The President

CHAPTER 1

LEAH

His fingers trace the ridges on my spine, giving me that familiar knot in my stomach. My body is rigid, unmoving, the tears uncontrollably running down my cheek. The scream is stuck somewhere in the deep darkness of the room I’m trapped in. My mouth is open, my eyes are clenched shut, and the hollow sound of my turmoil is just that…an underwater sound of pain and misery.

I helplessly watch as he removes my panties. I want to kick him in the face, but my legs won’t work. I want to scratch his eyes out, but my arms won’t move. I’m paralyzed. How is this possible? I ran 5 miles yesterday.

His fingers glide along my sensitive clit. They feel like razorblades. It hurts. He’s touching me in places I thought he would never touch again. I promised myself that this would never happen as long as I live, yet here I am. I’m fighting with all my strength to move. I must get away from this monster, the devil.

My stomach burns like hellfire. A searing pain rips through my chest, choking me with a sour tasting liquid boiling up my throat. The pain is so severe. I feel like my chest might explode. Is this what it feels like to have a heart attack? I will happily die from an exploding heart if it means I escape this horrible monster and his unwelcome touch.

My body heaves. Oh, God. I’m going to throw up. My eyes suddenly pop open. I stumble out of my bed with my hand over my mouth, rushing toward the bathroom in a sleepy haze. I slam the toilet seat against the white marble tiles and empty the limited contents of my stomach into the bowl.

A few minutes later, I sit back against the cold tiles with my head against my knees. I patiently wait for a second wave of heaving, but it doesn’t come. I slowly slide myself up the wall once I’m satisfied the nausea is gone. I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and brush my teeth.

The skinny blonde with the dark circles around her hollow eyes stare back at me in the mirror. The horrible nightmares are back, making me tired and irritable. I want to shout at that pathetic, weak creature in the mirror. I want to shake her and tell her to put her big girl panties on. It’s been five years! Five fucking years of fighting for survival, and here we are losing our shit after six months of nightmares and paranoia.

I flip my reflection the bird and leave the bathroom in a huff. I pull my running shorts out of a drawer in my walk-in closet, and a sports bra from another. I get dressed and make my way to my home gym. The gym is a small room with a treadmill, a matted corner for self defense classes with Garth, a television mounted on a wall, and big windows overlooking San Antonio Botanical Gardens. I opt for my AirPods at 5 am. Mrs. Diaz will stone me to death if I blast my workout playlist at this time of the morning.

My treadmill and this tiny room have become my sanctuary over the last five years. The estate agent told me that it would make a beautiful home office, but I only had one purpose for this room. An escape room. This is where I clear my head. A place where I run for miles and miles, feeling the burn in my legs and lungs. Where the horrible realities of the outside world disappear into nothingness. The fog lifts from my mind when I power through my daily goals. One mile became two, then three, and I will push for six miles today. I become determined to escape the hell I find myself in, especially after another horrible dream of past decisions that led me to who I am today.

Six miles and aching muscles later, I slow the treadmill to a comfortable walk. I feel completely satisfied as I bring my heartrate down. I take a deep breath in, feeling ready for the day. The timer on the treadmill counts me down before it comes to a stop. I skip off to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. I am dressed and out the door an hour later for my breakfast date with my best friend, Maria.

Maria and I grew up together. She is the ying to my yang. She is feisty, determined, and the brunette half of me. I walk into the small coffee theatre and immediately see the gorgeous pregnant woman sitting at our usual table near the windows.

“Good morning.” She chimes cheerfully.

“Good morning. How are you and little bean today?” I ask as I take the seat opposite her.

“You know that name stuck, and Garth is going to call this baby ‘little bean’ for the rest of his or her life regardless of what I say.” I give her a soft smile. Not really feeling bad about that.

“I know. Are you ready to find out if it is a his or hers?” I wave to the waiter, who knows our orders off by heart. He smiles and nods.

“Oh, hell yes! I need my best friend to come and design the most amazing baby room Texas has ever seen.”

“You know I can do that without knowing the gender of little bean.” Maria waves me off with a roll of her chocolate-colored eyes.

“Oh, no. I want everything in that room plastered with every shade of pink. I know this is a little princess, and I want to enjoy the look on Garth’s rugged face.” Maria and I let out a hearty laugh. Garth will have heart failure if everything is covered in pink.

