Behind Closed doors

Chapter 32

When they arrived at Lauren's old apartment, the air was filled with a crisp December chill, the faint hum of distant carolers echoing from a nearby street. Lauren climbed out of the car first, then turned to help Kamala, who stood waiting with her hands carefully covering her eyes as instructed.

"You're really going all out with this secrecy," Kamala teased, her voice light and playful.

Lauren chuckled, her breath visible in the cold air. "You'll thank me in a minute. Now, trust me and no peeking." She placed a gentle hand on Kamala's waist, guiding her up the short flight of stairs to the apartment door.

Kamala moved carefully under Lauren's guidance, her curiosity brimming. "If I trip in these heels, it's on you."

"You're in good hands, Madam President," Lauren murmured, leaning closer. Her lips brushed against Kamala's ear, earning a soft laugh. "Almost there."

Once they reached the door, Lauren fumbled with the keys for a moment, her heart racing with anticipation. The soft click of the lock was barely audible over the pounding in her chest. She pushed the door open, the warm glow from inside spilling out into the frosty night.

"Ready?" Lauren whispered, stepping behind Kamala and resting her hands on her shoulders.

Kamala smiled, her hands still covering her eyes. "Show me."

Lauren gently guided Kamala's hands away, letting them fall to her sides. "Merry Christmas, baby."

Kamala's breath hitched as her eyes adjusted to the scene before her. The once-modest apartment had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Ornaments hung delicately from the ceiling, casting a soft shimmer under the string lights that crisscrossed the room. Puffs of fake snow blanketed the furniture, and a towering Christmas tree stood in the corner, its branches adorned with glimmering gold and silver decorations. Gifts of various sizes were nestled beneath it, wrapped in rich hues of red and green.

The dining table was set for two, draped in an elegant white tablecloth. Candles flickered softly, their glow casting a romantic light over the arrangement of white petals scattered across the table. Near the fireplace, a set of plush white sheets and pillows had been laid out, a cozy invitation to relax in the intimate warmth of the crackling fire.

Kamala gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Laurie...this is..." She trailed off, her voice thick with emotion. "It's beautiful. It's perfect."

Lauren grinned, stepping closer to slide her arms around Kamala's waist. "You like it?"

"Like it?" Kamala turned to face her, tears glistening in her eyes. "I love it. I can't believe you did all this."

Lauren smiled, then tilted her head upward slightly. "Look up," she murmured, her tone playful.

Kamala tilted her head back, her gaze falling on the small sprig of mistletoe hanging just above them. She broke into a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Mistletoe?" she said, her tone half-teasing, half-amused. "Under this tough bodyguard look, you're really a hopeless romantic, aren't you?"

Lauren shrugged, her smile widening. "Guilty as charged."

Kamala shook her head, still grinning like a child, before cupping Lauren's face. "I wanted to give you a real Christmas," Lauren said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Kamala's face. "No cameras, no staff, no politics. Just us. I thought this place would be perfect—our little bubble."

Kamala leaned in, pulling Lauren into a tender kiss. It was slow and full of gratitude, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. When they parted, Kamala rested her forehead against Lauren's. "Thank you," she whispered. "This means everything to me."