From the other side

Chapter 21

“I’ll be here.”

“And Mummy?” Lizzy added.

“Yes?”

“I’m proud of you.”

Kamala felt her heart catch.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Lizzy smiled. “I love you too. Always.”

Kamala was in the study, curled on the couch with a soft throw blanket over her lap and reading glasses perched on her nose. She had her laptop open, a dozen highlighted notecards spread out on the coffee table, and a mug of lukewarm tea forgotten beside her. The sunlight had settled gently through the windows, warming the wooden floor as her fingers hovered above the keyboard.

She was no longer Vice President. But invitations still came—commencements, forums, memorials. This one was for a civic leadership event at Berkeley, and she wanted to get it right. Her speech wasn’t about policy this time. It was about presence, resilience, and roots.

She was mid-sentence—rewriting a line about the power of local activism—when her phone buzzed next to her.

Douglas calling.

She smiled without realizing it, tugged off her glasses, and answered.

“Hey,” she said, her voice quiet with warmth.

“Hi, you,” came his voice—clear, steady, like home. “I’m on break. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

That stopped her for a moment. She leaned back against the couch, her heart melting just slightly at how simple and intentional it was.

“Long morning?” she asked gently.

“Court’s been dragging, but nothing too brutal. Judge was late. Opposing counsel talks in circles. You know.”

“Oh, I do.” She chuckled softly. “I’ve sat through enough hearings to build a whole new justice system in my head.”

He laughed. “I believe that.”

There was a pause, not awkward—just full of presence. They were good at silence, these days.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to finish this speech. It’s one of those ‘be inspiring but not dramatic, strong but not polarizing, personal but still… elevated’ ones.”

He let out a low hum of sympathy. “The ‘Kamala Harris tightrope special.’”

“Exactly,” she said with a grin. “You know the type.”

“You’ll nail it,” he said easily. “You always do.”

Something in her chest softened again. She reached for her mug even though the tea was cold, just to have something to hold. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“I know,” he said, voice dropping just slightly. “I know how hard you are on yourself. I just… I wanted to call, even for a minute. I didn’t want to go the whole day without your voice in my ear.”

Kamala bit the inside of her cheek to keep the emotion from spilling too fast. “I like your voice too.”

He chuckled. “Well, then this worked out perfectly.”

A soft pause followed.

“Okay, I should get back,” Douglas said reluctantly. “But I’ll see you tonight?”

“I’ll be here,” she replied, her tone soft, certain.

And then—without hesitation, without nerves, with the full comfort of truth—he added, “I love you.”