Chapter One
She remembers the way his wedding ring caught in the lights as he folded his hands across his heart, his form of apology in a place where he can't speak out loud. For a second, she pauses in front of those cameras recording her every word and move; previous instances of that gesture passing through her mind, both before and during the administration.
Toby buzzes her up without even asking who it is; this in itself is more of a surprise than the sound of raised voices and a slamming door, which reach her ears two doors away from the apartment. The shouting stops and C.J. knocks on the door. He answers a moment later, looking haggered and older than he was hours ago when he met her at the airport.
"Andie's filed for divorce."
She hugs him carefully, knowing that at any moment Andrea could come out of that closed bedroom door, never before has she felt so much like the other woman; when really there's nothing going on, there hasn't been for years.
"Two weeks since the inauguration, two weeks," he repeats bitterly.
They part and stand awkwardly for a moment before Toby again breaks the silence. Andie now opens the door, a bag in hand, which she hands to Toby; the briefest glance at C.J., conveying love, hurt and guilt all in one.
"I'll stay in a hotel," he says, accepting the bag from his wife.
Andie speaks for the first time,
"I'll box up your stuff."
C.J. interrupts before the other woman can continue.
"Send it to my apartment, Toby can stay with me until he finds somewhere else. Neither of us wants you living in the office any more than you do already."
Andie smiles forcedly in response. Toby seems to have shrunk during the exchange. C.J. helps him into his coat and scarf. She's taking over now, taking the bag out of Toby's hands and steering him out the door; a final look passes between the women, they understand each other. As if spurred into movement by the click as the door shut, Toby leads the way down the hall and into the mirrored lift. As the lift moves he place both hands across his heart, an apology and thanks in one. She leans against him.
"Come on, let's get back to my apartment and get drunk. No more talking or thinking unless you want to."
The Communications Director and the Press Secretary to the President of the United States leave his building into a flurry of snow, two dark figures silhouetted against the light of passing traffic.