Page 93 of See You Next Tuesday

Anya took a deep inhale, then slowly let it out. “You’re asking where I want to live? After the election?”

“I am, but I thought it might feel like a less heavy question if I asked it really cryptically.”

“A perfect plan,” Anya agreed. “I guess I’ve been avoiding thinking about it? Because that also means thinking about getting a job, and I don’t…really know what that would be.”

“You don’t want to get on a race?” Gabe asked.

“I’m not sure.” Anya frowned. “After my mom died, and Kincaid lost anyway, it kind of made me feel like…like maybe I’ve been lying to myself?”

“About what?” Gabe leaned forward, his gaze fixed on her.

“About why I love campaigning, or whether it even matters.” Anya shook her head. “Like, is the work actually important, or do I just like the work because it makes me feel so important, you know? The constant emergency of it, the high stakes, putting the rest of my life on hold.”

“The rush,” Gabe added.

“Exactly! But like, I’m thirty-two, and I have no place to live. I have four hundred dollars in my bank account and a check from my mom’s life insurance that I can’t bring myself to touch.”

“Really?” Gabe rubbed Anya’s knee. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“It’s not a huge amount or anything, I just— I don’t want it.” Anya shrugged. “I don’t know. My mom was so proud of my work, but this year I’ve kind of been feeling like, did I make all these sacrifices for my work because it mattered so much? Or did the work have to matter so much because otherwise it wouldn’t be worth the sacrifice?”

“We put Jo Sessego in the Senate,” Gabe said quietly. “That matters, doesn’t it?”

“Of course it does.” Anya leaned back and looked out at the water lapping gently at the shore. The sun was warm, and the dogs were barking excitedly—possibly they’d found a squirrel. “But I also think that maybe the best part of that campaign was you guys. Simone and Kira. Us becoming friends. My parents getting to know everyone.”

Gabe nodded. “I totally agree.”

“So then it’s like, should we go to DC, to be closer to Simone and Kira? But also, I don’t want to go to DC. And sorry, I don’t want to assume— I mean, obviously you have your own ideas about what you want to do and where you want to go.”

“I want to be where you are,” Gabe told her. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s extremely what I want.” Anya wrapped her arms around his middle, and he pulled her close.

“So then, we could go to DC,” Gabe echoed. “We could hop on a race together. Or…”

“Or?” Anya looked up at him.

“I don’t know.” He smiled. “Who are we if we’re not on a campaign?”

“People who own wooden furniture and meet their friends for dinner before ten p.m.?”

“Sounds boring,” Gabe sniffed.

“Says the man happily taking a hike on a Friday during business hours.”

“I think we’ve established this is not a hike, and duh, I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“Even when I yell at you in meetings?” Anya grinned.

“Don’t be silly.” Gabe beamed at her. “Then most of all.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Anya said—and then her face froze in horror. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Okay,” Gabe said slowly. “But is it true?”

There was no use denying it. She wasn’t even sure why she’d want to, except that her heart was pounding so hard she almost felt dizzy.

So she nodded.