4:00 am.

The incessant ringing woke Emily from her short lived slumber. She grabbed her phone and turned off the alarm, looking for any new messages that might have come through during the night. No fires yet.

She enjoyed mornings like this. No rush. She could get in a quick run before heading to the West Wing. It was the one time she felt in control. Really in control. She could control how long and how fast. Sure, she pretended she was in control at work, but she was faking it. It was actually laughable.

Go in. Do your job. Try to do the right thing without unraveling. That was her goal.

Fake it till you make it.

5:00 am.

Coffee on. Shower on. Quick. Efficient.

Pick out an "in-control" outfit. A skirt. A blouse. Heels. She missed the days when she had weekends off, could get away with only working eight hours, wore jeans to the office.

Impeccable makeup. Flawless skin. Awake eyes. No dark circles or bags. She painted on this mask everyday. She should be used to it by now. She was never one to show emotion at work. This was a men's club. Emotions just weren't welcome.

6:00 am.

Emily locks the door to her apartment and takes a deep breath, not knowing what time she'll be back that night or if she will at all.

The commute is long even though she's less than 20 miles away. D.C. traffic. Today, she hates this commute - it's a waste of time. She could be working, updating the president's schedule or preparing memos for Seth for today's press briefing.

7:00 am.

Emily swipes her badge into the West Wing and smiles kindly at the security personnel. Shoulders back, she walks confidently to her office. There's no time for doubt here.

It's quiet. Not many people around. She lets her smile fall as she continues to her office. It's much bigger than her previous office, equipped for staff meetings and strategy meetings. Aaron was much better at handling those meetings.

She throws her bags on her desk and gets to work right away, while mentally preparing herself for her morning meetings. She thrives on routine, but this morning, she just wants to crawl under her desk and avoid the morning meetings. Avoid him.

8:00 am.

Emily and Tom. That's it. Easy. Comfortable. Just like the old days. But she knows what's coming and can't focus on the agenda for the day ahead.

She gives the president the schedule for the day, "Meeting with Governor Royce pushed to 2 in order to meet with Ambassador Petrov."

"You ok, Emily?" She was never good at hiding things from people that knew her well. Unfortunately, her boss was one of those people. It was a quietness in her voice that most people wouldn't notice, but he did.

8:13 am.

Two more minutes. Her mind ran through a series of excuses that she could use to get out of the next meeting.

She needs to use the restroom, or reschedule the photoshoot. Or a family emergency, so she could just hide for the rest of the day. She knew she wouldn't use any of them, but a girl can dream.

8:15 am.

Exactly on time, he walks in the Oval Office for the daily security briefing. She mumbles a greeting but refuses to look up from her very important paperwork. Not today. She just can't pretend to be ok today.