Chapter 2: Meat Pies, Memories, and Modern Secrets

When I woke up, I found Carter actually watching over me by my bed.

He sat quietly in the armchair, dark circles under his eyes, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. I blinked, unsure if I was dreaming.

He smiled gently, but there were obvious dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. I wondered if he was worried about me, or just exhausted from running the country.

“You’ve been surrounded by staff lately—it’s really hard to see you.”

He sounded almost shy, voice softer than usual. I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

He took out a brown paper bag from his coat and handed it to me. “Try it—see if it tastes the same as before?”

I hesitated, then reached for the bag. The aroma hit me instantly—savory, nostalgic. My stomach rumbled.

I hesitated, but took a bite. The crust was soft, the meat filling fragrant and juicy—just like the old days.

I closed my eyes, savoring the taste. It was a flavor I hadn’t had in years, and it brought back a flood of memories.

Carter and I were childhood sweethearts, so we’d spent a lot of time together growing up.

We’d grown up two blocks apart, riding bikes through the neighborhood, building forts in the backyard, daring each other to climb the tallest trees. Our families were close, and so were we.

Once, I pestered Carter to go on an outing, but we ran into soldiers from the old regime rounding up girls for the capital.

It was supposed to be a simple picnic, just the two of us and a basket of sandwiches. But trouble always seemed to find us.

Their quotas were strict, so they grabbed any girl alone. At that moment, Carter had gone into the bushes to relieve himself, and by the time he came out, I’d already been thrown into a van, destination unknown.

I remembered the panic, the fear in my chest. Carter was nowhere in sight, and I thought I’d never see home again.

Fortunately, Carter found me by following my dropped earring. He’d trained in self-defense since childhood and risked his life to rescue me and the other girls.

He tracked me through the woods, fighting off guards with nothing but grit and a broken branch. He was fearless that day, the kind of brave I’d only seen in movies.

But he’d only focused on following my trail, so after rescuing me, he had no idea where we were.

We stumbled through the underbrush, lost and hungry, but together. Carter never let go of my hand.

His money and belongings were lost in the fight.

He checked his pockets, but all he had left was a battered watch and a pocketknife.

Carter told me not to be afraid—he’d take me home.

He squeezed my hand, looking me in the eye. "We’ll get back, Savannah. I promise."

All the way, he held my hand tightly.

His grip was steady, grounding me. I clung to him, grateful for his strength. I felt safer than I had in days.

Since we didn’t know the way, he asked anyone we met. We walked a long, long way, from dawn to dusk, until my stomach was growling.

We flagged down passing cars, begged for directions, and wandered through half the county before we found a familiar landmark.

He traded his last valuable watch for two meat pies, but gave them both to me.

He handed me the warm pastries, insisting he wasn’t hungry. I knew he was lying, but I was too tired to argue.

I only ate one, wanting to save the other for him.

I wrapped it in a napkin, tucking it into my bag. He smiled, ruffling my hair.

He kept refusing, so I told him to hold onto it for me, and if he was really hungry, he could eat it.

He grinned, tucking the pie into his jacket. "I’ll keep it safe," he promised.

He put the meat pie in his jacket, grinning, “I’m afraid it’ll get cold, so it won’t taste as good when you eat it later.”

He patted his chest, joking that he’d keep it warm for me. I rolled my eyes, but secretly, I was touched.

I never ate that second pie, because we finally found the Lee family.

We stumbled onto my street just as the sun was setting. I burst into tears when I saw my brother waiting on the porch.

My brother was furious, scolding us for an hour before letting us rest.

He paced the living room, ranting about responsibility and safety. Carter just nodded, taking it all in stride.

I was so hungry after the scolding that I remembered the pie in Carter’s jacket.

I dug through his pockets, searching for the pastry. He winced when I brushed his chest.

He’d kept it there, and his chest was burned.

The hot pie had left a red mark, but he never complained. I felt a pang of guilt, but he just laughed it off.

After that, I gradually developed feelings for Carter.

It wasn’t a lightning bolt, more like a slow dawn. I started noticing the little things he did—the way he looked out for me, the way he listened.

My brother, though, looked down on him more and more after that.

No one was ever good enough for me, but Carter especially seemed to rub him the wrong way. Maybe it was a brother thing—or maybe Carter just had that effect on people.

Maybe it’s the rebellious streak in me. When my brother told me about our childhood betrothal, I resisted Carter. Now that my brother didn’t like him, I wanted to be with him more.

I was stubborn, always doing the opposite of what I was told. Carter never pressured me, just waited patiently.

I asked him why he risked his life to save me. He said he was anxious at the time and didn’t think of anything else. Besides, he was afraid that if he went back for help, it would take too long and something bad would happen.

