I haven’t felt this way in a long time, this steady, humbling shame that I don’t deserve the woman sitting in front of me. She’s simply… magnificent. Andrea looks at the world and sees responsibility where others see excuses, possibilities where others see limits. Her goodness isn’t loud or performative, but instinctive, bottomless, and uncompromising. The kind that makes you want to be better just by standing close to it. She’s too good for anyone, really, not just for me. But I’m not letting her go, so it’s up to me to rise to her level.
“I like all that,” I say, almost shaken by this new perception of things. “I like that a lot.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“You think it could be enough?”
“I think it could be much more than I can handle. But it’s a flawless, selfless, and perfect purpose.”
“I meant… won’t you miss the thrill of being Nammota?”
“It was never about that. It was about boredom, depression, and maybe some self-sabotaging tendencies. But I get the feeling our boring little life won’t bore me that much.”
She smiles at that, first genuinely, then impishly. “I’ll keep you entertained, baby. Keep you on your toes.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“And I’m happy to help if you ever need support with your new life purpose.”
“Oh, we’re doing this together. A side hustle.”
“Hustles are supposed to earn you money, not make you spend it,” she laughs.
“We’ll make money. We’ll make billions, so we can help even more people.”
“That’s the spirit, Coleman.”
Feeling like an entirely new person, I bend down to kiss her, unleashing on her all the excitement and trepidation she caused.
“Who knew Nammota 2.0 would be Alexander Coleman, the philanthropist?” I say against her lips.
“My God… Unhand me, I have to return to work,” Andrea giggles, pulling away.
“Right. I’ll get to work, too,” I decide, returning to my chair. “I’ll write our manifesto.”
She lets out a shocked breath. “You realize it’ll be very hard to do all thatandKelex, right?”
“Hmm… Right. Let’s not tell Kevin right away. He’ll be mad about the three offices.”
She giggles with a shake of her head. In the corner of my eye, I see her get up and come on my side of the desk to rest her perfect ass on the side of it. When I look at her, she says, “Let’s take baby steps first, test the waters, see how it all works. And little by little, you’ll become Alexander Coleman, the philanthropist.”
“I’ll be Alexander Walker by then. I can make that work. Walker, walk, walking… There’s a slogan somewhere in there.”
I only vaguely hear Andrea mumble, “I’ve created a monster.” Then she makes little sense about nobody wanting to see Marshall anymore and chopped liver or something. But I’m too focused to pay attention.
“Whoever drove the truck that killed Becker, maybe they should be on top of our philanthropic agenda,” I suggest.
Andrea laughs and lays a hand on my jaw, forcing me to look at her again. “The dark side constantly pulls you toward it, doesn’t it?”
I rest my hands on her hips. “Why do you think I want you in my life? You’re constantly pulling me toward the light, Andrea. Youaremy light. My purpose, my reason to live, my ultimate goal.”
“Me and philanthropy.” God, she’s so pretty when she smirks like this.
“No, you. Just you. That other thing, it’s on you. You’re my voice of reason.”
“But I’m not,” she says softly. “All I do is love you, baby. You’re the one doing everything else.”
