We are not going back

Chapter forty-six

Tyler and I found a cozy little corner at the café, away from the bustling crowd but not hidden enough from the relentless paparazzi who had somehow trailed us here. I sighed, stirring my coffee as the sound of camera shutters clicked like a relentless background track.

Tyler, unfazed as ever, flashed a sarcastic smile at the photographers, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know how you deal with this every day, girl. I’d be flipping tables by now."

I chuckled and shook my head. "I just pretend they're not there... or drink a couple of straight shots to keep my sanity. Also, from now on, you only refer to Kamala as 'Mr. Coconut.'"

His eyebrow shot up, an amused grin spreading across his face. "Mr. Coconut? Really?"

I nodded, taking a sip of my coffee, hoping it would calm my nerves. "Yeah. I overheard her on the phone saying something and... well, it stuck."

Tyler laughed out loud, a sound that somehow made the constant flashes seem less intrusive. "Okay, Mr. Coconut it is. How is Mr. Coconut doing, anyway? Have you two had a heart-to-heart since all that chaos with Olivia?"

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach at the mention of Olivia, but I smiled through it. "We’ve talked… She’s been amazing. Really supportive. But it’s complicated, you know? I still feel guilty. Like... exposing Olivia should've felt like a victory, but it doesn't. It just... hurts."

Tyler gave me a sympathetic look, his usual playfulness softening. "I get that. And you know, you're stronger for doing what you did. She deserved to be exposed. No one should have to go through what you went through." He paused, sipping his own drink before leaning in a bit. "But when are you going back to work? You’ve been away from the White House long enough, don’t you think?"

I sighed, looking out at the street as more cameras snapped away. "I don’t know. I still feel... off. Like I’m not ready to face that world again."

He waved his hand dismissively, giving me a look. "You’ll be fine. You need to get back there, show them who the real Eleonora is. You’ve survived worse."

"I know..."

He played with one of his perfect curls, "I just don't get it- like I understand that you two met as children, but why on Earth would you marry someone with such outrageous opinions. How can you claim that abortion is wrong and infidelity is disgusting when you're the biggest ho since my girl Monica? No offense to her. I mean she had great outfits, but still."

I smiled gratefully but quickly changed the subject. "Besides, you know, Mr. Coconut’s keeping me pretty busy."

Tyler's eyes lit up with mischief. "Ohhh, I see. Mr. Coconut, huh? You’re glowing, honey." He winked, making me laugh.

"No, stop!" I felt my face heat up. "It’s not like that. We’ve been so busy with everything, we haven’t been... you know… intimate in a while."

Tyler almost choked on his coffee, laughing. "Girl, don’t be embarrassed! That’s normal with everything you’ve been dealing with. But you know, I can tell Mr. Coconut is good for you." He gave me a knowing look. "You’re more... grounded. Less worried about the world’s opinion and more about yourself."

I smiled, feeling a little less embarrassed. "She is good for me. And Doug is just amazing. He’s actually been really supportive."

Tyler leaned back, grinning wickedly. "Supportive, huh? Can't you ask Mr C if the Mrs Coconut is interested in the same coconuts too? That man is one fine piece of fruit that I'd love to sink my teeth in."

"Tyler!" I laughed, "I'll ask, but just because I think double dates would be fun."

"I knew there's a reason why we're friends," He took a bite, "Tell me, well I already know, but I need you to confirm it. Mr. Coconut is the dominant one in this relationship, right? In the bed as well as in every day life."

I could feel my face flush bright red. "Tyler, stop it!"

He burst out laughing, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Come on, Eleonora! It’s true. You can’t tell me Mr. Coconut doesn’t take charge."

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself. "You are the worst!"

"Hey, just saying! Maybe you just need a little... push to get things back on track." He gave me a teasing smile but softened his tone. "Listen, the best advice I can give you is to not overthink it. You’ve been through hell, but Mr C is there for you. Just let things happen naturally, but also, take your coconut and crack that shell. Get all those juices out."

I lowered my hands, feeling a little lighter. "Thanks, Tyler. I needed that. Even if you’re a little too blunt sometimes."

He grinned. "Blunt is my middle name, darling. Now, go back to Mr. Coconut and make sure she knows just how lucky she is."

I laughed, shaking my head as I stood up. "You’re impossible, but I love you."

"Love you too, girl. Now, go get your coconut." He winked again, and I couldn't help but laugh as I headed out, feeling the weight of everything a little less heavy thanks to Tyler’s relentless humor.

***

I found Kamala in the bathroom, her leg perched on the edge of the tub, razor in hand. She was carefully shaving, her brow furrowed in concentration, and it made me smile. There was something grounding about seeing her, the woman who commanded rooms and led nations, carefully shaving her legs like anyone else. I leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a second longer before stepping inside.

“Need a hand?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

She glanced up, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You offering?”

I nodded, stepping closer and taking the razor from her hand. “I can’t promise I’m an expert, but I think I can manage without killing you.”

She shifted slightly, lifting her leg so I could start at her ankle. My fingers brushed her skin as I applied the shaving cream, and I felt a jolt of something -intimate and electric- pulse through me. I focused, trying to keep my mind on the task, but the act of shaving her legs became more sensual than I had expected.

We were quiet for a while, the only sounds the gentle scrape of the razor and the faint hum of the bathroom light. My hands moved slowly, carefully, along her calf, then her thigh. I could feel the tension between us, thick in the air, but neither of us spoke of it.

And then it slipped out.

“Hold still, Mr. Coconut,” I said, my voice light, trying to break the silence.

Kamala snorted softly. “Mr. Coconut, huh?” Her tone was amused, but I could see her eyes darken slightly, aware of the unspoken pull between us.

I bit my lip, trying to steer my mind away from the growing heat between us. “Who do you think is the best rapper alive?”

It was a random question, something to distract myself.

Without missing a beat, she replied, “Tupac.”

The silence hung heavy for a second, and I couldn't help it -I burst into laughter. “Baby, Tupac’s been dead for years!”

She grinned, her eyes crinkling with warmth. “I know. But if he were alive...”

I shook my head, still laughing. It felt so good to laugh, to let go for a moment. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this happy, this light. Kamala watched me, her smile softening into something tender, and I knew she felt it too.

I finished shaving her legs, and as I rinsed off the razor, I felt her eyes on me. When I turned back around, she was still smiling, but there was a seriousness in her expression that made my breath catch.

“Eleanora,” she said softly, “I love you.”

"Obviously, I'm amazing," grinned, feeling a swell of emotion rise in my chest. As much as the world around us was chaotic, in that moment, it didn’t matter. It was just us- intimate, vulnerable, and real, "I love you too, Mr Coconut."

“Mr. Coconut, huh?” she teased again, her smile returning.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t hide my grin. “Yeah, and don’t forget it.”