I watched him sleep. He had practially passed out the minute we reached cruising altitude. His face still held traces of boyish charm but the lines were etched deeper. I let my mind wander to when we'd first met.
I'd finally decided to do something. Be something. I'd still been reeling when I'd left Madison, but I'd seen a Bartlet Ad and I'd summoned every ounce of courage and driven to Manchester. The next day I'd walked into the campaign office to volunteer. People were scurrying everywhere. No one noticed me. For a moment I thought about walking back out. What was I thinking? Then I had heard the phone ringing incessantly in his office. The Secretary in me just couldn't let it go. His desk was messy, but the calendar was on top. I could take a message.
When he breezed in, I had told myself to play it cool. Just act like I was supposed to be there.
"I'm your new assistant."
"I had an old one?" He looked confused. And adorable. I tried to exaggerate but just couldn't quite bring myself to lie. Suddenly, he cut to the point.
"When did your boyfriend break up with you?" How had he known? How had he hit so squarely on the sore spot on my soul? "Dr. Freeride" had cost me more than money, more than college, more than opportunities. He had diminished me. All I had wanted when I'd driven to Manchester was to be whole again. To have a purpose. To mean something. To someone.
Then he continued,
"This can't be a place where people come to find their confidence and start over." Direct hit. But somehow I looked into his face and said-
"Look, I think I could be good at this. I think you might find me valuable."
His face softened. He searched my eyes. When the phone started ringing he'd said "Go ahead."
He watched me as I answered. He smiled softly and I grinned at the dimples. Then he took his credentials off and handed them to me and walked out.
That wasn't the moment I fell in love with him. But it was the moment I began to become whole again. To be capable of falling in love. To mean something to someone.