Three years. Two words. One promise.
Kamala and Grace meet again, but the circumstances around them have changed slightly. Will Grace remain only her marketing manager from now on, or will she become something more to Kamala?
Hi everyone! This is the continuation of my story, Book Tour. If you haven't read the first part yet, I recommend starting there. And to those who have been eagerly waiting for the second book — I hope you enjoy it!
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2028
I was washing dishes in the kitchen, the TV was on as background noise. On the stove, the soup I was cooking was bubbling. The whole house smelled wonderful. I was quietly humming as I washed the last plate, dried it, and put it back in its place. Today was a day off from my job as a marketing manager at a London agency. I felt like I really needed it—so much has happened in my life recently: moving, getting engaged, and adopting a dog. Crazy.
I glanced at the soup on the stove when a familiar voice from the TV caught my ear. I turned around for just a moment. It was about Kamala Harris and the upcoming election in America. I hadn't thought about her for a long time; I had liked to leave her in the past. But now, thanks to the stupid news, she was in my head again. I turned off the TV and went back to what I was doing. Yet my thoughts wouldn't leave her alone. It had been almost three years since I last saw her. Three years since I had run away so terribly, choosing myself and building a new life here in London. I couldn't allow myself to think about her because the guilt always churned inside me, even after all these years. Her painful gaze as she looked into my eyes for the last time was still in front of me.
The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. "Hey, honey!" I heard Rebecca's voice. "You're home early!" I shouted from the kitchen. "I postponed my last class." She walked into the kitchen. Rebecca taught Film and Media Studies at University College London. It had been two weeks since she proposed to me on our holiday in Spain, and since then we had already moved in together and got a dog—a Labrador named Milo. "What? Did you get tired of teaching?" I asked, a teasing smile on my face, but she didn't smile. "What's wrong?" "I need to talk to you about something." "You're starting to scare me..." I said, looking at her seriously. "I got a job in America," she said and I couldn't say a word to her. "I would be working on a film for six months." "What?" "But I won't take it if you don't want me to." "Are you kidding me?" I rushed over to her. "This is huge news! This is your dream." "I know," she said, smiling. I took a deep breath and pulled her into a hug. "But six months... that would feel like forever without you." "I could go with you," I suggested. "You? To America?" she raised her eyebrows. "You always say how much you hate that place." "I hate it. But with you, it would be different." "And your job?" "I'd quit," I shrugged. "I wouldn't allow that. Don't quit because of me." "But it's worth it because of you." "No, Grace," she said, looking at me more seriously. "You can't quit." "Then what should I do?" "What if... we visited each other every month?" "Every month?" I raised an eyebrow. "There's no way I could see you that little. And it would cost a fortune." "You're right..." she sighed. "I'll quit." "But, Grace—" "Don't... I've made up my mind, and that's it." "Are you sure about this?" "Completely." I smiled at her and kissed her. "And what's the film about?" I asked after we parted, my heart still racing. "It's a lesbian movie. But I can't tell you more than that—it's top secret," she said with a teasing smile. "Oh, so we have secrets now?" I leaned closer and grabbed her waist. She let out a cute little laugh. She tried to look serious, but the smile betrayed her. "Maybe," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You'll just have to earn the clearance." I shook my head softly, still holding her close. "Dangerous game," I murmured. She stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel her warmth, and whispered, "You like danger." Then she laughed again, light and bright, slipping out of my arms and going to the kitchen. "What are those amazing smells?" "I'm making soup." I followed her. "Mmm, it looks great." she glanced at the bubbling pot. "What would I do without you and your perfect cooking?" She looked back at me with the same mischievous smile. "I think..." I stepped closer to her. "You'd starve to death." I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to me again. "So you're saying I wouldn't be able to cook?" "I'm sure you could... but it wouldn't be nearly as good as mine." I smiled. "Is that a challenge?" I saw the spark in her eyes. Still, a strange feeling washed over me — a sense of déjà vu, as if this conversation had already happened before. "It is." I replied instantly and kissed her. This time, we didn't pull away from each other for a while.
