IN MANY PIECES

Chapter 1

"Stop crying Kat, we're almost there." Sam whispers while grabbing a tissue from the table and carefully dabs it under my eyes. "Deep breaths." He murmurs.
My first few breaths are shaky both from my nervousness and the disappointment of us being at another charity banquet for individuals who are already fortunate. The word 'charity' truly has no meaning.

Samuel knew that the only way to get me to leave the house was to straight up lie to me. The lie this time was that he wanted to take me on a fancy date near the Posanair Hotel. The crucial detail he had purposely forgotten to leave out was that we were going to be across the street in The Cubont, where the Department of Home Affairs is located with a room full of people.

The car reaches a stop and I feel another wave of anxiousness incoming along with the familiar feeling of the urge to vomit. Everyone in that party despises me and some are very open about it. When Samuel reinstated the draft I heard the staff in the Northwing of The Cross calling me a joke of a first lady. Never have I ever rushed so fast to my room to inject a syringe full of Nervacaine into my arm.

"Kat," He speaks to me in a calm tone this time and takes one of my hands both of his. "Two hours, all right?" He presses on the side of the table in between us that opens a hidden compartment. He grabs the lens inside it and places it carefully in his right eye. I mimic his actions and take a separate lens for myself, shut my eyes, and feel the uncomfortable object under my lid.

"Do you need your meds?" When I open my eyes Sam is holding out a packet of edible Nervacaine.
I don't struggle to unravel the package and ingest it without bothering to savour the taste of lemon.

Like magic, but really just thanks to the study of medicine and it's effect I feel my face tightening. Now I won't have to worry about crying and embarrassing myself tonight.

"I'm ready." As soon as I say that Sam presses the button that opens the car door on his side and has already stepped out. His fast exit leaves me in shock but I scooch over to his side to get out.

The dress I'm wearing is made out of a silky fabric BIA ordered from Kruton. It took me days to come up with a sketch but a cold autumn really gets your brain functioning. I settled for a square neck so Sam wouldn't be so appalled by extreme modesty. It was all for nothing because when I showed Sam my creation he took a pair of scissors and created my slit for me.

I didn't stop him, I never do. He's been stressed lately due to both his father's and grandfather's nagging. He works late and when he enters our bedroom he either falls directly to sleep or wakes me up to help get his mind off things. However, politics in bed is a major turn-off, but kudos to my dear husband for being able to multitask so well.

I step into the private underground garage with a sleek marble floor, walls, and ceiling. The room truly feels as if it's out of this world and I don't manage to exit. I look around as all the cars are parked in the same garage however it's only our security team that is present. I spot Marcus exiting from the driver's seat of a different car. His hair has received another one of its weekly haircuts and stands proudly at a height of probably 1cm.

I look away for two reasons, one being that I'm imagining my that the top of his head would feel like touching a field of fresh-cut grass and because my husband pulls me to his side by grabbing my wrist.

"I just got a word that Vincent is here." He tells me and brings my hand up to his face. He rubs it onto his cheek.
A disappointed 'oh' leaves my mouth as I fail to frown due to the drug. "Will you be okay?" I ask him.

This time im the one grabbing his wrist with both hands but instead I hug it against his body. "It's okay. I'll be fine." He murmurs only low enough for us to hear. "How about you?" He looks down at me and it makes me feel small.