Mr. President | jb

nine

It was three a-m and there was a knock on my door.

When I opened it, I expected to be some crazed murderer, so I had grabbed my bat from the closet and slowly opened the door.

But, instead, it wasn't—it was Justin.

His eyes looked tired and sad and they were bloodshot red.
The bags under his eyes were sagging like they were filled with pounds groceries.

"Justin?" My voice didn't even go above a whisper before he stepped inside of my apartment and into my arms.

I did nothing but wrap my arms around him and embrace the moment.

We hugged tight for a few minutes until he decided to pull apart and wipe away his tears and hug me tight again.

"T-the baby's gone...,"

My mind had turned itself into a complete puzzle until I realized what he was talking about:

* Karen's baby is gone. *

Indeed, I was shocked. My mind had instantly went from surprised to saddened in a matter of a few minutes.

But, why would that affect him so deeply?

Unless...

Oh no. Hell no. This can't be.

Justin...Karen...this explained Claire's behavior towards Karen at the ball!

Justin was the father of Karen's baby!

Instantly, my mind crashed. It exploded and I immediately shoved Justin off of me.

"Get out," I say, not even thinking of what I said—just hurt and misery clouding me.

"What?" Justin asked confused. He was busily cleaning up his face.

"I said, get out," I repeat my statement again, making it more clear this time, more aggressive.

"Lana-what?" Justin stood up, "What just happened? Why are you acting like this?"

"I said get out you lying bastard. You're the father of Karen's baby! You lied to me! You lied to your wife, Justin!"

"Lana—I, I can explain."

"No! You can't explain this! There's NOTHING to explain about this. Absolutely NOTHING. Why did you lie to me? Why did you lie to your wife, Justin?"

"Claire can't have kids, damnit!" He yelled, fixing his composure.

"That doesn't give you an excuse!" I scream at him, furious.

I cannot believe him. Not at all. This is ridiculous.

All this time? All of this time? Our 'relationship' was based on lies?

"What are you talking about? You lied just as much I did! You can't go around saying "Oh, you lied to Claire!" When in reality you're just as guilty of being a lying bitch, too!"

My hand raised to his face and I slapped him so hard.
I didn't even know I had that much power inside of me.

"Get out." Was the last thing I said before Justin had disappeared out the door before muttering, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

Today was the day of the speech address and I haven't talked to Justin since he appeared at my apartment three days ago.

I've seen him around. His sad eyes seem to lead a trail of melancholy wherever he went.

The phones were ringing off the roof, people were too busy running around the building and many people were scampering around for any last minute preparations before Justin went live.

I remember that a few weeks back he requested that I was near him. I wonder if I should.

The press was already in the room. Camera shutters and flash were going off at a mile a minute, news anchors were already giving their introduction and journalists were busily writing down any notes.

This was my first time at any of these type of 'affairs'. I'd never even been there, standing.

I took a look at my outfit in the mirror, a rosy, pale pink jacket with a white shirt underneath, a black pencil skirt that highlighted my body, a black shoe with a white stripe over it and silver pearls.

I inhaled and exhaled.

"You look beautiful," I know that voice from anywhere.

But I put my feelings in the back of my head. I ignored his statement, grabbed my binder and papers and began to file out the room.

"Can you still stand next to me?"

I looked him in the eye, and nodded my head 'yes'.

"Thank God," he whispered to himself.

I looked back at him and then out of the room, to the press room.

This was going to be a long day, I can already tell.
But I haven't forgave Justin yet. Not just yet.

I'm still in...awe over what he had done and lied about. But nothing could be undone. Why would you come to my apartment at 3 AM telling me your secret that you've hidden from me?

I guess this is what everyone had said and warned me about. Maybe I was just too naïve to listen.