Chapter seven

                                    

                                          



I don't want to say things were back to normal, because that didn't feel quite right. 
Things were better. 
We had reached a new level of friendship, of comfort, of...whatever we were. 
The morning car rides were filled with chatting, teasing, and a lot of laughter. As the weeks went on, our relationship seemed to grow. 
Since the morning of the flight to L.A., Kamala had been coming out of her house every morning, a second coffee tumbler in hand. She'd wordlessly hand it to me once we were in the car, a small, affectionate smile on her face. Sometimes one of her baking or cooking creations would accompany it. My mouth watering at the sight, Kamala would smile knowingly as I eagerly devoured it. She loved to cook and bake, and I was willing to try anything and everything.
***
The evening winding down, sun setting in the distance, the black SUVs pulled up outside the VP's Naval Observatory residence. 
It had been a long day, filled with meetings, a public appearance, and paperwork. The end to a long, productive week, Kamala was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a cozy blanket and book. 
Looking over, my eyes met Kamala's, a soft, tired smile shared between us. 
"Any fun plans for the weekend, Agent Riley?" Kamala questioned.
Shrugging a shoulder, I tiredly replied, "not really. Catching up on cleaning, maybe watching some tv or reading. What about you?"
"I've been eager to spend two days doing absolutely nothing but rotting on the couch with a good book." 
Humming appreciatively, I asked, "Any recommendations?"
A light blush emerged on the Vice President's face. "I could probably think of a few."
As the SUV pulled up to the house, a small aching feeling crossed my chest. As much as I enjoyed a couple of days to rest, to read, to catch up on adulting duties, there was always something missing from my weekend. 
Kamala's smile was soft, if not slightly forlorn, as we looked at each other. 
"Have a good weekend," she murmured, reaching over to give my arm an affectionate squeeze, her fingers lingering. "See you Monday morning."
"See you Monday morning, Kamala." I softly replied, covering my hand with hers. 
She gave me one last look over her shoulder as she climbed out of the SUV, that unreadable look swirling in her brown eyes. "Good night, Olivia."
***
The weekend passed by in a flash. My laundry clean, house tidy, and tv shows binged, I was ready to get back to work. 
That sounded a little pathetic as I thought about it, but when I thought about who I was excited to see at work, I had to push down the feelings surging in the pit of my stomach.
***
I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like death. 
My stomach hurt. My head felt like it was being squeezed in from all sides. I was sweating but couldn't seem to get warm enough. 
Groaning, I blindly reached out to find my phone, sending a quick text to my boss that I wouldn't be able to make it to work today. 
The next time I woke up was a few hours later, to sunlight peaking through my blinds. Checking my phone, I saw my boss had replied, telling me feel better and let him know if I needed more time off. I never called in sick, so I'm sure he knew I really did feel on the brink of death.