(Post presidency)
Warning: Angst galore.
071. Broken
There wasn't a way for him to reach out to her—she'd gotten so good at skirting around her true feelings that even he was convinced she was okay. It was all the more reason for him to feel as guilty as he did, and God knew he had enough of that emotion to last a thousand lifetimes. But this was one of those times where he just couldn't let the guilt go. Leo was there for him when…when it happened. It seemed that he was obtuse to the point of injury to both of them. Her indomitable approach to most things had faltered ever so slightly, her pain hidden beneath a mask of false cheer—it was all for him. He would realize later that because he'd been through this before with Abbey, that he had become somewhat desensitized to this sort of tragedy. In truth, CJ had been inconsolable behind her despondency.
He came to realize the humiliation she felt, after the initial excitement of informing him, and then to have their dream dashed so abruptly in one evening of bitter tears and crimson stained bedsheets. Her body failed them, she resented her age, and she feared he would leave. It was these thoughts, however irrational they may have been, that propelled her through the next month and into a vicious cycle of self loathing that threatened to consume her.
One afternoon he came home to find her curled up on their bed, incoherent with tears, he was floored. He lay down next to her and held her until she cried herself to sleep.
"I thought you were disappointed." She'd admitted in a whisper quieter than the footsteps of a butterfly. Her hand beneath his trembled ever so slightly.
"No," He said roughly, holding her close. "I love you, and you could never disappoint me. We'll have another chance, Claudia."
She turned to look at him, his sincerity and felt the warmth of his embrace.