"The C.I.A. Lover" | Memoir | Part VI of VI | Secretarial Diaries

Please don’t judge me for channeling my inner American singer-songwriter, Taylor Swift, who sings about her past relationships. Can we make that a promise? Just like her, I’ll give you a glimpse into my love story with a mysterious Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) agent.
 
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Keep in mind that I reside in the heart of Washington, D.C., where secrets thrive. This city is a hub of intrigue, power, and scandalous affairs. Our clandestine relationship added another layer of complexity to the already existing web of private affairs in D.C.
 
I’ll try my best to avoid using spy jargon, but I can’t make any guarantees.
 
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His name was Raphael, my clandestine lover.
 
Raphael and I met “In the booth, in the back, in the corner, in the dark!” I couldn’t resist quoting the late American comedian Flip Wilson’s famous catchphrase. It perfectly captures the essence of our story.
 
We both worked for the same government agency, but Raphael operated under deep cover. To our colleagues, it seemed like he was just another member of our team.
 
We exchanged coded text messages during work hours, planning our rendezvous once our day ended.
 
No one suspected that we were more than just colleagues.
 
Raphael and I decided to meet discreetly for dinner, often. Our mission was to connect at a restaurant, arriving separately in our cars. In case our cover was blown.
 
At his residence, the safe house, my Victoria’s Secret lingerie was reserved for his eyes only.
 
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Engaging in a romantic relationship with an individual from the CIA was an enthralling experience.
 
Don’t worry, I wasn’t playing the role of a femme fatale.
 
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In due course, our clandestine romance was unveiled to our colleagues. The conspicuousness of Raphael’s regular appearances in my office, whisking me away for lunch, and his unwavering presence in my vicinity at work, all while we commuted together to and from the office building, ignited suspicion among our colleagues.
 
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He presented me with a charming diamond ring along with other beautiful pieces of jewelry, leading me to believe our relationship was heading toward something more serious, perhaps even marriage. However, things didn’t develop into anything enduring. So, when the chance to work overseas came up, I packed my belongings and embarked on a new adventure!
 
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I won’t lie, leaving Raphael behind wasn’t easy. There were nights I’d been lying awake in a foreign city, wondering if he was thinking of me too, or if he’d already buried our chapter beneath another covert assignment. But I had learned something vital: when you love a man who lives in the shadows, you must be prepared to walk alone in the light.
 
Still, I carried pieces of him with me. A silk scarf he once tied around my eyes during a weekend escape to the Shenandoah. A playlist he curated, jazz, soul, and a few unexpected country ballads. And of course, the diamond ring, tucked away in a velvet box, never worn, but never discarded.
 
I threw myself into my new role abroad, determined to reclaim my narrative. I wasn’t just the woman who loved a spy. I was a woman who had lived, who had dared, who had secrets of her own. And maybe, just maybe, I’d write about it one day.
 
So here we are.
 
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(Copyright © 2025 by Mia Z. Edwards. All rights reserved.)