It takes every ounce of will power you possess to leave his office with your head held high and your back straight. You feel as if everyone is staring, as if they know � how hard this was for you, how much it hurt, how much you cared� Everything.

Of course, they don't know, not really. You're that girl from Russell's campaign. The chicken fighter. The one who rallied in support of the opposition.

They don't know anything about you - or your history. They don't know about Wisconsin. They don't know about the job you had before you worked for Russell. They don't know that for seven long years you saw yourself as Josh's girl Friday, the one he counted on the most, the one he cared about above all others.

They don't know how much it hurt when the truth of your situation was made clear to you.

They don't know about Gaza or Germany or how it felt when you came home.

They don't know the agony you went through when you finally had the nerve to leave.

They don't know that every night you go to bed missing a man that was never truly yours to miss.

They don't know anything about you.

All they really know is that they were told to put you on the schedule. Probably by Leo. Possibly by someone in the White House. Definitely by someone with more authority and power than them.

You're just a name on a schedule, a face from the news.

They probably don't even know you used to work for him.

And still� even knowing all that, you can't help but imagine their stares as you walk away with tears in your eyes. You can't help but imagine that they can see the hole in your heart, the pain in your soul, the emptiness inside you� Everything.

Including how much you're clinging to those final words �

I miss you every day�

~~~

Thank you for your time.

You stare after her as she walks out of your office, out of headquarters, out of you life - again - and every single thing you've never said to her is choking you until you feel like you can't breathe.

You put your heart on the line, as much as you've ever been able to around her, and still.. she walked away.

You want to stop her, to tell her everything, but you're paralyzed by fear, the same fear that stops you every time.

Your staff is looking at you curiously, wondering about this woman who was put on your schedule without your approval, who managed to make you speechless, who left your office looking far less confident than she did when she walked in.

And who left you looking so stricken.

You don't give them the satisfaction of an explanation. You simply walk back into your office � alone � and slam the door shut behind you, your mind replaying every missed opportunity.

There are so many things you could have told her, at so many different times.

You could have told her how much her unique interview style impressed you on the day you first met.

You could have told her how much she inspired you, how she was the one that kept you focused and grounded. You could have told her that you always strived to be a better man because of her.

You could have told her thank you.

You could have told her that as mean-spirited and interfering as you were, you really only ever wanted her happiness.

You could have danced with her at Inaugural balls and made her understand that not only did she look amazing, she was amazing, in every possible way, and that you couldn't live without her.

You could have told her that you brought her roses once - red ones - or that you cried at her bedside.

You could have told her that getting on that plane back to the States was the hardest thing you'd ever done� Until the moment she walked out of your bullpen and you realized that working at the White House would be impossible without her.

But you never told her any of those things. You kept them locked inside, safely hidden away.

And now she's walking away from you for the last time and there's not a single thing you can do about it. Because you never told her any of it.

~End~