Get Free - Lana Del Rey
1:03 âââ¬ââââ 5:34
â ââ 10 â¹â¹ â»
New York â Your Apartment
Kamala stayed the night. You don't even know how it happened, but it just did. You let her stay over.
The next morning, you wake up to the sound of rain against the window. For a moment, the weight in your chest is gone, replaced with something quiet. Something almost peaceful.
Then you rememberâKamala is here.
And everything crashes back in.
You turn over, half-expecting to find the bed empty. To find that she did what she always doesâleft before she could change her mind.
But sheâs still there. The first thing that come up to mind is the fact that secret service is either freaking out, or standing outside your doors since Kamala basicly ran away with barely any security like a teenage girl.
Sitting up against the headboard, arms resting on her tights, looking like she hasnât slept at all. Like sheâs been keeping watch, making sure this is real.
Her eyes meet yours, cautious. Hopeful even.
"You didnât leave," you whisper, forcing a gentle smile. You wanted to be happy, to actually believe everything will be fine, but right now it was just too much.
A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes her. "You think I could?"
You sit up, pulling the sheets around you. The air between you is charged, the weight of the last evening still settling.
"Kamala, Iâ"
She cuts you off gently. "I know."
She shifts, facing you fully, fingers ghosting over your hand. She doesnât grab it, doesnât push. Just waits.
"You need to understand something," she says, voice steadier now. "This isnât me coming back just to leave again. This isnât me asking you to wait in the shadows. I donât want to live my life like that anymore."
You study her, searching for cracks, for hesitation. But for once, thereâs none.
"Then what do you want? Kam, people will eat you alive. There is no way to make this a clean-kill."
Kamala exhales sharply, then she finally says it. The words that change everything.
"You. I want you." She responded, fully ignoring the rest of ur sentence.
Your breath catches.
"I donât have all the answers," she admits. "I donât know how to make this easy, or clean, or safe. And its probably impossible to make it like that. But I know that I love you. I know that I want to fight for this. For you."
She reaches for you then, fingers curling around yours, holding on like sheâs afraid to lose her grip.
You let out a shaky breath, squeezing back. "I donât know if I can go through it again, Kamala. The hiding. The press. The way it all justâ" You stop, throat tightening.
She nods. "Then we wonât."
You blink, surprised. "What?"
Kamala takes a breath, like sheâs bracing herself. "No more secrets. No more pretending. If I do this, I do it all the way. I donât want to love you in the dark anymore."
The weight of her words sinks in.
Sheâs choosing this. Fully. Publicly.
Choosing you.
"You realize what that means, right?" you say, watching her carefully. "The headlines? The backlash? The risks? Like I said, this won't be a clean-kill."
Kamala gives you a small, tired smile. "Let them talk."
The dam inside you finally breaks. You exhale shakily, then pull her forward, kissing her like sheâs the only thing keeping you tethered to this world.
She kisses back like sheâs found something worth losing everything for.
Washington, D.C. â The Press Conference
The briefing room is packed. Cameras flash. Journalists murmur, already sensing something big.
Kamala stands at the podium, heart pounding.
Doug is at the back of the room, arms crossed, nodding slightly. A silent Iâm with you. He knew the effects this would have on their life, but he didnt care anymore. Because he knew this was the right thing to do.
She clears her throat. "Iâd like to begin by addressing recent eventsâspecifically, the rumors surrounding my personal life. Yes- Including the ones Senator Diana Reed released."
The room goes still.
"I have spent my career fighting for transparency, for honesty. And it would be hypocritical of me to ask the American people for their trust while keeping parts of my own life hidden. I could be untransparent, and lie but I refuse to do that. And im sorry I had to keep this hidden for so long. I understand how odd this will sound, so althought this won't be easy I ask for atleast the tinniest bit of understanding from you all."
A deep breath. Thenâ
"There is someone I love. Someone I have loved for a long time- and it is not Doug. And I refuse to let fear dictate how I live that love anymore. To put it clearly, me and Doug still love each other dearly, there aren't just any romantic feelings involved."
Gasps. Murmurs. The flood of flashing cameras.
But Kamala doesnât flinch.
She looks directly at the press, steady and unshaken. "I am not ashamed of who I love. And I will not apologize for it. So I do hope that clears some of the missinfortmation up."
The room explodes into questions, chaos. But Kamala?
She just breathes.
And later, when she steps out of the White House and sees you waiting, the sunlight hitting your face just rightâshe knows.
For the first time in a long time, she made the right choice.
And this time, sheâs not letting go.