The Oval Office ✓ (Book One)

Chapter Fifty Eight

"She led a life that most wouldn't dream of. Everywhere that she went, she touched those around her in a positive way." Well that's fucking bullshit- but this isn't for me or anybody else here. It's for Taylor. She used to be my weakness. I would cry when she cried, get suicidal thoughts when she tried to kill herself, get sick when she got sick because I would insist on taking care of her. Now, though- I haven't cried in weeks. I'm numb.

It's her I feel bad for, but no matter how much she cries, I'll never feel bad for our mother. I nervously pick at my nails, barely paying attention to the funeral director. "Now if any family members would like to come up and say a few words, I'd invite you to do so." Taylor's sobs become even louder.

Well fuck me. I sigh, taking the few small steps up to the podium. I can't just word vomit- not now. I definitely can't say what I'm thinking. "Hey sis, I know now's probably not the best time to tell you something like this, but your mother was a piece of shit drug addict who was with my father for money and made it her life's mission to let me know how much of a fucking failure I am even though Kyle and I both worked our asses off to get where we did in our careers and she married into money. I know you never saw that side of her, but I thought you should know. She didn't give a shit when my father raped me. She pretended it never happened. She at least pretended to care for a little bit when he shot my girlfriend, but she was on acid then so it didn't count anyways. At least now, you'll never have to deal with her bullshit the way I did."

No. I definitely can't say that. I tap my foot under the podium, trying to think of something that's not incredibly offensive. "Our mother may not have always been the best... but she was still our mother." Nope nope nope nope nope.

"During the most important moments of my life, she was always there, even if we were arguing." Bullshit. "And I wish that I'd... had more time to spend with her and... got closer to her but... all we can do now is remember her."

Yeah fuck that. She won't cross my mind for a single second once this is over with. In fact, I can't wait to go back home and take a nap. The painkillers they're slowly weaning me off of have me tired constantly, no matter how much I sleep. I'm tempted to just throw them away, but just about every medical study, documentary, and doctor says that's not the best idea.

I sit back down in between Kyle and Taylor, holding an arm out for her to let me hug her. An hour later,when the funeral's over and we can finally leave, Taylor rides back in the same car with us. She's silent- not a single word leaving her mouth the entire time. She doesn't say anything when we get back either, she just goes straight to her room and closes the door.

  Kyle and I lay down on the couch, knowing he only has about an hour left before he has to return to the west wing again.

  "I can't keep doing this job." He blurts out. "It's not fair to either of you."

  "Kyle-"

  "No, I can't. None of this ever would've happened if I'd just-"

  "Kyle. This wasn't your fault. I won't hear it." I interrupt him. He has that same "how do you still love me" look in his eyes I've seen a few times before when he's slightly fucked up. No, this wasn't his fault this wasn't his fault this wasn't his-

  Nobody ever could've predicted that something like this would happen. Sure- an assasination attempt was likely, just like with all presidents, but this was unprecedented. He still looks at me the same way he did twenty three years ago, as do I- so I refuse to even think this was his fault. He and Taylor are tied for the person I love most in this world.