Amber and Aaron, a workaholic career woman and her easy going husband.

“So who’s our lucky couple?” May asked, leaning forward.

“I was thinking of checking in on Mr. and Mrs. Hill. They’re a young couple that got the app back in April. They were pretty skeptical but they used it briefly and loved it before putting it away and not touching it for the last 7 months.”

May frowned.

“If they’re not using it, why are you checking in on them?”

“Because I know people.” Abrams said. “And these two want to use it. She’s got a really full job, which is why they’ve been putting it off, but it also ended a few days ago.”

May raised an eyebrow.

“She lost her job a few days ago?”

“In a sense. She’s an election worker. A campaign manager specifically. Kind of a round the clock deal that didn’t leave them much time for it.”

“What makes you think she’ll do it now? Or him, for that matter.”

He shrugged.

“Let’s just sit back and watch. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. But I don’t think I will be.”

*******

“Kimball County’s results are in!” Stacy shouted from across the room.

Amber groaned.

“What’s the damage?”

“Offerman’s got it by 4,372 votes.”

She winced. It was an ugly number.

“4,300!” Her candidate’s husband, a walking short stack of entitlement, hot temper and alopecia, shouted at her. “Amber, that’s terrible!”

“We knew we’d lose Kimball. It’s not our area.” She said, trying to ignore the growing headache that always asserted itself when she was subjected to his voice, “So long as we close the gap in Sawyer, we’ll be fine.”

It was true as far as it went. That they’d lose Kimball was a foregone conclusion, but they really needed a margin closer to 2,300 than 4,300. The gap was growing too wide to close.

“Sawyer’s about to report,” Her deputy campaign manager Dan said quietly.

Amber, who was alternating between coffee mugs, sat down the one filled with espresso and picked up the one filled with bourbon.

“What are you thinking?” She asked, quiet enough that neither the candidate nor her husband could hear.

“I think it’ll be uglier than a pig’s ass.”

And it was.

With the Sawyer results in, and decidedly short of what they needed, the post election conference in the back of the Blue Line Beer Bar quickly transformed from a party into a wake. An ominous silence fell over her small pool of staffers as they waited for the hammer to drop. It didn’t take long.

Caroline Palmer, candidate for Virginia’s vacant 7th Congressional district, stormed up to Amber.

“Good work. I wish we had a better outcome.” Caroline said, an evident chill in her voice. “But I suppose it’s the one you earned for us.”

Amber stiffened at that. It was a harsh rebuke, and in front of her entire team. But one advantage of being an unnecessarily tall woman was that she could cut an imposing figure when she wanted to. She set her jaw, straightened her back and tried her best to look unperturbed.

“We all did our best. We just came up short.”

“Short?” Caroline retorted. “We might lose by ten points. Is that just short to you?”

“How did you let this happen?” Her husband chimed in like the world’s most irritating parrot. “We had no money, no staff, no endorsements...You were the campaign manager! Is this what your ‘best’ looks like?”

”Well, if she’d made fundraising calls, we’d have had money. Amber could have said, If we’d had money, we could have hired staff and if we’d evidently stood any kind of chance, we’d have picked up an endorsement or two. Not that you ever made the phone calls to lobby for them anyway.

Instead, she fixed her blue eyes on her former candidate and said “You’ll want to release a concession statement. I can draft up some talking points but it really needs to come from you.”

It didn’t, but if she couldn’t hold Caroline’s feet to the fire on anything else, she’d at least make her write her own obituary.

Caroline shot her a look that could have frozen magma.

“I’ll get to work on it.”

And with that, she strode off. Her husband shot Amber one last dirty look before shuffling off behind her. Before she could stop herself, she stuck her tongue out at them. With any luck, she’d never see either of them again.

Her attention was drawn away from the departing couple by an arm drawing around her waist. It was Stacy, her field organizer. The pretty, petite brunette was giving her a one armed hug; which was about all she could do given she only came up to her upper arm.

“We all know you did your best.” She said, “Don’t listen to them.”

“Yeah, you made shit into a sculpture here.” Dan agreed, exercising his unique gift for crass metaphors. “Come have a few drinks with us.”

“Yeah!” Stacy agreed with a fist pump. “The Pres results are gonna start coming in here in just a moment and we’re gonna celebrate. You should join us.”

She should, Amber knew. These were the staffers who’d stood by her as the promising pickup opportunity turned into a slow **** march toward the inevitable. They’d worked hard for her. She really did owe them something. Still…

“I really appreciate that, Stacy but you guys have fun.” She said. “I have a husband who’s sorely missed my company these last seven months.”

Stacy gave her an understanding nod and then hugged her again. Dan simply raised a bottle in toast.

On the drive back to her condo in Norfolk, Amber got a really good look at herself in the rear view mirror. She wasn’t a bad looking woman by any means. On her best days she was even called beautiful. But seven months of seven day work weeks, with days that started at six and ended well after midnight had taken their toll. Her normally wavy brown hair had gone months without styling and was now straight and brittle. She had bags under her eyes and hadn’t worn makeup in, what? Eight weeks now? Shortened morning gym visits and too many dinners picked up at a drive through window had left her normally toned, athletic frame softer, and she felt the loss of energy she’d had at the start of this. More than anything, she simply weary to the bone from seven months straight of nonstop mental sprinting.

