Page 101 of Strictly Business

“What are you talking about?” David glances up at me but still fiddles with the cufflink. “It’s going to be an easy night.”

“David, I—”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No.”

“Then you have to go. How is it going to look if I’m there by myself?”

“I don’t want this.”

There’s a brief pause, and it feels like the air is slowly being sucked out of the room. My hand reaches toward my neck but still finds nothing. The metal heart is no longer there when I need it. Instead, my fingers grasp the kitchen towel, wringing it through my fingers.

“I can’t do this, David.”

Confusion is written across his features. “Michaela, what the hell do you want from me?”

“I’m done. With this…us. I thought this was what I wanted. I thought I wanted to make this work, but… I don’t, and I don’t think you do either, not really.”

“Michaela, you can’t be done. I need you! I can’t run this campaign without you.”

“I don’t give two shits about your campaign,” a breathy laugh escapes my lungs. “I’m not some accessory to make you look good. I’m not here to be the perfect little housewife who spends her days cooking, cleaning, going to brunch with other wives… That’s not me. But, that’s all this is to you, David. It was never about making things work between us. It was about you looking good to the public.”

“C’mon Michaela, don’t do this. We can make this work. We—”

“The thing is, I don’t want to. I get it. You’re busy with the campaign, but do you realize until yesterday we hadn’t spoken since last Thursday? We were apart for three days and didn’t speak one time.”

“We text each other.”

“And in those brief texts, you never once asked me how I was doing or if I was okay.”

“I’ve been busy, I—”

“I know, and that’s okay,” I say softly, “but this life is not what I want.”

“You were willing to accept the same kind of life with Finn Sheffield, though.”

My face falls at the mention of his name. “Don’t bring him into this.”

“I can’t bring up the man who was sleeping with my wife?”

“Finn has nothing to do with this.”

“He has everything to do with this!” David’s palm slams against the island and his eyes are like southern storm clouds just before they unleash a heavenly downpour. If we were outside, there’d be a rumble of thunder in the distance. The air growing more humid and damp, with a distinct smell of earth and ozone one can only know as the coming sign of a summer storm. “I will not have a divorce scandal in the middle of this campaign!”

I wet my lips tasting the matte lipstick coating them. “The truth finally comes out.”

David squares his shoulders, and his lips pull into a tight line, but he doesn’t deny it.

“I will get you through tonight, but after that, I’m done. The votes are going to go how they’re gonna go. I’ve played my role, and I’ve played it well, but…no more.”

Personally, I think tonight was my best show yet. One-thousand-watt smile. Tender touches. Perfectly timed laughs, but never too loud or obnoxious. Listening intently as if every word was step-by-step instructions on how to cure cancer. Applause, feigned shock, and an appropriate kiss on the cheek when the results were called. David had won the primary election, and now it was time to go home.

Walking through the kitchen door, there’s a heaviness in the air. Before I can make a break for the stairs, his voice cuts through the silence. “Don’t do this, Michaela.” His voice is soft, almost defeated. “Don’t…Don’t leave.”

“Don’t leave? You didn’t even want me to begin with!”

“That’s not true, I love you. I do, I—”

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