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just did what anyone would do," he mumbled.

“You’re my future... wife, of course I should protect you.” He blushed and lowered his head.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes, but I could see the truth in his smile.

“How boring. We’re just childhood sweethearts—do you really feel responsible just because of an emotionless engagement? That’s too goody-two-shoes.” I was a little disappointed, thinking he was still stuck in old-fashioned thinking.

I teased him, trying to get a rise. He just blushed harder.

“No, no, I... I’m a man, men should take care of women. Besides, if I hadn’t promised to take you out, you wouldn’t have been caught. I...” He got flustered, his face red.

He stammered, words tumbling over each other. I hid a smile, enjoying his discomfort.

“Oh, so it’s just guilt.” I found him funny and turned to leave.

I pretended to be annoyed, but I was secretly pleased.

“No, no! It’s not just guilt, I, I, I... I like you!” He stomped his foot and ran away in embarrassment.

His confession was so earnest, so awkward, that I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe there was hope for us after all.

Interesting, maybe this guy isn’t so bad.

I watched him disappear down the hall, grinning. He was growing on me.

At the time, power struggles were everywhere, but the old regime was still lost in excess, conscripting unmarried girls for the capital, even targeting local families. To keep me safe, my brother hurriedly married me to Carter.

The wedding was small, rushed, but filled with hope. I wore my mother’s pearls, Carter wore a borrowed suit. We promised to take care of each other, no matter what.

That was the happiest time of my life.

We built a little world of our own, safe from the chaos outside. For a while, it felt like nothing could touch us.

At home, my brother spoiled me but kept many rules. With Carter, I could do whatever I wanted.

He let me be myself—messy, loud, curious. He never tried to change me.

No matter what I did, no matter how outrageous, he’d just smile and tell me to be careful.

He was patient, steady. I tested his limits, but he never lost his temper.

The only time he got angry was when I blew up the house experimenting with gunpowder.

The explosion rattled the windows, and he came running, face pale. He scolded me for the first time, voice shaking with fear. Honestly, I probably deserved it.

He coaxed me, but scolded me harshly: “What if something happened to you?!”

He pulled me into a hug, then pushed me away, tears in his eyes. I promised to be more careful, but we both knew I wouldn’t stop experimenting.

Afterwards, my brother kept scolding him for being useless.

He took it in stride, never arguing back. I admired his patience, even if I didn’t always understand it.

The Whitman family went through a lot, and Carter had to rebel, but somehow he became President, almost as if it was fate.

He rose through the ranks, surprising everyone—especially me. Sometimes, I wondered if he missed the quiet life we once had.

The sweeter the memories, the more they hurt now. Sometimes I wished I could forget, but I never really wanted to.

Eating the meat pie, I couldn’t help but cry.

The flavors brought it all back—childhood, safety, love. I let myself feel it, just for a moment.

Carter smiled hopefully, as if I’d gone back to the old days.

He reached for my hand, eyes shining. I pulled away, not ready to forgive.

“Carter, we can’t go back. I’m actually not happy here at all. Don’t be fooled by my carefree appearance—I’m just pretending. Let me go, okay? I know you didn’t care about my brother’s scolding back then. I’m... I’m not from here.”

I blurted it out, unable to hold back. The truth hung between us, heavy and raw.

Carter nodded. “I know. You’re... a modern person.”

Carter nodded. “I know. You’re... from a modern world.”

His voice was gentle, understanding. I stared at him, stunned.

I perked up. “How do you know?”

I leaned in, searching his face. Had he always known?

He tapped my head lightly. “Silly, on our wedding day, you got drunk after one glass.”

He smiled, remembering. I blushed, embarrassed. Great, I was a lightweight even in another life.

“You told me you didn’t belong here, that you were from a modern world, and that living here made you feel stuck between two worlds.”

He recited my words back to me, word for word. I felt exposed, but also relieved.

“You even pulled my ear and said that in your world it’s monogamy—no extra partners. You said if I ever married another woman, you’d chop me up.”

He laughed, rubbing his ear. I covered my face, mortified.

As he spoke, his eyes turned red.

He blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. I reached for his hand, but hesitated.

“Sorry. I clearly promised you, but I... didn’t keep it.” He actually knelt down, tugged my sleeve, and shook it like a spoiled child. “Savannah, can you not leave? I’ll give you an explanation.”

He looked so vulnerable, so desperate, that my anger melted a little. I wanted to believe him.

Seeing him in his suit, so humble, I was moved for a moment.

He was still the boy who’d saved me, who’d carried a meat pie in his jacket for hours just to make me smile.

He’s still stuck in old-fashioned thinking, but he’s better than most men of his time.

