Calculated Distance: Public Office, Private Closures

Within minutes, we were up in the air.

The familiar, low rumble of the engines lifting us away from the runway dissolved into a steady background hum as the grand palace and the surrounding estate receded into the distance.

"Smooth takeoff," Armand remarked softly from across the aisle, adjusting his position in his seat.

"As smooth as it gets," I replied, forcing a faint nod before sinking back into my seat.

Leaning back into the deep leather cushion of my seat, I closed my eyes, taking a fleeting moment to settle my racing thoughts. My mind was crowded with competing demands, but overarching them all was the immediate, unavoidable conversation I had been dreading for weeks.

I opened my eyes and turned toward the oval window, watching the landscape below shrink into tiny, geometric shapes. The sprawling manicured grounds of the palace lost their definition, fading into indistinct patches of green and stone before disappearing entirely behind a dense carpet of cloud cover.

I exhaled slowly, a long, deliberate breath. There was no point in delaying what was already long overdue.

After several minutes, a soft electronic chime signaled that the seatbelt sign had turned off. I glanced up at the illuminated overhead indicator, waited a beat, and then unbuckled my seatbelt. Standing up, I turned toward the aisle, stepping quietly down the length of the cabin toward the jump seat that Khalid was sitting in.

The moment he looked up and caught me approaching, his expression shifted instantly. He made no attempt to conceal his reluctance, and I recognized the look immediately. He wanted to sleep. And in all honesty, I couldn't blame him in the slightest. He was very busy with his wives last night.

Between fucking me, entertaining dignitaries at the banquet late into the night, fucking his wives, and was in the diplomatic meetings with his father and I this morning, the man was completely spent. It had been an exhausting blur of non-stop demands, and I was genuinely surprised he still had the stamina to sit upright. I was operating under the exact same crushing fatigue, made exponentially worse by severe jetlag that seemed to settle deep into my bones.

For a split second, I nearly turned on my heel and walked back to my seat. Almost. But I knew myself too well—if I backed out now, I would spend the entire fourteen-hour journey agonizing over the conversation instead of simply having it.

When I reached his quarters, Khalid looked up at me, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Deppgrl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly with sheer exhaustion. “What’s up?”

I hesitated briefly, shifting my weight.

“Not much,” I said.

He fixed me with a heavy, skeptical stare, raising one dark eyebrow. “Then why are you standing here looking like you’re about to tell me something terrible?”

I let out a quiet sigh, scanning the immediate cabin to ensure complete privacy before looking him squarely in the eye. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

Khalid shifted his position, sitting up a little straighter in his seat as he visibly forced himself awake to engage with me. “All right,” he said, nodding once. “Go ahead.”

I took a deep, steadying breath.

“Due to new aspects in my life as the Prime Minister of Canada, what my new profession entails while shedding my old professions, and the fact that my travel is under constant public scrutiny because of my office, I need to be extremely careful about how I spend time with personally and professionally.”

Khalid’s tired posture hardened, his expression growing noticeably more serious. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you and I need to end our sexual relationship.”

For several long, heavy seconds, he remained entirely silent, letting the words sit between us. The hard line of his jaw revealed his immediate frustration.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.”

He ran both hands over his face, releasing a tired, frustrated breath. “I don't like that.”

“I know you don't.”

“And this is strictly because of your position?”

“Yes. Well, most of it,” I explained, maintaining a calm, empathetic tone. “My position changes everything. Who I see, where I go, who I'm photographed with, who I'm associated with—none of it is private anymore. The other part of it is that you’re a prominent public figure, and the world knows that you’re married.”

Khalid turned his head, gazing out his window into the blinding white sea of fog outside.

“I understand,” he said finally, though the underlying edge of irritation was still palpable in his tone.

“I knew you wouldn't be happy about it,” I admitted softly.

“No,” he grunted. “I’m definitely not happy about it.”

I offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

He turned back to look at me, searching my eyes. “Will we still be in each other’s lives?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard for a moment.

“Yes,” I answered measuredly, “but to a far lesser degree than what we have... or had.”

Khalid observed me in silence before asking, “So can we be friends?”

I paused, knowing that total clarity was the only respectful option, even if it was uncomfortable to articulate. “I know it might eventually get back to your father, King Hamad, for me saying this, but...”

He waited in silence, listening intently.

“The truth is, Khalid, you and I weren't truly friends. We were fuck buddies who shared a high level of trust.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly at my unvarnished honesty.

“Furthermore,” I continued, “given your religious beliefs, it’s forbidden in Islam for us to hold a friendship between opposite genders. I will always continue to be respectful and friendly with you whenever our paths cross.”

He nodded slowly, processing the logic. “So you're saying things will mostly remain the same politically and professionally, just without the sex?”

“Yes.”

