“No problem,” Alexa says, grabbing her belongings and nodding for the rest of the team to follow suit. “You can have the room. We’ll check back in a bit.” She shoots me a quick, assessing look, then heads out with the others.
We’re silent for a moment, then Shake sighs.
“You haven’t filed them yet,” he says. “You told Alexa you haven’t filed the papers yet. I hadn’t been sure before now. I hadn’t wanted to ask you about it.” He pauses. “Maybe because I already knew.”
Just minutes ago, I’d been so sure that I’d leave this meeting and go straight to my lawyer. That I’d hand over the papers and walk away, but just the thought of it hurts. Not a sharp, pricking pain, but a dull ache. One that I’ve felt for a while, always hovering beneath the surface.
“You’re still in love with him,” Shake says, and I meet his gaze.
His eyes are clear, his voice calm. But he’s preternaturally still, as if it’s taking all of his effort to make sure he gives nothing away.
“I am,” I say, and somehow, though my blood is racing, my voice comes out sounding just as calm as his.
He nods. “And you want to run in Texas?”
“I do.”
He turns toward me, the first cracks in his veneer showing. There’s some anger, some frustration, but there’s something else too. It’s almost like there’s no fight left in him. Almost like…he’s resigned.
“If you were sure about Texas,” he says, “if it had nothing to do with him, nothing would have to change. We could still campaign together. But if you’re saying you want to go back to him—” He stops, shaking his head. “You always told me how alone you felt when you were with him. How there were parts of him you felt like you never really knew. That he never reallyletyou know. How would—how would going back to Houston fix things? How would that change anything?”
My mouth opens, but I don’t have an answer for him. Nikhil’s different now. We both are. That day we signed the papers, he’d recognized that he’d pushed me away. I’d always thought it was because he didn’t see me as a real partner, that he didn’t think I was capable or strong or competent enough to be there for him the same way he always was for me, but it wasn’t that. He’d thought he’d had to prove something to me. My keeping him a secret had made him think that. I’d hidden him, hidden both of us, from my parents. I knew they’d have judged us, judged what we had, and found it lacking, and I hadn’t wanted that to happen. I hadn’t wanted to bring something so special before them only to watch it crumble.
But I’d made the wrong choice, because hiding him had hurt him so much more.
“He’s still that guy, Meena,” Shake continues. “The one who set your career back, who wasn’t there for you when you needed him to be.” He places his hand on mine, his touch light and gentle. “These feelings that you have…they’ll fade. We’ve built something better than that, something that’s so much more stable. And we’re so close to announcing, so close to everything we’ve been working for. So close to actually trying to make this work. There’s no reason to throw all of that away.”
I swallow, my throat uncomfortably tight. I can see the exact future Shake is talking about. A life, a career, a marriage together.
A future with him makes sense, and walking away from all of it would come with consequences. I don’t know what happens with the advisory team if Shake and I aren’t a package deal. I could be slamming the door shut on my political future.
And it doesn’t help that my family’s met him. That my parents love him. That they’ve been hoping the two of us would take the next step sometime soon. If I walk away, how could I tell them that those hopes are never coming true?
What do you want, Meena?
Nikhil’s voice pops back in my head, filling me with longing.I don’t know,I’d tell him. And I can just imagine his response. The sad shake of his head. The small, knowing smile.
You,I’d finally say. Iwant you.
But it’s too late for that. The voice in my mind must think so too, because it goes quiet. Nikhil doesn’t say a thing. Though I suppose the papers he signed speak for themselves. He doesn’t want me. Not anymore.
But does that mean I stay with Shake? All the things that drew me to our relationship—the shared ambition and drive, our easy friendship, the fact that he wasnot Nikhil,that he would never makeme feel the way I did when I was with Nikhil—none of that feels like enough anymore.
Shake deserves more than I can offer him. And even if I can’t have Nikhil, I deserve more than this too.
“I can’t,” I tell Shake. “I wish I could. You deserve that. You deserve to run for the seat, to get back into politics, and you deserve a partner who’ll stand by you and help you achieve all of that and more. But I can’t be that person. I can’t.”
Shake pulls back, his mouth setting into a firm, thin line.
“I think you’re making a mistake,” he says. “This, our relationship, the way we are together, itworks. We’re not going to find this again.” A small note of desperation creeps into his voice. “I’mnot going to find this again. I’m not going to find someone who…who gets me like this. Who would be content with what we have. Who would understand the kind of love we have for each other. Because I do, Meena. I love you.”
“I know,” I say, because I hear the lowercaselin that word. I hear the years of friendship and support and companionship in that word. I hear everything I was once afraid of losing. I hear what could have been enough if I hadn’t known something more. “I love you too. And I…I just want you to be happy.”
His eyes flash, something flickering across his face. “Maybe we don’t all get to be happy.” And I know what he means. There aren’t any guarantees. He may not meet someone else to run for office with, he may open himself up to love again but not find it, or even if he does, it could all end in heartbreak again.
“Maybe,” I say, thinking about Nikhil saying that I was right, that our marriage needs to be over. There aren’t any guarantees thatwe get a second chance. I don’t know if he’d be open to it, orifit would work. I don’t know how any of this will turn out.“Butmaybe,” I tell Shake, “maybe we owe it to ourselves to at least try.”
Shake watches me for a long moment. Disapproval, even a touch of concern, still lingers on his face, but he doesn’t voice any of that when we say our goodbyes.
