When I woke up, he wasn’t lying next to me. 

“Danny!” I called, as my feet padded across the floor, my whole body aching for a cup of coffee. As I opened the door into the kitchen, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around, my eyes meeting a kind face staring right back at me.

“Good morning, Maddy,” my assistant, Mrs. Russell, chipperly stated, running a hand through her perfect golden hair. She had gotten married young, and her youthful glow never seemed to fade.  I rubbed my eyes. It was going to be a long day. “Your husband is waiting for you in the foyer.” I thanked her, walking past her into the bathroom. 

I stared at myself in the mirror, my wrinkles protruding from my pock-marked skin. I had just celebrated my fortieth birthday, and I’d honestly never looked older. I sighed, rubbing some moisturizer into my face, pretending to make an effort at hiding my imperfections. But it was hopeless, so I gave up and continued into the foyer.

My husband, the illustrious Danny Hughes, the author of three best-selling philosophy books, already had two cups of coffee resting on the coffee table, and his eyes were ogling his favorite book, Slaughterhouse Five. He looked up at me and smiled. “You always look so put together,'' he said admiringly, reaching for my hand. I managed a tight smile, took the cup from the table, and sat next to him, reaching for the pile of never-endless papers. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his smile falter.

“Maddy! You must get to work immediately! The head of the military is waiting for you on the phone, Madame President!”, Mrs. Russell shouted. I noticed a strain in her voice, and chose to ignore it.

I nodded at her, and said that I’d answer the phone in a second. I needed to get outside first.

I walked into the garden, turning around to see the beauty that is the White House. Ever since I was a kid, I imagined myself in this place, setting the standard for our country. This had always been the dream. I took a sip of my coffee and smiled. All the work I’d put in had paid off. I must have stood there for around thirty minutes, until I heard a clamor coming from inside the building.

“Maddy! Answer the phone right away, there’s an urgent message for you,” Mrs. Russell fearfully exclaimed. There were tears streaming down her face, her voice cracking. Her jubilant aura, one which was usually incredibly prevalent, was completely gone. This when I started to get uneasy.

I closed my eyes, heaved a worried sigh, and went to the landline. It was its very own room, as a lot of strategizing went on in there. When I picked up the phone, there were only two messages. The first one was from the military, which I suspected was what Mrs. Russell had been talking about. The other, oddly enough, said “Unknown”.

I listened to the head of the military as he screeched that the White House was under attack, and certainly the rest of Washington as well. The secret service just found a bomb that had somehow been placed near the Washington Monument. 

I paused the message. I felt like my head was underwater, all of my thoughts hazy and muddled together. Who could have possibly had access to the monument? A terrorist? Someone on the secret service, FBI, CIA? It seemed impossible. Many thorough background checks had been done on all the members of any given protection program in America. I listed to the rest of the message. For now, the General said, I should just stay inside the White House, under lockdown, until someone could disarm the bomb. A timer on the bomb said that there was only one hour left until it explodes. “No pressure,” the General said, trying to laugh. The laughter got caught in his throat.

“Huh, yeah. No pressure,” I said gravely, as I called the General back, thanking him for his message, and notifying him about my safety. “I’m completely safe. I’m certainly not in any impending danger if I have Danny by my side.”

When I first met Danny, it had been the summer session at Yale when I was a sophomore. He was a rising senior, and we had a political science class together. The first thing I noticed about him was that his nose was always in a book, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose, his hair an unruly, messy blonde. He had been reading Brave New World, one of my favorite books. When I had gathered enough courage to talk to him, I found that he was everything I had imagined; kind, smart, and most importantly, quiet. I couldn’t have someone stopping me from my dreams to be President. He always supported me, so there had never been any marital troubles my high school friends always complained about.

Next, I listened to the “Unknown” message. Immediately, I recognized Danny’s voice. “Hi, Madame President. Um, if you were wondering, I’m sitting by the Washington Monument. I always knew you didn't care about me. Um, anyway, if you really cared you would come see me right now. Uh, bye”.

Immediately, I sprinted out into the streets, running towards him, ignoring all the security guards who shouted my name. As I approached the Washington Monument, I saw Danny lying down in the grass, the sun illuminating his hair in a golden halo. He was hugging something to his chest. To my shock, it was the bomb, strapped to his entire body. 

When I was standing over him, he lifted a hand above his blue eyes, trying to see me clearly. “Hi. Question: did you know I could build a bomb? I took a chemistry class at Yale senior year, while we were dating. Do you not remember?” I hadn’t. I shook my head. “Yeah, see, because you never actually talked to me. Everything was always about you.’

“Danny I’ve always-”

“No. Don’t say it because we both know it’s not true. I’m just the first man. An object.” Maybe he was right. My job had always been my number one love, above everyone else. The realization must have dawned in my eyes, because he smirked knowingly.

“Okay. Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he said quietly, and pressed a button in his hand I hadn’t noticed before.

“NO I-”

Then everything went blank.

When I woke up, he wasn’t lying next to me.