Madam President

Chapter Seventeen

And so, Rebecca retreated to her bedroom. At least for a while. She sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands and her thoughts clouded and dark.

But she couldn't hide from her problems forever, after all. The chef would be here, soon. Lunch would be served.

A lunch that it would be strange for Freen to be absent from, all things considered. Yet somehow, Freen found a reason not to be.

Rebecca found the perfectly decent meal almost inedible, yet she liked the chef so much she forced her way through at least half of it before excusing herself, making up some excuse about needing to take something for a headache.

Something mundane. Something believable.

The last thing she expected to see was Freen sitting on a chair in her bedroom looking out the window.

Rebecca hadn't had a chance to really look at her earlier.

She hadn't had a chance to appreciate the way the arms of the sweatshirt she was wearing were pushed up to her elbows or the cut of her jeans and the way they hung over her brown leather boots.

She hadn't got a chance to appreciate how strangely soft she looked with only half her hair pulled back and the rest hanging in waves against her shoulders.

"Can we talk?" Rebecca asked as she pushed the door shut behind herself. "That's why I'm here." Freen responded without looking over.

"I see." Rebecca cleared her throat and stood there for a moment, unsure what to say now that her request had been granted.

"You're really quiet considering you asked to talk," Freen observed, looking in Rebecca's direction without really looking at her.

She didn't need to focus on her to see the wince her remark brought about.

Rebecca sighed and shook her head as she finally moved in Freen's direction, taking a last glance towards the door to be sure she'd shut it soundly before she sat down in the chair across from Freen.

"I'm sorry to have put you in that position." She finally said quietly. "I really am."

"I put myself in that position," Freen responded simply, leaning back in the chair she was sitting in and looking down at her own hands in her lap. "This is getting...complicated. I should have arrested him. I should have had him questioned. That's protocol."

"I didn't know you had such in-depth knowledge of him if I'm being entirely honest. And I certainly didn't know he'd been trying to see me. When I transferred holdings to him I made it perfectly clear that I wanted no further contact. I just want you to know that."

"I do know that." Freen adjusted herself in her seat and finally looked at Rebecca. "And we all know that separating yourself from him was the only way to go about this. He's..."

"I know." Rebecca's brow furrowed and she swallowed thickly. Her throat hurt suddenly. But that was nothing compared to the tightness in her chest.

"But I don't feel the way that he does. I'm still incredibly sorry that I made you make that decision back there. It's just...he was all I had for so long. Since before I was old enough to not need anyone. Since before I was old enough to realize how wrong he was about his ideals. But I'm not like him. I swear I'm not."

"And you don't need anyone now?" Freen asked quietly. 

Her brows furrowed in a way that accentuated the little scar between them. In a way that made Rebecca's thoughts turn to the fact that she still remembered Freen finally opening up about it.

About the night they'd shared that had led to it.

Freen waited for an answer that didn't seem to be coming and when it never did, she got up from her chair and bit her lower lip in thought before running a hand through her hair in frustration.