Page 15 of Better Day

“Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.

He promised we would spend tonight having dinner at home, just the two of us. I have hardly seen him for weeks, and even when I do, it’s normally out at some charity event or political dinner.

We haven’t even had sex in three months.

Like, what the hell is that all about?

Aren’t men supposed to be the horny ones? But instead, it’s me at home wishing I could satisfy myself when being brushed off again gets to be too much. My insecure self that I keep buried down deep is starting to think—no, actually, I’m certain he’s having an affair with Camilla and she just keeps covering for him.

Broken promises are constant, and yet it just seems to be like water off a duck’s back to him.

If I hear the words one more time, "You know I need to do this for my career," I think I’ll scream.

Storming into his office, I do the one thing I promised myself for the last week I wouldn’t do. I start going through his records and searching the computer for files. I’m not sure what I expected to find, but of course, there is nothing out of the ordinary.

I know there is something not right, I just don’t know what it is. Too many things are starting to piece together that his life is not what he makes me see. Standing in the middle of the room, I just take it all in. Everything looks like the typical senator’s office.

Big desk, big leather chair, both to make him look important. The expensive paintings on the wall and the cabinet that has the crystal liquor decanters and glasses. And of course, the bookshelves, with all his books that are expensive first editions or priceless books, so he keeps telling me. Ones I’m never allowed to touch. They don’t interest me anyway, but he is constantly making sure I never touch them.

“Well, fuck you, Senator, here’s to your precious books.” I’m so angry and hurt that once again I have been stood up that I can’t contain myself. I’ve never been a person to take out my aggression on anything before, but this has been coming for a long while.

I grab the first few books, and pulling them off the shelf, I let them fall to the floor. The sound of them smacking down on the hardwood floor is somehow gratifying. Pulling more and more, it’s like a waterfall of paper cascading down from the shelves where they have not moved from since he moved in here, he tells me.

Reaching up on to the tips of my toes, I start on the most precious ones. More important to him than I am, he tells me. What a complete dick!

As they start falling, loose paper starts fluttering down too, and one of the books lands on its spine, opening out flat.

My heart is racing as I scoop the pieces of paper together and stand there staring at his precious book that is hollow in the middle and contains a flash drive I’ve never seen.

Nervously, I pick it up in my hand, moving to his computer and signing on. I have memorized his password without him knowing. The stupid man forgets I’m good with numbers, that’s what I do. Because it has linked into his log in, it doesn't ask for a password to open the hard drive.

As the documents start to open, I can’t breathe.

No, this can’t be. I can’t be with a monster and not know it.

The more I read the more horrified I become. Reading the words in front of me is something I’ll never be able to unsee, but instinct is telling me I need to copy every single file and tell someone. Not just anyone, this needs to go to the highest level. I know what I need to do now.

Sitting here, I see pictures that make me gag with disgust and fear.

No, fuck no.

I need to get out of here.

No one can know I’ve seen this. All of a sudden, my body hits panic mode.

“I can’t breathe, need air… can’t… breathe.”

ChapterFour

GHOST

“Cassandra. Sleep.” Almost commanding her to sleep seems to do the trick.

I hear her first deep breath as she finally starts to fall into a slumber that I hope is peaceful for her. Standing longer than I should, just watching her, I see the sadness on her face is weighing heavily. I’d love to see what she looks like when she smiles and hear the sound of her laughter when she is overwhelmed with something funny. I’ve seen the fire in her when she needs her strength and now her vulnerability in her unhappiness. Every part of me wants to wipe away the bad parts of her world so she only gets to live in the parts where she feels happy.

But instead, I know this woman is going to drive me absolutely crazy. She's stubborn as all hell. Right now, I’m glad she’s sleeping because I was close to losing it with her, and that won’t help anyone right now.

Normally my clients are so terrified I’m lucky to get two words out of them on the first couple of days. Sure, there are lots of tears usually, but the anger she is throwing at me right now shows she’s got guts. She's stronger than most of the men I see in protection.

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