fell into step beside me immediately, already speaking-something about tomorrow, scheduling, adjustments-but her voice passed through me without fully landing. I heard her. I just wasn't holding onto any of it.
We moved through the halls like that, her words steady, familiar, routine.
Until we reached my suite.
She stopped as soon as we walked in.
"And Rodney will be back in about fifteen minutes."
That was the first thing all night that cut through cleanly.
I looked at her.
"He wasn't happy with your tone tonight," she added. "He feels like you said something that might make people assume you were referring to him."
Of course he did.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Vivian finished, like that was the end of it.
Then she left, the door closing behind her with a soft click that settled into the room a little too easily.
The quiet followed almost immediately-but this time it wasn't calm.
It pressed in.
Heavy in a way that filled the space instead of emptying it.
My chest tightened before I could stop it, my breathing shifting unevenly as the reality of it settled back in.
I hadn't seen him since that night.
I swallowed hard.
My hands moved before my mind could catch up, dropping my clutch onto the table as I paced once across the room, then again.
Fifteen minutes.
That was all I had before everything snapped back into place-before I had to become whatever version of myself he expected.
My gaze dropped to the bedside table, landing on my keys.
I stared at them for a second, something in my chest tightening as the realization settled.
Then I exhaled, sharper this time.
No.
I turned toward the closet, moving faster now, my hands working at the buttons of my dress with none of the care I'd had earlier. The fabric slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my feet as I reached for something easier-something that felt like mine.
An oversized . Anything that didn't feel like a costume.
I changed quickly, not letting myself slow down long enough to think, grabbing my keys the second I was done. My phone was already in my hand by the time I stepped back into the room.
His name sat at the top of my messages.
My thumbs hovered for only a second before I typed-
Sent.
No overthinking. No second guessing.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, not giving myself the chance to reconsider before I walked out.
The hallway felt too long.
Too quiet.
Every step echoed louder than it should have, like the space itself was reminding me where I was-what I was about to walk back into if I stayed.
I didn't stop.
Didn't slow down.
By the time I reached the car, my hands were already shaking.
Not violently.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough that I felt it when I reached for the door handle. When I slid into the seat. When I pushed the start button and the engine came to life beneath me.
I exhaled once.
Sharp.
Then pulled out.
The gates opened without hesitation.
The city blurred past me in streaks of light and shadow, my grip tightening slightly on the wheel every time my thoughts tried to catch up with what I'd just done.
I didn't let them.
Didn't give myself the space to.
Because if I did-
I might turn around.
And I wasn't going to do that.
Not tonight.