Khalid leaned back into his headrest, staring up at the cabin ceiling for a quiet, reflective moment. “I suppose I should have expected this eventually.”

“I didn't want to hurt you,” I said quietly.

“I know.”

A heavy silence stretched between us, weighted by everything we were leaving behind.

He looked at me for another moment. “I’m going to miss what we had.”

“I know.”

“And I’m still not happy with this.”

“I know that, too.”

“I just wish things were simpler,” he admitted, his tone softening.

I nodded gently, offering no empty platitudes.

He met my gaze again, the initial irritation on his face yielding to quiet resignation. “I understand what you're saying.”

“Thank you, Khalid.”

“But I’m still annoyed,” he added, a faint, wry exhale escaping him.

Despite the seriousness of the encounter, a slight smile broke across my face. “I figured you would be.”

He gave me a long, tired look. “You're very blunt, you know that?”

“I've been told that once or twice.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes halfway as he settled
back against his pillow. “Go get some sleep,” he muttered.

“I probably will, but you need it far more than I do.”

“I do,” he sighed deeply. “And Deppgrl?”

I paused, turning back over my shoulder. “Yes?”

He lingered for a second before speaking. “Thank you for telling me directly.”

I gave him a warm nod. “You deserved to hear it straight from me.”

With that, I turned and walked back down the length of the aisle, leaving Khalid to the quiet solitude he needed.

When I reached my section of the plane, Armand, Roger, Joel, and Ronan were standing clustered in the aisle right beside my assigned seat. Their eyes tracked me as I approached, their posture radiating quiet vigilance and curiosity about how the conversation had unfolded.

I barely had a chance to sit down before Armand looked down at me, his eyes sharp and probing.

“Well?” he asked.

Roger stood with his arms crossed over his chest, inspecting my demeanor. “You've been gone a while.”

Joel leaned in slightly, his tone quiet and measured. “Is everything all right?”

Ronan cast a quick glance over my shoulder toward Khalid’s area before focusing back on me. “You two weren't arguing over there, were you?”

I shook my head calmly. “No. Nothing like that at all.”

Armand narrowed his eyes slightly, still suspicious. “Then what was it about?”

“We just had a pleasant conversation,” I replied smoothly, maintaining absolute composure. “We wished each other well and agreed that both of us need to get some rest if we can.”

Roger studied my face for a moment longer, looking for any subtle sign of stress, before giving a single nod. “That's it?”

“That's it.”

Joel smiled faintly, recognizing the boundary I was establishing. “Sounds simple enough.”

“It was,” I said with firm finality.

I offered no further details. Some matters belonged exclusively to the people involved, and my security detail didn't require an itinerary of my personal closures.

Armand recognized the subtle shift in my tone and nodded in understanding. “All right,” he said. “Then sit down and get some rest.”

I smiled up at him. “That was the plan.”

Ronan stepped back to give me space to settle in. “You look completely exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” I admitted freely.

“Then stop talking and go to sleep,” Ronan instructed with a dry smirk.

I laughed softly, letting my head rest back. “That's becoming a popular theme on this flight.”

“Probably because everyone on this aircraft is running on empty,” Joel noted, checking his watch.

I took one brief glance back toward Khalid. “Some more than others.”

The four men exchanged brief, amused looks, but respected the moment and let the conversation drop as a quiet calm settled over the cabin.

I sat down in the seat that I chose and Armand, Roger, Joel, and Ronan followed suit with their seats around me.

"Wake us if you need anything, ma'am," Roger murmured quietly as he settled into his chair.

"I will," I said softly.

“Finally,” I heard Armand whisper.

“Let her sleep,” Joel whispered back.

“I am.”

The cabin quickly became quiet again.

I closed my eyes and instantly fell asleep. It was a direct flight so it would be a 14 or so hour flight. I was so exhausted that I didn't even dream; my mind and body completely shut down the second my head hit the headrest.

A few hours into the flight, I woke up with a jolt.

"Whoa, you okay?" Joel asked softly from across the narrow aisle, instantly attuned to my sudden movement.

I opened my eyes, collected my thoughts, and remembered that we were flying home.

Joel leaned slightly toward the aisle. “Easy. You’re on the plane.”

“I know.”

“You looked like you forgot where you were.”

“I did for a second.”

“That happens after the kind of sleep you just had.”

Reaching for my phone, I checked the time and groaned quietly. "We still have about 11 hours left of the flight," I muttered.

"Get some more sleep if you can," Joel suggested gently.

"I'll try," I said.

I knew that I shouldn’t—for the safety of the plane and its equipment—but I texted Vic anyway.

Can you meet me at the airport in 11 ½ hours?

Yes

After texting him, I pulled up the contact for Charlotte—Ronan’s sister—so she could arrange transportation to meet her brother upon landing.

