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Kamala sat at her desk in the quiet late hours of the night. Her Senate office was almost empty, with the busy life of Washington, D.C. outside her window looking totally different from the stillness inside. The city's lights reflected off the glass making faint shadows in the room as she stared out, deep in thought. The day's weight still pressed on her, but her mind wandered elsewhere.
Her gaze stayed on the distant skyline and the movement of cars below was barely noticeable from this height. The office's quiet was only broken by the occasional click of her pen as she tried to make sense of the growing uncertainty inside her. Work was supposed to be her escape, but lately it felt like nothing was enough to quiet the confusion swirling in her heart.
Cory Booker had been a close friend for years. But recently something changed. The long hours spent together, their shared moments in meetings, their late-night talk. It all felt different now. She couldn't quite place it, but she knew there was something unspoken between them. Something more. And though she tried to push it aside it lingered at the edges of her mind.
But it wasn't just Cory. Her thoughts often wandered to Barack Obama. Their connection, their shared history the undeniable bond that had always been more than just professional. Kamala had respected Barack for as long as she could remember admired him in ways that went beyond politics. But there was always something deeper something that neither of them had ever acknowledged out loud. The tension between them was subtle, but it was there always present.
Kamala sighed trying to focus. She took a long sip of her coffee hoping the bitter taste would sharpen her senses. The mountains of work in front of her, the emails, the bills, the constant pressur none of it seemed to matter as much as what was swirling in her mind. She knew what she had to do. But deep down, there was a voice urging her to ask herself what she truly wanted beyond her career and the expectations of others.
With one last look at the city lights, Kamala turned her attention back to the desk. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard trying to force herself to concentrate. But her thoughts kept drifting back to Cory, to Barack, until a small ping interrupted her.
A new email notification flashed on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the subject line.
New Message – Barack Obama
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bro don't come at me i don't know how to write fr that's why it took me 2 years to actually do this book 💔
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