When she finally arrived at home, she opened her door without announcing herself, wanting nothing more than to fall face first into a pillow.

“Babe?” Her husband called from the living room. “That you?”

“Yeah.” She said, going through the motions. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Following the results.”

He was standing in the doorway to their foyer then, leaning against the frame with a bottle of beer in his hand. The long sleeve t-shirt he wore was pulled taught by his broad shoulders, clinging to the toned muscle beneath it. His red hair was cropped close, combed back on the top and he wore a precisely trimmed beard with a mustache that had grown just a bit too long for Amber’s liking. He was a good three inches taller than her, which was saying something. And when his blue eyes met hers, there was a concern in them that made her melt a little where she stood.

He lifted his arms just in time for her to fall into them, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It was the only place she’d been able to feel anything resembling good in months. She let out a sigh as the tension bled out of her.

“I take it you got killed?” He asked.

She nodded against his chest.

“Well, you knew that was gonna happen.” He said. “You talked to Reese yet? Any idea when you might get reassigned?”

“We spoke for a bit on the way home,” She said of her boss in the Party. “He was kind of noncommittal but I think I’ll have my next assignment come January.”

“Well, guess I’ll just have to enjoy you until then.” He said, and she could hear the smile on his face as he said it.

It was the thing that undid her.

Suddenly, her eyes stung and grew watery. She buried her head in his chest as her tears began to fall, and before she could do anything to stop it, she was crying in painful, lurching sobs.

“Heeeey,” He said, holding her tight. “It’s okay, babe…”

But it wasn’t. In that moment she was overwhelmed by it all; the loneliness of life on the road without him, stress from the relentless pressure of a dozen daily deadlines, the frustration built by the nonstop brawl with her candidate and bitterness that something so promising had gone so wrong. It all washed over her as seven months of tightly bottled emotions burst free through the mental levees she’d erected to get through it all. And the worst, most hopeless part was that she knew it would only be a few months before she had to start the whole process over again.

Aaron was quiet through it all. He just held her tight and stroked her hair as she let it all come pouring out. It made her feel safe, like a girl again. Only when her tears began to subside a bit did he speak up.

“What’s the matter, babe?”

Lassoing some of her emotions, she pushed herself back.

“I don’t know…It’s just you and…Goddamnit, I’ve missed you so much.” She sniffed. “I feel like I’ve lost 8 months of my life, and what was it all for? Some stupid race nobody will remember a year from now?”

Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, but he brushed them away with calloused thumbs.

“It was for you. For us. That career you’re building so we can be comfortable together.” He said gently. “Fuck Caroline. She’s just another stepping stone.”

His serenity and clear headedness helped her steady herself.

“But a stepping stone to what?” She asked. “More of this? Why the hell would I want that?”

She wiped her eyes as he watched, arms crossed over his chest. She was the emotional one, and he was letting her work through her feelings. He stood by, there for her if she needed him, but otherwise letting her parse her thoughts at her own pace like he always did. She loved him for that, and not for the first time, wondered if she deserved him.

“Maybe it’s not, I don’t know.” Amber said. “I’ve only ever done one thing, Aaron. I don’t even know what else I would do. But...I don’t know if I can go on like this.”

“I’m with you no matter what.” He said. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re thinking about it. These cycles make you miserable.”

It was true, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet, out loud or otherwise. Aaron watched her for a moment and then took her hand.

“We don’t need to get into it now.” He said. “I bet it’s been a long ass day.”

“I’ve been up since four,” Amber agreed. “Jesus that was 20 hours ago...I don’t even think I’ve had dinner.”

“Want me to make you something? Draw you a bath?”

She shook her head.

“No, hon. As lame as this sounds, I just wanna sleep.”

He kissed her, and the two went off to bed. She stripped out of her shirt, jeans and bra, replacing them with one of his t-shirts. He stripped down to his boxers and nothing else. She rested her head on his chest, grateful to have had him to come home to.

And suddenly, she found she didn’t want to sleep quite so badly after all. She kissed his neck and straddled his thigh, her fingers running through his hair.

“Baby…” She moaned.

He turned her over in the dark, climbing above her with a strength that took her by surprise. She’d barely registered that he’d done it when his lips met hers, one hand caressing her breast while the other yanked her panties away. She gasped as she felt him against her, hard and eager but hesitant all the same.

“Yes!” She breathed, and it was all the permission he needed.

Afterward she lay on his chest in a daze, barely hovering between consciousness and sleep. In an unusual reversal, he seemed wide awake, her finger tracing her naked spine.

“I love you.” She murmured.

“I love you too.” He agreed. “And I missed you.”

Gingerly, he reached out and guided her eyelids shut. Then, finally, Amber fell into the deep sleep she’d been craving for weeks