Hey Charlotte, can you swing by at the airport and be ready to pick Ronan up in 11 ½ hours?

I'll be there.

I locked my screen for a second, feeling a sense of relief. I knew that Armand, Roger, and Joel would be fine with their travels home. They had managed to sleep a little on the flight out to Bahrain, stayed hydrated and fed, slept well last night, and would sleep enough on the remainder of this flight back to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, to safely drive back to the
military base where they were stationed.

Deciding to check in on official business, I opened a new message to text Barb to see how everything was faring back at the office and the building.

Hey Barb, how is everything going at the office and the building?

Everything is going well here. The first day of security
in the hands of both Fred and Bobby went smoothly. Thankfully, everything is
under control and there haven’t been any issues.

Did we get any calls about the trip?

A large number of residents did call in regards of why you were in the Middle East again. I had the staff tell people that it was a last minute meeting and it didn’t fit in your schedule nor the king.

Great job handling that. Thanks, Barb.

Rest up, Marie. We have everything covered here.

I locked my phone and leaned back into my seat and was able to settle in with a book that Amber—the lead flight attendant—leant me when I boarded.

"Is that the Lincoln bio Amber had?" Ronan asked softly, glancing over from his seat as I unfolded the cover.

"It is," I nodded. "Should help pass a few hours."

"Enjoy," he smiled faintly. "Let me know if it's worth a read."

The book was about Abraham Lincoln... the US's sixteenth president. I don't know how Amber knew this about me, but it doesn't matter. It would help pass the time of part of the flight. Due to me being a voracious reader, I knew that this book wouldn't last too long in my hands.

The book started out with the birth and first few years of Mr. Lincoln's life. As most historical biographies of famous people, the book started slow, but because I have always respected Mr. Lincoln and his presidency, I persevered with the few slow chapters. By the time he was a teen, the book started grabbing my attention and I devoured the book in a matter of two and a half hours. Other people would've either given up so quickly due to how slow the book started or not even finished it after being halfway through it. Since I love history and enjoy learning and occasionally re-learning about Mr. Lincoln, it was an easy read.

Once I turned the final page, I closed the book, unbuckled my seatbelt, and walked down toward the galley to give Amber her book back and thank her for the loan.

“Here you go, Amber,” I said, handing the book back to her. “Thank you so much for lending it to me.”

Amber smiled warmly as she accepted the book back from me.
“You’re very welcome,” she said. “Over all my years as a flight attendant, I’ve learned that people who work in public service tend to be history buffs, read biographies on political figures, and tend to have political careers.”

I smiled, thanking her again. “Thanks again, Amber.”

Turning back toward my seat, I couldn't help but reflect on her words. Little did she know, there’s always politics when it comes to many—if not all—jobs, regardless of the field.

I sat back down at the seat that I chose. Once I sat down, I pulled out a few pens and a notebook and started writing.

Armand glanced over at my notebook with a subtle smirk. "Writing in code again, Prime Minister?"

"Always," I replied quietly, without pausing my pen. "Better safe than sorry."

"Can't argue with that logic," Armand agreed softly, settling back.

I wrote for hours about everything and anything, but in code. I prefer to protect my writing and what is in what I write.

Two hours and a significant hand cramp later, Amber came around with food for us. She brought around several meals for Armand, Roger, Joel, Ronan, and I. Since they were leftovers from yesterday, the airline wouldn't miss the food.

"Amber," I called softly as she passed my seat, "did Khalid eat?"

"Yes, he did," Amber told me with a reassuring nod. “King Hamad sent some halal food for Khalid.”

"That's good to hear," I murmured.

I gave her a grateful nod, feeling a quiet sense of relief.

After she left, I closed my eyes. Minutes later, I was fast asleep. I slept for the rest of the flight.

When we landed, I woke up, grabbed my toiletry bag and headed to the bathroom so I could brush my teeth. When I finished up, I stuffed my toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash and hair brush back into my toiletry bag and headed back to my seat to gather my things. I shoved my toiletry bag into my carry-on bag, threw my crossbody purse over my shoulders, made sure I had all of my passports and phones with me—which, thankfully, I did—and disembarked the plane onto the tarmac.

"Go ahead through Customs ahead of me, guys," I said to the team as we walked inside the terminal area. "I'll be right behind you."

"We'll wait for you on the other side," Armand replied.

Armand, Roger, Joel and Ronan went through Customs without me but were waiting for me. Of course, I went through without an issue.

Once clear of the checkpoint, Armand, Roger, Joel and I said goodbye to each other there.

"You three did an exceptional job on this trip," I said warmly to them. "Enjoy a few days off with your families before returning to the office."

"Are you sure, ma'am?" Roger asked. "We can cover your transition back."

"I'm sure," I smiled firmly. "Go home and rest."

"Thank you, Prime Minister," Joel said, nodding respectfully.

