Claire flipped over the newspaper, sipping her coffee in the kitchen as she read that Walker's administration was finding a hard time making the bill work, with Donald Blythe unwilling to come out of his left leanings to get a compromise out of the Republicans.
Francis would've managed it , Claire thought to herself. I would've managed it .
Glancing around at the interior, Claire knew she couldn't stay here forever. She had put the Gaffney house on the market, but besides the cost there were too many memories here, too many nights spent alone for her to shiver, waking in fright to catch her breathing. Feeling powerless was more and more becoming a reality, she knew.
Her contacts had begun to disappear. Whatever clout Francis had brought her, was slipping away as it afforded no political benefits now the Majority Whip position was vacant, two men vying for the position while she sunk deeper into obscurity, relative to where she once was by her husband's connections.
She began drinking more in the evenings, and taking pills to soothe her headaches. She let her hair grow but continued to watch her weight, though she didn't go near the exercise machine she had unearthed of Francis'. Running was her escape from a lost memory.