Here I am, the closest person to Elliot in his life, and I might as well be on the fricking moon.
I honestly feel a little sick right now. My throat goes dry. This was never a problem when I worked PPD, because I wasn’t personally vested in the candidate.
“Next stop, November.” Kev claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Man, what a wild ride.”
“I survived a plane crash—wild rides are subjective.” I suck in a deep breath and force a smile. This is supposed to be a celebration, not my heart being publicly stomped while I watch the love of my life get swept further from my grasp by the realization of his life’s dream. “Final grind ahead,” I say.
“Yep. She’s got this.”
I fist bump with him. “Yeah, she does.” I nudge him with my elbow and force another smile, hoping he doesn’t realize how much agony I’m currently in. “You miss your old gig?”
Kev shakes his head. He’s a great guy, although I’m starting to wish he wasn’t as good as he is at his job as Shae’s campaign manager. “Nope, I get it now why this is addictive. It’s like fighting in a video game where you can’t die for real, but you get an adrenaline hit when you win. You miss your old gig?”
I snort while defaulting to a lie. “No. This ismucheasier, and still exciting.” I point to one Secret Service agent standing backstage with us. I worked with this guy. He’d been in PPD maybe three months when my crash happened. “They get to do the heavy lifting. Besides, we’re making history. Whowouldn’twant to be part of this?”
Besides me, I mean.
Sneaking in time with Elliot gets more difficult the closer we get to Election Day in November, to the point I barely recognize myself, at times.
I’m not sleeping, barely eating. Mostly because I can see what this is doing to Elliot, and I feel shittier when he won’t let me spend time with him and make him feel better.
Could I order him to let me spend time with him?
Yes, but again, in the long run, that’s neither healthy nor a recipe for success. It’ll only stress him out even more if he’s not in a mental place for it.
I watch Kev watching Shae give her acceptance speech. I practically know it by heart because I helped her practice. He looks damned proud of her, and rightfully so.
In some ways, we share secrets. He and Chris have loved each other for twenty years, even though they were separated for most of that time. Kev had to watch the man he loves marry a woman, and, publicly, Kev can’t claim either of them.
It’s the life they’ve chosen for themselves, and Kev loves both of them. Maybe the situation is easier for him because he rarely spends a night alone. He’s either with Shae, or with Chris, or, sometimes, both.
Plus, the three of them love each other. No one’s left out.
One of my duties is providing cover for the three of them. So far, so good. If only I could convince Elliot to release his fears.
I suppose I’d hoped that, after the election, he’d dig deep, find bravery within him, and ask me to be with him. Openly or not.
Unfortunately, the closer we get to the election, the more I realize that won’t happen. It might noteverhappen.
Am I prepared to spend the rest of my life in the shadows, forced to accept nothing but emotional scraps from the guy I love?
I don’t know.
For now, my love outweighs my loneliness. Probably makes me a dumbass, too.
If anyone else told me this story, I’d be tempted to smack them upside the head and ask why they were holding out for someone who obviously wasn’t ever going to commit to them.
Except it’s Elliot, and I know my boy’s heart and soul.
Maybe I can help him overcome his fear. I’d hate myself if I walked away and he met someone else and went on to find happiness with them.
One of the things I’d wanted to avoid when I first met Elliot was drama.
Wish granted, although in an ironic “monkey’s paw” sort of way. I have the exact opposite of drama with him.
Once that’s over and the four of us, minus Kev, are alone in the sitting area of the backstage dressing room Shae and Elliot were assigned, I watch Elliot.
He won’t meet my gaze.