Just then, Charlotte came walking up to pick up her surprised and exhausted brother, Ronan.

"Ronan!" Charlotte called out, stepping up with a warm smile.

Ronan blinked, looking completely thrown off. "Lottie? What are you doing here?"

"Picking you up, of course," she chuckled, giving him a quick hug.

I turned to Ronan and smiled. "Take a few days off as well, Ronan. You've earned it."

"Thank you, Marie," Ronan said with a tired sigh of relief.

The four men and Charlotte were still waiting with me.

Charlotte looked at me. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Ronan nodded. “She’s fine.”

I looked at him. “You’re supposed to be leaving.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Really, it’s ok to leave. I’m safe,” I said. “My ride is a few minutes away. He tends to be on the late side especially when getting a new vehicle.”

Lottie looked around the tarmac entrance, then turned to me. She was just about to open her mouth to question me—asking why I was waiting around instead of leaving with them—when Vic came driving up to where we were on the tarmac.

Armand turned to me, raised an eyebrow and looked at me as if to say: “Seriously, ma’am?”

"Looks like your real ride is here," Roger noted with a dry laugh.

"Have a good few days’ rest, everyone," I said with a smile as I headed toward the vehicle that replaced the one that had blown up after our ascent into the air just over thirty hours ago. “I’ll head to the office sometime midmorning tomorrow.”

I waved to them as I opened the back door to throw my carry-on back onto the back seat and headed up to the front passenger seat where Vic was waiting for me with the door open. He smiled and bent down to kiss me. I welcomed the kiss and broke away a few minutes later.

“Marie!” Khalid called out. “Don’t forget the food!”

I facepalmed myself and headed back to the plane. At first, the Customs agents didn’t want to allow me back to the plane but with a raised eyebrow, they allowed me to grab the bags from Khalid.

“Thank you, Khalid,” I said. “I can’t believe that I forgot. I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he said. “See you te next time you’re around.”

I nodded and headed back to Vic. I was going to miss what Khalid and I had but it needed to happen. Word was getting around the palaces that Khalid was falling for me. Whether this was true or not didn’t matter to me but neither one of us needed to deal with the rumors.

“Let’s head to the office, “ I said when I got back to Vic. “My personal car is there and I would like it at my house rather than this monstrosity of a vehicle.”

“Of course, Deppgrl,” Vic said as he helped me into the monster sized SUV. “You’ll certainly stick out like a sore thumb in your neighborhood with this vehicle parked in your miniscule driveway.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I got into the vehicle. I know that this is the size of the vehicle that I picked out and had safety features installed into it. I chuckled as I put on my seatbelt about my driveway. It’s the biggest one on my cul-de-sac but it would truly look miniscule with this large vehicle. Though my neighborhood knew that I’m the PM but they also know that I prefer to drive to work in my personal vehicle and be followed by one vehicle – if traveling by road from the office, then I’d use this vehicle.

After several quiet minutes, Vic finally glanced over. “You don’t want to talk?”

“I have plenty to say.”

“But?”

“I’m exhausted.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. We can talk when you’re ready.”

Vic and I didn’t talk much on the drive to my house. Last time we saw each other a few weeks ago, I told him that I didn’t want to see him again. It was a bit of an awkward drive to the office but it was ok as it gave me time to reply to personal and professional emails and texts. The one email surprised me the most. It was from who is – essentially – my boss; King
Charles III.

I cannot thank you enough for your tireless efforts during your long tour of the Middle East. The resilience and strategic acumen you demonstrated in navigating such complex diplomatic landscapes have not gone unnoticed by the crown. Your ability to secure vital partnerships under immense pressure exemplifies the absolute highest standard of service to our nation.

King Charles III

I rubbed my temples, took a long, steady breath, and began typing my response back to the king:

 Your Majesty,

 I am deeply humbled and profoundly honored that you would take the time out of your demanding schedule to reach out to me personally. To know that my efforts in the Middle East have met with your approval is the highest reward I could ask for. While the relentless pace of the itinerary—spanning multiple capitals, sudden operational shifts, and barely enough time to catch my breath back in Canada before heading back out—has certainly tested my physical and mental endurance, knowing that the mission succeeded makes every exhausting mile entirely worthwhile.

Deppgrl Smith
Canadian PM

Little did he know that I was actually in New Zealand, Russia, Italy and finally back home in Canada while it was my doppelgänger in the Middle East.

Vic was quiet for a moment. “There’s a lot more to this trip than anyone outside your staff knows, isn’t there?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Eventually.”

He nodded. “That’s enough for now.”

Neither my staff nor myself would share this with the king. We all knew that I’d lose my job as the PM and the less that the king and his personal staff knew, the better and safer it was for me to be the PM.

By the time that I had put my phone back in my pocket, Vic had pulled into the parking lot of the PMO building.