I reminded myself of all the ways he’d tried, even when he failed.

“But Carter, you’re obviously hiding something from me.” In the end, I shook off his hand and spoke seriously.

I needed honesty, not just apologies. I stood my ground.

“I...”

He hesitated, looking torn. I waited, arms crossed.

“I said, since we’re married, we should be honest. If you hide something from me, I won’t forgive you.”

My voice was firm, unwavering. He nodded, swallowing hard.

“But, but I don’t know if I should tell you. I’ve hesitated for so long!”

He wrung his hands, pacing. I tapped my foot, impatient.

“Then forget it if you don’t want to say!”

I turned away, frustrated. The silence stretched between us.

I was really angry!

I slammed the door behind him, letting my anger simmer. I deserved better.

So Carter left angrily that day.

He didn’t look back, and I didn’t call after him. We were both too stubborn for our own good.

After that, Carter never set foot in the West Wing again.

His absence was palpable. The staff tiptoed around me, unsure what to say.

I, the First Lady, lost favor, and Marissa finally got her wish and took advantage.

She moved into the spotlight, smiling for the cameras. I retreated to my suite, licking my wounds.

Soon, Marissa announced her pregnancy, and Carter created a new title—Chief Advisor—for her.

The news spread like wildfire. The staff whispered behind closed doors. I tried not to care, but it hurt.

At a White House banquet, I couldn’t help but snap: “Why create a Chief Advisor? Why not just give her my First Lady position?”

The words slipped out, sharp as knives. The room fell silent. Carter glared at me, but I didn’t back down.

Carter no longer had his old tenderness. “Marissa is more gentle and understanding than you! You used to be sensible—why are you so unreasonable now?”

His words stung. I clenched my fists, refusing to let him see me cry.

“Fine, understanding, then you live with your understanding one. I’m unwell—I want to visit my family.” Actually, I’d packed long ago; today was just to tell him.

I stood up, chin high. The staff watched, wide-eyed. Carter said nothing.

“We’re with the First Lady.” Senior Advisor Harris and the other candidates stood up together.

They flanked me, loyal to the end. I felt a surge of gratitude.

Yeah, they’d said more than once they’d rather stay in my suite forever than serve Carter.

We were a team, united by science and barbecue. I smiled at them, proud.

At least I could buy them barbecue—better than Carter making them eat cornbread as President.

The candidates nodded, muttering about the horrors of boiled greens.

“How dare you! I forbid it!”

Carter slammed his fist on the table. No one moved.

“If you forbid it, at least give us more money! You’re the President, but we live worse than farmers!”

Senior Advisor Harris spoke up, voice steady. The room erupted in nervous laughter.

Carter was furious, but the candidates had already lined up and left the White House.

He watched, powerless, as we marched out, heads held high.

As soon as I left, I ran into my brother.

He was waiting by the gate, suitcase in hand. I threw my arms around him, relieved.

He was confused. “The President summoned me to D.C., said he had a surprise for you, and made me a senator!”

He waved his appointment letter, grinning. I laughed, shaking my head at Carter’s scheming.

“So the President gave you a house in the capital?”

He nodded, proud as a peacock. I rolled my eyes, but I was grateful.

Great. I didn’t want to travel far, so I moved in with the candidates.

We piled into my brother’s new house, filling every room with laughter and chaos. It felt like college all over again.

Leaving that jerk of a man, my sisters and I spent our days eating, drinking, and learning chemistry—the noble ladies were so bored, always forced to do embroidery, but they found chemistry pretty interesting.

We held nightly study sessions, turning the dining room into a makeshift lab. The neighbors complained about the smell, but we didn’t care.

Sure enough, without exams, everyone was eager to learn.

Freed from the pressure of grades, the candidates blossomed. They asked questions, experimented, and even started their own research projects.

They pestered me to do experiments every day, which was tough on my brother’s house—over a hundred rooms got blown up, only thirty-something left.

We went through more glassware than a college chemistry department. My brother started sleeping with earplugs.

“It’s a presidential gift—why feel bad?” Senior Advisor Harris comforted me.

She winked, handing me a cup of coffee. I grinned, grateful for her support.

Six months later, news came from the White House: Chief Advisor Marissa gave birth to the President’s eldest son. Carter was overjoyed, made him the official heir, pardoned the nation, and held a banquet for all officials.

The news was everywhere—front page headlines, endless TV coverage. I tried not to care, but it was hard.

At the same time, there was a mysterious explosion at Senator Jennings’s mansion south of the capital.

Rumors flew—some said it was sabotage, others blamed faulty wiring. I kept my mouth shut.

That night, the White House issued a statement: Senator Jennings brought a weapon to the banquet and tried to assassinate the President, but was stopped by Secret Service, with all officials as witnesses.

