Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
I bite my nails, tearing off a big chunk of what has already basically been chewed down to the stubs.
It’s a much smaller gathering than a year ago, but the wine is flowing and I’ve already had to refill the charcuterie board twice.
Marisol is here, talking my father’s ear off about solar panels and lightly scolding him for not installing them on the roof of the house sooner.
I’ve been consulting on her campaign for the past few months and will likely take on an even bigger role in the new year.
Kate is her campaign manager and also currently dipping a carrot into hummus—while my campaign was a much lower-key affair this time around, she lent me her expertise when she had the chance.
I moved out of my parents’ house and into my own apartment off Melrose Place.
It has arched doorways, ancient appliances, the original carpets, and tons of charm.
I start my day with coffee on my balcony that looks out to the Hollywood hills.
I miss La Musa every day. I miss Benito every day, but he’ll be here as soon as his visa is sorted out, and I’ve never been so happy to be home.
My newly re-energized Instagram following can’t wait either—ever since I unintentionally broadcasted Benito’s love confession to the entire world, every post is full of We need #Benizzy! We demand more #Benizzy comments.
I refresh the browser on my laptop and squeal. Kate motions for the party to quiet down. I hold my breath as the results load.
Mid-City West Neighborhood Council Election Results
Council Board Members: Lucas Leung [Incumbent], Surabhi Veenapani [Incumbent], Julian Cabrera, Emily Smith, and Izzy Rhodes.
The room erupts into cheers and applause.
Marisol hugs me and my mom kisses my head.
It’s not Congress or the Senate, but I’m back in public office.
After this I could run for City Council, State Assembly, Senate, governor, eventually president.
The future is wide open. Maybe I’ll crash and burn in pursuit of my dream again, maybe I’ll never get past this step, but I have to keep going, I have to keep trying.
Maybe the dream isn’t the destination, it’s the journey—or whatever the wooden sign my mom bought at HomeGoods said.
The buzzer in my apartment rings and interrupts the celebration. It’s a late straggler to the party, but the booze is free-flowing, so the more the merrier. “Come on up!” I say in the intercom and buzz them in, opening the door to greet whoever is headed up the exterior stairs.
My breath catches in my lungs when I see the familiar gait, the tousled hair, and the shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows. I quickly shut the door behind me, quieting the party inside.
“Hi,” he says as he approaches.
I’m still too stunned to form words. “Benito?” I choke out. We FaceTime every day and last I checked, he was in London, moving the last of his stuff out of Sutton’s apartment.
He forms a meek smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Sorry to just drop in on you like this.”
“Are you kidding?” I barely choke out before Benito separates the distance between us, and with one swift step his lips are on mine.
I wind my hands into his hair and pull his body closer to mine.
Finally, finally, everything feels right.
I thought getting elected to Congress was the best night of my life, but this is so much better—and there are so many better days ahead.
I hear a celebratory whoop from behind the door and we break apart. “Oh, yeah,” I say. “I won.”
Benito’s smile widens. “Of course you did.”
We’ve talked a lot over the past half year about what our lives here will look like.
As much as I would love if his only passion was me, I know he needs a purpose too.
He’s been consulting for Kate alongside me for a few months—and there’s a real possibility that he’ll become a campaign strategist, but I told him to take his time and make sure he enjoys it and it’s what he really wants.
No matter what he decides, I’ll be here, cheering him along.
And I know he’ll always do the same for me.
He nods toward the party. “Ready to go back in?”
I cock my head at him. God, he’s so beautiful.
My phone screen did not do him justice. “Mmm, not yet.” I basically jump him, running my hands through his hair and bringing his lips back to mine, but I hesitate before we connect.
“Wait, what about immigration?” I blurt out, because my practical side is such a mood killer.
“I took care of it,” Benito says. “I’m dating someone who knows a guy.”
The End.