Chapter 1

Abbey's POV:

I sigh as my eyes fly open. 'Too early. Way too early.'

The early dawn's light seeped through the curtains. A quick glance of the clock showed 6:45. Even the alarm wouldn't go off for another half hour.

A cold draft eases its way over my naked body. I snuggle down further in the covers and pull the blanket a bit closer.

My nakedness is a leftover from our celebration last night. Jed had been so depressed when I had first seen him in the Oval but then something happened. He had changed. His attitude changed from darkness to light. From down to up. And he had a look on his face that I had never seen before.

And he was frisky. We stayed at the goodbye party for the staff for about an hour until his nuzzling my neck had finally warmed my body to the liftoff threshold. It was time to go. For both of us.

And go we did. A bottle of chilled champagne was waiting our arrival but it still sits unopened on the coffee table.

The minute the door was shut he attacked me. I remember the exact scene:

Walking over to me, he pushed me back on the bed. "I've been waiting all night to do this," as he locked his lips over mine. I sure as hell didn't fight him. But then as he pushed his fingers into my opening, I pushed him off and said, "Wait!" I'll never forget the stunned expression on his face. I couldn't help but laugh when he whined "Abbeyyyy. Why are you stopping me?" He was so cute.

"I'm stopping you because we need to lose the clothes. And make love, Jed, not just screw your wife."

"The President wants his First Lady."

"Well the President can have his First Lady but he has to lose the clothes. The First Lady doesn't want any more fabric burns."

Within minutes we had both lost the clothes and proceeded to make passionate love. Several times. In fact, I don't think either one of us went to sleep much before three. Yeah, he might be over sixty but the man still has the power.

'Oh, God what power', as I stretch and relive the complete feelings of love and satisfaction.

I smile as I turn over to see my sleeping husband flat on his back, the sheet barely covering his bare chest. His steady breathing telling me that he's still asleep.

He's still the same guy he was eight years ago. A little grayer, a little more weight, but Thank God! I'm taking him home today. At times I wasn't sure that I would be able to get him out of here in one piece. All the disturbances and interruptions. The late night calls. The early morning wake-ups. All the disturbances that come with being President.

No disturbing him this morning.

For the first time in eight years there would be no early morning staff meeting.

No early morning call to the Situation Room.

No phones or knocks disturbing both their dreams.

His last morning as President. My last morning as First Lady. In a matter of hours we will be on our way to Manchester for the final time. And this time we will stay forever.

Eight years in Washington.

How quickly they have passed.

TBC