All That Could Be Lost

Statement Twenty-two

Kamala set the towel down. “Good. Because I don’t want to talk about any of that.” She leaned against the counter, watching Kerry’s profile. “I just want to be here. With you.”

Kerry sighed, her shoulders slumping. She stared into the cloudy water, the soap clinging to her wrists.

Kamala dried her hands quickly and stepped closer. She slid her arms around Kerry’s waist from behind, resting her cheek against Kerry’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, baby? You’ve been off for a while.”

“It’s nothing,” Kerry whispered, but her voice betrayed her, trembling.

Kamala pressed her closer. “Hey. You can trust me. You can always trust me.”

A single tear escaped, trailing down Kerry’s cheek. Her voice cracked. “I saw the draft.”

Kamala stilled. Her breath hitched against Kerry’s neck. “You… did?”

Kerry nodded, not turning around. “If you’re going to leave again… just let me have this last moment.”

Kamala gently spun her around, eyes glistening. “No. Listen to me.” Her voice broke as she cupped Kerry’s face. “I wrote that draft years ago. The first time I left. But I never made it public. I couldn’t.”

“Really?” Kerry whispered, searching her face desperately.

“Yes.” Kamala’s tears fell freely now. “Years ago I made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go. I won’t make it again.” She touched Kerry’s face as though memorizing it, brushing her thumb across her cheekbone. “Your eyes… so clear and full of light. Your mouth, soft, and every word you speak matters. The way you fight for the people you love, Kerry, it humbles me. You are everything gentle and fierce at once. And somehow…” her voice broke, “somehow, you love me. After everything. You still love me.”

Kerry’s lips trembled as more tears poured down.

“I will never deny you,” Kamala whispered fiercely. “The only time we’ll be separated is if I’m not here anymore. That’s the only way.”

Kerry collapsed into her arms, clutching her desperately. “I was so scared,” she sobbed. “So scared of losing you. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Kamala held her tighter, her own tears wetting Kerry’s hair. “I can’t either. I love you. I love you so much.”

Kerry kissed her then, with everything she had, pouring all her fear and devotion into it. Kamala kissed her back with the same fire, their tears mingling, both of them holding on as if letting go would mean the end of everything.

♧♧♧

The water had gone lukewarm, soft ripples sloshing against porcelain as Kerry leaned back against the tub, eyes half-closed, damp curls clinging to her temples. Kamala’s fingers traced lazy patterns along Kerry’s thigh, earning a sharp squeal.

“Kamala!” Kerry gasped, splashing water as she tried to wriggle away.

Kamala only grinned, wickedly persistent. “What? I like seeing you laugh.”

Kerry caught her hand and pulled her forward, silencing her with a kiss, the kind of kiss that carried years of ache and devotion. When she pulled back, her forehead rested against Kamala’s. Their legs tangled under the water, skin slipping against skin.

“How’d you even find the draft?” Kamala murmured, her voice softer now, a shadow crossing her face.

Kerry hesitated, then admitted, “Clayton sent it to me.”

“Oh.” A simple syllable, heavy with a hundred unspoken questions. Kamala sank further into the water, lips pursed.

Kerry reached for her hand under the surface, squeezed. “The call was too short to trace it. I know you were already thinking that.”

Kamala’s brow furrowed, but her lips curved faintly, wry. “Of course you covered the protocols.”

Silence draped over them, broken only by the occasional drip from the faucet. Kamala shifted, stretching her leg until it slid against Kerry’s, and rested her head back.

Kerry finally broke the quiet. “Are you going to run? For president?”

Kamala let out a breath that stirred the steam above the water. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Why?” Kerry’s voice was gentle, but searching.

Kamala tilted her head, eyes finding Kerry’s. “Because today… today I realized. Cleaning the kitchen with you, cooking with you, no cameras, no eyes on us. Just us. I want that. I want to hold your hand in public without it being a headline. I want to kiss you drunk on the sidewalk and not care who sees. I want to be free.”

Kerry’s throat worked, her eyes dark and unreadable. “But the people need you.”

Kamala smiled faintly, sad but certain. “I can’t ask you to wait eight years. That isn’t fair.”

Kerry shook her head, water dripping down her cheek. “I’ll wait a lifetime. But right now… right now, they need you more.”

Kamala’s chest tightened. She whispered, “I don’t want you to wait. If they can’t accept me, all of me, then they don’t get me. I’m done putting everyone else before myself.”

Kerry stared at her, wide-eyed, breath caught, and then leaned in to kiss her. It wasn’t gentle, it was steady, claiming. When she pulled back, her lips brushed Kamala’s ear, her voice low and trembling but resolute.

“And so it shall be.”