The waiter arrives with our creamy lattes, two plates stacked with pancakes covered in honey glazed bacon strips, and an extra bottle of maple syrup. Maria craves pretty much anything covered in copious amounts of syrup. I nearly died when she drizzled half a bottle of maple syrup over a gherkin.

The crispy bacon crunch between my teeth, “Are you sure you want me there today?" I ask after swallowing. “This is something special you should share with Garth.”

She chews slowly, giving me that familiar stink-eye. “I want you by my side, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

I know Maria well enough to realize when I should wave the white flag. This is an argument I won’t win, especially since the answer has been the same for the last one hundred times I asked the question.

“Will you pick me up?” I ask with a sigh, making an overdramatic show of annoyance.

“We will pick you up at 13:00 sharp.” Maria says in her stern military voice.

“Yes, ma’am.” I mock salute, making us both laugh.

I silently stand in the corner of the examination room, watching my two best friends holding hands and laughing. Garth makes a joke about how protective he’ll be if little bean is a girl. Maria giggles and lightly smacks him on the arm.

I’m happy for them, but I won’t stand here and deny how much it stings. It’s been five long years of mourning my loss. A loss no person would understand until they experienced it for themselves. I have my good days, and then I have these days. I’m trying to be happy. I’m trying to celebrate this wonderful miracle with them, but it fucking hurts. It hurts so deeply.

Get out of your head! This is not about you.

Maria gives me a smile, and I force myself to smile back. That sympathetic glint in her eyes flash at me, and I ignore the shit out of it. Garth and Maria are the only people who knows what happened. They’ve been supporting me since that horrible day, carrying me through rivers of tears and over mountains of heartache. The least I can do is stand here and be supportive.

Dr. Wallis enters the room with a clipboard under her arm. “Test results came back positive. Everything looks good.” She says as she takes a seat next to the monitors. She presses a few buttons on the one monitor before turning her attention back to Garth and Maria.

“Are you sure you want to know the gender of the baby?” Garth nods like a bobblehead dog in the back of a beat-up Corolla.

“I already know it’s a girl. I just want definite confirmation for the husband over here.” Maria says with a proud smile.

“Doc, I’m desperate here,” Garth says. “These girls are conspiring against my manhood. My house will look like the inside of bright pink cotton candy if this is a girl.”

The doctor and I let out a little giggle as she finally rubs the gel on Maria’s swollen belly. Tears swell once the monitor pics up the heartbeat. A fast dum-dum echo through the sterile room. I remember the first time I heard my angel’s little heart. It’s the most amazing sound in the world. I watch the image of little bean on the screen and force another smile.

“Let’s see…Well, there is no argument that this is an extremely healthy little boy.” Dr. Wallis points at the very visible appendage on the screen.

“That’s my boy!” Garth shouts as he jumps out of his chair, throwing his arms in the air like he just won a marathon.

“My, my, my…He’s definitely his Daddy’s little boy.” Maria says with a fast-growing red color from her chest to her cheeks. I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from howling in hysterical laughter. The type of maddening laughter that would get me locked up in a padded cell.

Dr. Wallis hands a roll of tissue paper to Garth, who dutifully cleans the gel off Maria’s baby bump. He gently talks to his son, telling him how awesome his mama is. I give them some privacy until all the gel has been wiped off and Dr. Wallis has stepped out of the room. I move closer as soon as Garth pulls Maria into a sitting position. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and give her a tight squeeze.

“Congratulations. It’s officially a Mr. Bean.” Garth howls in laughter, and Maria rolls her eyes at me.

“For fuck sakes, Leah. It’s bad enough that I now have to plaster the baby room in everything camouflaged.” I help her off the bed with a genuine smile.

“Serves you right, wife. It’s karma for all the times you made me look at pink paint samples, and don’t get me started on the fluorescent pink baby blanket you stashed away at the bottom of the linen cupboard.” Maria stares at Garth in disbelief. I can see the tirade of cursing on the tip of her tongue, but it quickly disappears when Garth kisses her forehead.

My sassy little friend pretends to be indignant as she turns to me. “Come, Leah. I want movies, popcorn, and a whole tub of rocky road.”