Read Online The World: According to Graham by Layne Harper - Free Book Online

the cover of gossip magazines flaunting Graham’s single status. Of course, they call him Revere, which makes me crazy. Graham is his name, and he loves me. Revere and some supermodel at a party. Revere and a pop singer dancing at a night club. His target demographic for the Sons of Liberty tour is men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five. Those magazine covers are good for his image.
    Just to torture myself a little more, I lean forward and peek out of the closed blinds just to see what my view would be. “Oh God,” I sigh as I sit back in my chair. It’s not the White House lawn, but Graham’s home backs up to a ravine with a stream that runs through it. It’s so tranquil and just what I enjoy staring at when my mind needs to wander.
    Closing the door on my beautiful room makes me sad. I know Graham’s motivations for building it for me. He’s showing me that he wants me in his life. He may have needed time and space, not been able to properly tell me where his head was at, so he decided to show me. The message has been received loud and clear. I’m just not sure if I can stay in D.C. or even want to. He’s on the road touring for the next eighteen months. That’s no place for a family. I’ve had a taste of that life when President Jones traveled by bus all over the country campaigning. It was hell, and it took a real toll on Shelby and the boys.
    One night, Shelby broke down in tears. It was over something simple, but I knew that it was the overwhelming frustration of not having a place to call home—of losing her privacy and her boys missing their friends and schoolmates. Through her sobs, she told me that she felt all alone. That night, we ditched the campaign and found a movie theater. We watched a chick flick, ate popcorn mixed with M&M’s, and then finished the evening off with mint chocolate-chip ice cream. The night made both of us feel human again.
    I smile at the memory, but also know that if I join Graham on tour I will become Shelby. I’ll be friendless, lonely and lose my privacy, all while experiencing changes to my body that I can’t even fathom. A tour bus is no place for an infant. And there’s no point in me staying in Washington. I might as well go to Texas. At least I will not be alone.
    My head falls back against the desk chair. It gives a weak squeak of protest. It’s not quite exactly like the one in my office. This one is new and needs to be broken in.
    How did my life become so complicated? Before Graham I could play my life like a board game. Everything was predictable. I knew with the roll of a dice where my next move was. Now, I’m a flag flapping the in the wind. The room—it’s just too much.
    One of the bonuses of my pregnancy is that the more exhausted I become, the more nauseous I get. I’m beginning to feel queasy. It could be the hormones or it could be the personal space that he created and my turmoil over what to do. I decide to let it rest tonight and I’ll discuss it with Graham tomorrow. I note the time on my watch. His flight must have been very delayed.
    My overnight bag is where I dropped it. I carry it into Graham’s room and unzip it. My pajamas are on top, but I can’t bring myself to wear them. I want Graham to hold me—for him to surround me—so I walk back to his closet. It’s so pathetic and I wish that I could fight off these girly impulses but tonight is not the night. I succumb to being a lovesick sappy girl.
    One of the last shirts towards the back of his closet is a blue button-up that looks as if it has seen better days as a thin layer of dust that rests on the shoulders. I pull it off the hanger giving it a brush and bring it to my nose. Inhaling deeply, I sigh. It’s the scent of him that I crave so much. As I button it over my bump, I imagine his arms pulling me against his chest and him whispering in my ear how much I mean to him. Sighing at how pitiful I’ve become, I grab my toiletries bag and phone and head to the bathroom