The story was wild, but people believed it. The Senator was arrested, and his supporters scattered. I shook my head, wondering how people could buy it so easily.

The explosion at the Senator’s mansion was taken as a sign of bad luck.

Superstition ran deep. People whispered that the Senator had brought it on himself.

Most people were superstitious, so they believed this proved Carter was the true President. The Senator’s followers all surrendered to Carter, pledging loyalty.

The tide turned overnight. Carter’s grip on power was stronger than ever.

“First Lady, the rebels are gone. The President orders us to escort you back to the White House.” The Secret Service knocked on our door.

They stood at attention, crisp uniforms and serious faces. I sighed, knowing I couldn’t refuse.

Marissa was ordered to step down, but she asked to see me before her departure.

She sent a note, requesting a meeting. I agreed, curious.

“First Lady, the President is merciful. He didn’t really want to fire me—he still cares for me.” Marissa gave a bright, showy laugh, trying to flaunt her youth and beauty.

She tossed her hair, trying to look triumphant. I just waited for her to get to the point.

“I really have to thank this face that looks like yours for letting me keep my job.”

She smirked, but I saw the sadness in her eyes.

“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine, isn’t he going to make you an ambassador with a big salary? Should I, as your colleague, be jealous?”

I tried to sound casual, but I was genuinely curious about her next move.

Marissa jumped up in fright. “How did you know?”

She stared at me, shocked. I shrugged, enjoying the upper hand.

“Did you really think the explosion at your uncle’s house was lightning? The whole White House is learning chemistry!”

I winked, letting her know I was in on the secret. She laughed, shaking her head.

I’d already guessed, and after some threats and coaxing, Carter told me.

It took some effort, but he finally spilled the beans. I felt oddly proud of my detective skills.

So I came up with the plan and helped him out a little.

We plotted together, covering our tracks. It was almost fun, in a twisted way.

I brushed the dust off my hands. “Enough, your office is too stuffy. Let’s just pretend—come to my suite.”

I offered her a seat, pouring us both a cup of tea. She relaxed, dropping the act.

Marissa stuck out her tongue. “I wanted to annoy you one more time before leaving.”

She grinned, her old spark returning. I laughed, shaking my head.

Marissa swore nothing ever happened between her and Carter.

She leaned in, voice low. "He never touched me, Savannah. It was all for show."

“I knew he married you, so I didn’t want to marry him. But my uncle wanted to control him, so he wouldn’t let me refuse. He threatened my mother and fired my guards to warn me.”

Her voice trembled. I reached out, squeezing her hand.

“From the first day I married him, he told me clearly he’d never love me, and my face, which looks like yours, at most made him feel a little sympathy. He said he could only treat me as a sister.”

She looked away, tears shining in her eyes. I let her speak, not interrupting.

“These five years, he’s only cared for me like a brother. It was all an act. But for a while, I did like him. So after you entered the White House, I tried to annoy you. But the takeout incident was his idea—he needed to anger my uncle and give you the First Lady title.”

She smiled sadly, wiping her eyes. I felt a pang of sympathy.

Marissa laughed, her face returning to its confident look. “Fortunately, I only liked him a little. I know I can’t compete with you, and now I’m over it.”

She straightened her shoulders, regaining her composure. I admired her strength.

I didn’t know what to say. From beginning to end, I never cared about Marissa.

I realized I’d been fighting the wrong battle. She was just as trapped as I was.

But her cheerful and open personality made her seem more modern than me.

She was bold, unafraid to speak her mind. I envied her freedom.

“You’ll definitely meet someone you like who also likes you. Marissa, thank you. You suffered a lot acting with Carter.”

I meant it. She deserved happiness, just like anyone else.

Marissa pushed my hand away. “Ugh, don’t get too emotional. I didn’t do it for you, but for my mother to be free from my uncle. Also, I’m a woman, but I know the importance of national stability. My uncle framed a lot of good people for his own gain. Helping you get rid of him was also for the country!”

She grinned, wiping her nose. I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in months.

“Mm, I’ll make you a special envoy someday.” I really liked Marissa’s personality. If she hadn’t married Carter, we could’ve been friends.

She smiled, eyes sparkling. "Deal." I grinned, thinking maybe there was hope for us yet.

“First Lady, you and Carter must be happy. He really, really likes you. In five years of chaos, he wouldn’t even date anyone else.”

Her words echoed in my mind. I wasn’t sure if I believed her, but it was nice to hear.

I laughed, but whether I’d forgive Carter, I’d have to see.

Forgiveness would take time. I wasn’t ready yet.

I hate it when he hides things from me.

Secrets had ruined enough already. I vowed to demand honesty, no matter what.