Page 13 of The Senator's Wife

“Good.” Clint nodded, his dark gaze becoming hard. “Anything come up on the first husband, Robert Chase, that we might have missed?”

“No. I’ve even looked into his family background: his mother, Rosemary Chase, and the cousin, Peg Montgomery. And a deep dive into Sloane, the senator’s widow,” she said.

“No longer a widow. Now a wife again.” Clint cocked his head.

“Righto. I’m curious to meet the eminent Sloane Emerson Chase Montgomery. Quite the cushy life—born with a silver spoon and living in her Georgetown mansion without a worry in the world.”

Clint smirked and looked at his watch. “It’s later than I realized. I need to get going.”

Athena tried not to let her disappointment show as they walked to the door.

“See you tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay.” She watched him walk down the hall and into the elevator. Closing the door, she felt the familiar loneliness descend upon her. Nights were the worst: dinner by herself and an evening alone stretching ahead of her. Too much time to think about how empty her life was. It hadn’t always been that way, of course. But it was even more painful to remember what had been.

She clenched her jaw, berating herself for being so self-absorbed. Crossing the room, she grabbed her keys. A walk would do her good, get her mind off herself, she thought as she left the condo and headed to the lobby.

The evening was warm, and the streets of Adams Morgan crowded. She walked along Eighteenth Street, past the colorful shops and eclectic restaurants, until she came to Lost City Books, one of her favorite haunts. Athena loved the comforting smell of old books, the fine feel of rare volumes. She pulled a book from the shelf—A Room with a View,by E. M. Forster—and, opening to a random page, read.We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows.

She closed the book and, with tears in her eyes, wondered for the millionth time what her life would be like if she’d made a different choice that day. And if the shadow would follow her forever.

- 10 -

SLOANE

Sloane was shocked when she opened her eyes and read the time on the bedside clock. Three thirty in the afternoon? She couldn’t believe she’d slept the day away. She’d finally given in and taken a sleeping pill last night to try and dull the pain. The room was dark, the blackout shades still tightly drawn, and Whit’s side of the bed was empty. She’d had trouble sleeping the past few nights, her body aching and her mind racing. She calmed herself with the knowledge that after next week, she’d have a new hip, and the pain would be gone. It was bad enough that over the years, at times, the lupus had rendered her weak enough to be bedridden, but she hadn’t anticipated that the treatment would come with its own host of problems. The steroids reduced the inflammation and pain that came with her swollen joints, but now her bone density was compromised as well.

When she’d first been diagnosed with the chronic disease that caused the immune system to attack the body, Robert had been by her side in every way. She thought back to that dark day twenty-one years ago. She could picture it as if it were yesterday. Robert sat next to her across from the doctor’s desk, clutching her hand in his.

“I wish I had better news, Sloane.” The doctor’s eyes were filled with compassion.

As he went on to explain the disease and her options, the room seemed to fade, and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She tried to focus on the doctor’s words, but all she could think about was a future cut short by illness and suffering. She sat, numb, as Robert took notes, asking all the questions she couldn’t. Her bodywas attacking itself. The possibilities…were daunting. They rode home in silence, with her staring out the window and Robert giving her the space she needed. She worried that if her disease took too heavy a toll, Robert wouldn’t be able to take care of her. And Emmy—what would happen to Emmy if she lost her mother just as Sloane herself had? It was all too awful to think about. She felt herself sinking, drowning in fear, and then her thoughts went back to that night, the summer before her junior year in college. She’d just turned twenty-one, and she and Camille sat at the bar sipping beer at O’Leary’s Sports Pub, feeling so grown up. Sloane swiveled around on the barstool and to her surprise saw Robert at one of the pool tables across the room. “Look. Your brother’s here. C’mon.” She slid off the stool, her heart beating faster, and walked over to him, putting her money down under the bumper.

“Well, if it isn’t Sloane Emerson, all grown up with a beer in her hand and ready for a game of pool.” He chuckled. “It’s my table, but you can break.”

“No, you’re the winner. You break,” she said.

“Nah, I’ll give you a fair shot. You’re up.”

“Okay.” She shrugged and took a cue from the rack, chalked the tip. Placing the cue ball slightly off center, she hit it, scattering the balls across the table, but sinking none.

She thought she saw a slight smirk and heard something like atsk-tskfrom Robert as he bent over to line up his shot, but first he looked back at her and said, “Six ball, corner pocket.” He sank the ball, then two more, but on the fourth shot he missed.

“My turn?” she asked.

“All yours.”

Sloane smiled inwardly as she proceeded to run the table, sinking every ball, then turned to him and said, “Eight ball, corner pocket, just in case you’re wondering where I’m going.” And sankit.

Robert was a good sport and laughed with her. “Do you always win in two shots?”

“No, I usually win on the break, but I didn’t have my personalcue.” She told him how her father had taught her the game when she was still in grade school, and they’d played almost every night at home.

The two of them closed the pub and spent the dwindling days of summer together every chance they got. He told her later that he’d fallen in love with her that night—with her steely confidence and grit, with her sense of playfulness and love of life.

She breathed in deeply as they pulled into the driveway, repeating those words over and over in her mind. Confidence. Grit. Love of life. This was a time to bring to bear every ounce of her inner strength, not fall apart and feel sorry for herself. She would find out everything she could about lupus and its treatment, learn all that she needed to do to keep her body strong. She wasn’t going to let this illness beat her. She would face it head-on and fight like hell. For her daughter, for her husband, for her life. When they walked into the house, Robert stopped her in the hallway and embraced her.

“We’re going to get through this. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in her ear.

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