Page 50 of The Senator: Raphael

He sits on the couch and rubs a hand over his face. I see the tense shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he grinds his teeth. What we’re trying to do is massive. I don’t come from a family with a political history, my father has a not-so-crystal-clear reputation, and I’m running without the support of a party. I’m a lost cause on paper, but we’re not just surviving, we think we can win this election. It’s fucking exhausting.

“Do you think you can stay with her for the long run? For the White House?” There’s hope in his voice.

“She’s the only person I would consider living with for that many years. She’s smart, caring, she has a big fucking heart,” I admit without hesitation.

“Sounds a lot like a real marriage to me. A loving one too.” He frowns.

I look down at my desk, not sure I can look at him in the eye. “But it’s true, right?”

“Do you think she’d agree to do it?” There is a timid, hopeful smile on his lips, and I hate to be the one to wipe it from his face.

“No. She won’t be here for the long run,” I murmur, and feel an uncomfortable grip squeezing my heart.

I look out the tinted window of the luxurious car and feel pain spreading through my chest. The houses are a bit run-down and the front yards are so far from the manicured lawns of the richer part of the city this could be another planet entirely.

A woman with a toddler in her arms looks out the window at our car driving past her house. I raise my hand to wave but then I remember we have tinted windows and she can’t see me. I wish I could smile at her, stop and ask how her day is going, ask what we can do to help her fix the broken steps leading up to her house. But I can’t. We’re stuck in this car, with security and blacked-out windows, so far removed from the real world that it feels like I can’t reach it.

“This is why we didn’t choose these schools. The neighborhoods are not as good as the ones you’re used to.” Matthew chooses this moment to speak to me for the first time since leaving home this morning.

I turn toward him. Raphael insisted I take him with me today. He said it’s because Matthew can help answer questions about my past that I can’t navigate, but we both know he wants to be sure I’m safe, and he trusts his best friend with his life and mine.

His attentiveness makes me smile. I like when someone is invested enough in my life that they pay attention to those kinds of things. On the other hand, I don’t know what Matthew has against me, but I don’t feel comfortable in his presence. He pushed Raphael to marry me, and now he seems to regret his decision. There’s no open hostility between us, but we’re not best friends either. I get that he wants to protect Raphael, but I’m not the enemy here.

“I’m not worried about the neighborhood.” My answer is a bit more clipped than I intended.

“Your face suggests otherwise.” He raises an eyebrow, challenging me to contradict him.

“I’m annoyed by the fact that people can’t see inside the car. I wanted to wave at that woman, but I can’t. We’re so out of touch in here, we could be aliens for all they know.” I don’t make an effort to hide my annoyance.

He stays silent for a while then adds sternly, “So you’re saying you removed your engagement ringnotbecause you’re worried they might steal it?”

I frown and study him. I can’t tell if he really thinks I’m someone who would do that, or even be worried about something like that. It’s so far from my reality and my actual concerns that I don’t think he’s made one ounce of effort to get to know me.

“I removed it because it would be insulting to have a gazillion-dollar ring on my finger when these people don’t even have money to buy school supplies for their kids. Yes, I’m worried about these visits, but not because of the neighborhoods. You shove the cameras in my face and put my image out there without caring that you’re putting my life in danger. I agreed to help Raphael and I knew what I was signing up for, but don’t insult my intelligence by assuming things about me that are not there,” I spit back at him.

He seems taken aback; he opens his mouth to say something but hesitates. When we pull up in front of the school and Sven opens the door for me, I’m glad our conversation is over.

I step out of the car, and cameras start to photograph me, kids cheer, and I’m pulled into a new reality, almost forgetting the discussion I just had with Matthew. It’s in the corner of my mind, but I’m so overwhelmed by the welcome I receive that it’s not nagging at me.

The principal, a woman in her fifties with black wavy hair and a smile that could brighten up a stormy night, comes to greet me. “Welcome to our school! We’re glad you chose this neighborhood to visit. The kids are so excited.” She shakes my hand.

I smile at her and can’t contain a bit of nervousness creeping into my stomach. These kids are welcoming me with colorful signs, smiles on their faces, and hope in their eyes. I feel like I’m betraying them; I won’t be here to keep my promises a year from now. I hope Raphael will do it for me, will do something for them. I know he has the heart, but I won’t be here to help him.

I focus my attention on the kids, to a girl around six or seven years old, with two brown braids cascading over her shoulder and a gap where her two front teeth are missing. She’s wearing a bright pink dress with a pair of beaten-up white sneakers. She’s so happy her eyes are shining. My chest caves in a little bit more. What promise can I make to this girl if I can’t be here to keep them?

I return my focus on the woman in front of me. “I’m happy to be here with you today. I hope I’m not disrupting your routine too much.”

She waves a hand and smiles, dismissing my concerns. “Trust me, they’re thrilled to not be in class today. And to be honest, the teachers are excited to have you here too. It’s not every day that someone acknowledges our school.” She winks at me.

“I’m here to make sure that you’re not forgotten in the future,” I tell her and her smile broadens. I hope this is not a big fat lie.

“Please, come meet the kids.” She puts a hand on the small of my back and guides me to the giggling bunch of elementary school students.

We spend the morning walking from class to class, assisting with some of the lessons. The teacher explains the challenges they are facing, from kids not coming to school because their parents work three jobs and can’t get them here during school hours to the lack of money for basic things like paint for art class or pencils and paper for math.

The more I walk through these halls, the more I feel like an impostor. I’m here, faking my fantastic life in Malibu, promising these people I can change things, and I don’t even know where I’ll be next year. The thought of sucking it up and sticking around Raphael for the long run crosses my mind a lot this morning. I’ll never have a normal life anyway, so why not stay here? Every time I think about it, I’m overwhelmed by emotions I have difficulty controlling.

I look at Matthew, who’s observing me with an unreadable face, quietly present to solve any problems that may arise while I’m here, but he’s Raphael’s campaign manager. He solves my problems because they are alsoRaphael’sproblems. If something that concerns me doesn’t affect Raphael, I don’t know if Matthew would step in. I feel alone in this life, and I don’t know if I can think about having a family if it’s just me against everyone. Raphael doesn’t even have real relationships. He has sex with prostitutes. I saw him walking out of the club with one of them with my own eyes. I’m his fake fiancé and he doesn’t even touch me if it’s not for a show, for Pete’s sake! How can I think of starting a family like this?

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