The least you can do is to pretend that you care.
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Derek POV
The view is always welcoming whenever I stand above the press, walking down the airstair. Far from the plane, the woman dress in purple, putting on the widest smile she ever have for the cameras, waiting for me.
She is my wife, Grace Meyer
It's no longer the synchronization we had as a couple to have guess that she would be waiting for me, rather, it was years of knowing somebody's motive too well. Grace knows how to capture the people's heart, acting like we are the perfect couple and set a strong foundation for my presidency.
Although I hated to admit that part of everything I have today were derived from her hunger for power and fame.
As I reach the last step of the stair, I reached for her, as what she did. Knowing that Rachel will be watching somewhere in the plane, a twinge of guilt hits me as I kiss Grace on her lips.
That's what the Americans expect, for the POTUS to kiss the FLOTUS. Another exchange of glances with Grace, a few more wave to the cameras, we board the limousine.
'So, you are not going to talk to me at all?' Grace started the acidic conversation, she always did.
'Say what you want and I'm all ears.' I took my phone out from my breast pocket, searching for Rachel's number.
'I'm glad you're not hurt anywhere, you have no idea how worried I was, Derek.'
'You do now?' I smirked at her, she doesn't look pleased.
I pressed Rachel's number once I found it.
Miss you already, text me when you are free.
I hit send and locks my phone. Took the remote and on the television inside the limousine. It was playing the live session of my arrival earlier on.
'By the way, your mother will be visiting and I don't think my present will be welcomed anyway.' Grace mentions.
'That's right.' I replied without looking at her. 'It could save a few years of my mother's life anyway.'
'Sticks and stones may break my bone.' She replied dryly, as if we are immune to this kind of conversation.
'Oh, I have no doubts about your ability to survive, you're cold blooded, remember?'
My mother, Vera, have been living in the shadow since my presidency. She has been residing in the Long Island when I bought a house for her after my father, Carl, died three years ago. He did not survive long enough to watch me running the country.
'How long would my mother be here?' I asked.
'Now you are willing to talk to me?' She replied while her attention is fixed on her tablet.
'The least you can do is to pretend that you care.'
I can see that she was controlling her emotion when she took a deep breath. 'Six more days from now. I have arrange the staff to-'
I cut her line off. 'Gavinski will have it all covered.'
'Oh, so Gavinski is also a butler now?' She snorted.
'Nope, but he does it with more sincere than you. Ah, look! We've reached the White House!' I felt relieved when I saw the grandeur mansion approaching soon.
'You can't even stand being in the same place as me right now, Derek?' She crossed her arms, her expression filled with disbelief.
'Many years ago, being away from you for even five minutes could drive me crazy. When you decide to abort our baby, you aborted me from your life as well, Grace. You've become a woman I never knew before, YOU make me afraid.' I look into her grey eyes, the same eyes that I've been searching answer from, the same eyes I've loved until the moment she removed her mask.
We both remain calm after that, knowing that the door of the limousine opens, we'll have to put on joker face and greet the White House staff, I'll have to play the role of a doting husband, and so do Grace.
I cleared my throat, straightened my tie. 'Ready?' Grace locks her tablet, a sign that she is ready. I relax my facial muscle and off, I head out of the car.
'Mr. President.' One of the officer greeted me, I proffered him with a tap on his shoulder as I turn back and offered my hand to Grace which she elegantly held it.
How long is this role-playing going to last? To be re-elected, the foundation of my marriage with Grace have to be strong, or at least, appears to be strong.