THE CONGRESSMAN'S MUSE (Sandro Marcos)

Chapter 44: Forced Distance

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across Sandro's office as he reviewed yet another stack of documents. The demands of his position had only intensified since the public revelations, and the pressures were beginning to take their toll. It had been weeks since he and Lexi had spent any significant time together, their once-regular meetings now reduced to brief, hurried phone calls and stolen moments whenever their schedules allowed.

Sandro rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of him. He was drowning in a sea of commitments and political maneuvering, his days consumed by endless meetings, strategy sessions, and public appearances. The one constant in his life that had always been a source of strength—his relationship with Lexi—was now under strain from forces beyond their control.

He reached for his phone, hoping for a message from Lexi, but the screen remained blank. They had spoken briefly that morning, but the conversation had been cut short by an unexpected conference call. Sandro sighed, feeling the familiar pang of longing and frustration.

Just as he was about to return to work, his assistant knocked and entered the room. "Congressman, we need to discuss the upcoming fundraising event," she said, her tone efficient but tinged with sympathy. "It's in a week, and the logistics need your attention."

Sandro nodded, forcing a smile. "Of course. Let's go over the details."

Lexi sat at her desk in her apartment, the silence of the room feeling almost oppressive. She had been working late into the night, her mind occupied with a project that had recently consumed her professional life. Her work had become a welcome distraction, but it also meant she had even less time to connect with Sandro.

Their conversations, once filled with warmth and shared dreams, had become terse and practical. They spoke of schedules, obligations, and the latest developments in their respective worlds, but the deeper, more intimate exchanges had become rare. Lexi missed the way they used to talk—about their hopes and fears, their plans for the future, and their simple moments of joy.

She glanced at the framed photo on her desk—a picture of her and Sandro from happier times, their smiles wide and their eyes sparkling with love. It was a poignant reminder of what they were fighting for, and it only deepened her sense of longing.

Lexi's phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Sandro, sent during one of their brief conversations earlier that day: *Thinking of you. I miss you. Can we talk tonight?*

She typed a quick reply, her fingers flying over the screen. *I miss you too. Let's talk tonight. I'll call you around eight.*

As the clock neared eight, Lexi prepared to call Sandro. She found herself anxiously pacing her apartment, the weight of their forced distance pressing heavily on her shoulders. She knew they were both doing their best to maintain their connection, but the constant demands of their lives were making it increasingly difficult.

When the call finally connected, Lexi's heart ached at the sound of Sandro's voice. "Hey," he said softly. "How was your day?"

"It was busy," Lexi replied, trying to keep her voice upbeat. "A lot of meetings and deadlines. How about yours?"

"Same here," Sandro said with a sigh. "I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water. There's so much going on, and it's hard to find a moment to breathe."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came from years of knowing each other well enough to understand when words were unnecessary. Lexi could hear the exhaustion in Sandro's voice, and it mirrored her own feelings of weariness and frustration.

"I miss you," Lexi said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I miss us."

Sandro's response was immediate, his tone tinged with sadness. "I miss you too. More than you know."