No trying to primary her in four years.
Elliot balances Shae right across the board, in nearly all demographics. He’s now perfectly positioned for his own run after Shae’s two terms are up, providing she’s re-elected.
Then again, there’s still time for Elliot to make that decision. At least four years before Elliot has to start signaling his intentions, and six before he needs to nut up or shut up and form an exploratory committee of his own.
A lot can happen in six years.
Including him possibly de-assing his head.
If I’m that lucky.
I damn sure hope I’m that lucky.
There’s always the possibility that I could simply walk away from it all, go back to work in the private sector, and take Jordan with me.
There’s something to be said about a quiet life.
We could live a relatively anonymous existence away from the harsh spotlight of DC national politics. I could take care of my boy and nurture his gentle, creative spirit, maybe even secure him a loan for his own design business. Support him.
Except if I do that without giving Elliot a chance to figure out what the hell he wants to do with the rest of his life outside of an elected office, I know I’d always be wonderingwhat if?
I would also kick myself in the ass while watching from the sidelines for any missteps Elliot makes, personally or professionally. Because I’d always think that, had I been by his side—seen or unseen—maybe he wouldn’t have made those missteps.
I’d feel guilty that I abandoned my boy.
Myotherboy.
Myfirstboy.
Well, not first-first, but you get my drift. Elliot was there before Jordan.
Mypet.
“You’re right,” I admit. “Jordan has to come first.” Because Elliot might be a train wreck, but he is strong and has survived a shit-ton of stuff in his life, metaphorically and literally.
But not Jordan. He’s gentle and wide-eyed, sweet, and completely the polar opposite of the kind of creature one needs to be to survive in DC.
An innocent.
He’s not like me.
Not at all.
That’s one of the many reasons I love him so damned much.
Because with him in my bed, there’s part of me who thinks maybe I’m not some cold, callous, heartless asshole after all.
If I can live up to a mere fraction of the adoration I see reflected back at me in Jordan’s eyes, maybe it means I’m not totally evil.
Right?
Elliot isn’t an idiot, and he’s not some contemptible doofus, either. He’s a damned survivor, he’s brilliant, and he’s horrible at never giving himself enough credit.
During those all-too-rare moments, when we’re together and everything’s right, he makes me feel like I’m smart, like I’m the center of his world.
When he’s not terrified of the rest of the world finding out about us, that is.
I really want to be greedy and have both of them. I think, together, the three of us could kick ass. I think Jordan could help soothe Elliot’s nerves the way Jordan calms and soothes me. I’d be the Chris of our triad, and Elliot could be…well, Elliot.
