The Open Secret

15

"You're resigning."

Sigrid looks up from the letter in her hands with a stare as iron-clad as it's ever been. It isn't a question, and so at first, he doesn't answer. Seated in front of her desk in her office, Rob only nods feebly and lowers his eyes without a word.

"You're not serious," she continues, and at last, he sighs.

"I'm afraid I am."

He can see Sigrid turn that over in her mind a few times, letting it sink in, before she asks the question he's been dreading: "Why?"

Exhausted as he is by the events of the past few weeks, Rob realizes he can't find the words to explain. He's rarely caught off guard, always quick on his feet, but despite his best efforts, he's never gotten good at talking his way around a question. Giving non-answers, as Jesse would say. He remembers when Jesse had coached him on that, and his stomach sours.

When he doesn't respond, Sigrid suggests a response for him, "I heard about you and your partner."

"Yes," he croaks, leaving it at that.

Discussing it any further is too painful. She seems to sense that, and they sit in silence for a minute as Sigrid finishes scanning the letter and sets it down neatly before her. Then, she folds her hands and leans toward him, looking him over in a way that is worryingly analytical. He's scared of what she might find in his face that he isn't even aware he's letting on.

"We all thought it was a joke. You and Jesse Klaver. But it wasn't, was it?"

If he weren't running on empty, Rob might find it in himself to be horrified that she knows. Somehow, though, he isn't surprised. No one here pays attention to things - only Sigrid, silent and stoic and watching everyone around her as closely as a sentinel.

He doesn't answer, but that is answer enough. Instead, he just asks, "How long have you known?"

"Months. I started paying closer attention to you when you became so distracted during the formation. I noticed you looking at him during debates. Leaving meetings right after he would. Then there was the holiday party when all you did was stare at him. One of our policy advisors told me that he'd always see you going to each other's offices. I'm surprised you think you were subtle."

Sigrid's stare remains unwaveringly even. She is still calm, her mind churning in silence like a swan's feet paddling furiously beneath the surface of a pond. He wouldn't blame her for being disgusted by him, but she isn't; if anything, she just seems frustrated. Finally, Rob shakes his head and lets his shoulders sag.

"I can't be here anymore, Sigrid."

She rises up in her chair, incensed. "You're young, Rob. You have a bright political future. You're a rising star in our party. Once my time as leader is up, you're the natural successor. You'd throw all that away because of him? I thought you were sensible. It's a waste of your potential, and it's an insult to anyone who's ever believed in you-"

"It's not just that," he murmurs. His tone is morose but steady. He sounds dead inside, he thinks. Hollow shill, indeed. "I'm burned out. I'm tired of it all. The backstabbing. The... the public scrutiny. Nothing is ever genuine. It's all a big performance. And I knew that, coming here." He pauses and looks down at his hands. They feel cold and foreign, like extensions of himself he doesn't recognize. "But I don't want to do it anymore."

He thinks for a moment that she'll continue to push or give him a verbal lashing for being so foolish, but she doesn't. Sigrid reads any situation with the mastery only a diplomat can have, and so she leans back in her seat, looking at him closely for a long time.