The Love Of My Life

Chapter 23

Maya's POV

The television's flickering blue light illuminated the living room as we all sat crowded on Kamala's oversized sectional. It wasn't election night, but the tension in the room felt heavier than any holiday or family gathering I could remember. Every eye was glued to the screen, every heart pounding with each poll update. The numbers rolled across the screen, and I couldn't help but cling to the faint hope that things would turn around. Amara, my oldest grandbaby, snuggled against me, her small head resting on my chest. "I want Auntie to win," she whispered, her voice soft and filled with a naive but powerful longing. "Me too, baby," I murmured back, kissing the top of her head. "Me too." I finished,  The room was quiet, save for the occasional murmurs of disbelief from one of the adults. Everyone was trying to process what was unfolding before us and find hope where there was little left to grasp. "How the fuck did he win all the battleground states?" Meena snapped, her voice breaking the silence like a whip. Her eyes were fixed on the TV, anger flashing in them. "I'm scared," Leela, the youngest grandbaby, whispered, her voice trembling. She was huddled close to Nik, who wrapped an arm around her shoulder protectively. "It's okay, baby girl," Nik said, doing his best to console her, though his voice's quiver betrayed his unease. I glanced at the clock on the wall. The hands pointed to 5:30 in the morning. We had stayed up all night, glued to this nightmare of an election. My body ached from sitting in one position for so long, but I couldn't move. My chest felt heavy with frustration, anger, and disbelief. "Cheaters," I muttered under my breath. "That's all they do—cheat," I said. 

I watched as Meena stood up, stretching her back before motioning toward the stairs. "Come on, girls," she said, her voice soft now. "We need to take a nap. No point in staying up any longer," she said,  She ushered Leela and Amara upstairs, her steps slow and her head low, as if the weight of the night had aged her years in just a few hours. Tony slid closer to me on the couch, his hand reaching for mine. "You need to rest too, honey," he said gently. I turned to him sharply, the anger bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. "You have to be fucking kidding me," I snapped, yanking my hand away as I got up from the couch. "How can some of the American people be so stupid? After everything, everything we've been through, this is what they choose?" I said Tony looked at me, his eyes soft and pleading, but I couldn't deal with his quiet understanding right now. I couldn't deal with anything. My chest felt like it was going to explode. I stalked past him, heading for the kitchen. I needed to move, to do something, anything, to burn off this rage and helplessness. The kettle on the stove caught my eye, and I reached for it, my hands shaking as I filled it with water. I could hear Tony's footsteps behind me, slow and hesitant. He wasn't sure if he should follow me or give me space. "Maya..." he started, his voice careful. I slammed the kettle onto the stove, the clang echoing through the otherwise silent house. "Don't, Tony. Don't try to tell me it's going to be okay because you don't know that. None of us do." He didn't say anything; he just stood there watching me. That only made me angrier. "They don't care about us," I said, my voice cracking. "They never have. They'll vote for anyone who promises them some bullshit version of the 'good old days.' Meanwhile, people like us—people like my sister—fight tooth and nail to prove we belong, to make a difference, and for what?"

I turned to face him, tears stinging my eyes. "For them to steal it? To cheat their way back into power? Do you know what this means for our girls? For Amara? For Leela? Do you understand how much harder it's going to be for them now?" I asked Tony stepped closer, his hands outstretched like he wanted to pull me into a hug, but I backed away. I wasn't ready to be comforted. Not yet. "I know you're angry," he said softly. "I am, too. But we can't fall apart right now, Maya. Not in front of the kids. They're looking to us for strength." he said, I let out a bitter laugh, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "Strength? I don't feel strong right now, Tony. I feel defeated. I feel... tired." I said The kettle began to whistle, a sharp, piercing sound that seemed to match the pressure building inside me. I turned off the burner and poured the boiling water into a mug, my movements robotic. "You don't have to be strong all the time," Tony said, stepping closer again. This time, I didn't back away. "But we'll get through this. Together. We always do." he said,  I looked at him, his eyes filled with a quiet determination that mirrored the love he'd always shown me, even when I didn't feel deserving of it. "I don't know if I can do this," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "Yes, you can," he said firmly, taking the mug from my hands and setting it on the counter. "And I'll be right here with you every step of the way," he said as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. For the first time all night, I let myself relax, just a little, into his embrace. The anger and fear didn't disappear, but in that moment, they felt a little less overwhelming. As the morning sun began to peek through the blinds, I realized that no matter how hopeless things seemed, we had to keep going. For our girls. For our family. For the future, we wanted to believe in, even if it felt impossibly far away.