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A laugh escaped her. “Yeah. Maybe.” She bit her tongue before confessing sex with him was more on an earthquake basis.

He pressed his lips to her hair. "So you're excited."

"I'm choosing to interpret it that way."

His low laugh rumbled through his chest. "Smart woman." He pulled back enough to look at her, tilting her face up with two fingers under her chin. Under the lights, the ring on her finger caught and scattered — a small, bright fact she kept noticing throughout the day. You. Mine. Us. "You know what I want most, right now, more than the numbers?"

"Tell me."

"To deserve tonight. To deserve this." His thumb traced her cheekbone. "To have been the man worth standing next to."

Her throat closed. She reached up, pressed her palm to his jaw. "You earned every vote," she said. "I watched you earn them. All year. I was there."

"You were."

She made sure to lock his gaze with hers. "You were worth it before the votes. That was never the question."

He kissed her slowly, one hand cupping her face. She kissed him back and tried not to cry, because if she cried her mascara would migrate and Mia would have a complete medical episode. She was not going to arrive at the podium looking undone.

A knock sounded on the door. "Mr. Governor." Bob's voice, flat and factual. "Three minutes."

They looked at each other. He shrugged on his jacket. Alyssa smoothed his lapels, adjusted his tie a quarter of an inch, and straightened the pin on his left side. "Ready?" she asked.

He offered his hand and she took it. They went to watch the final results together, surrounded by the people they loved.

The suite detonated the moment the anchor called it.

Chloe launched herself across the room and hit her father like a small, targeted missile. Jonathan laughed, hugging her hard, and Alyssa watched them together with tears in her eyes. Ethan swung Mia around , face full of pride and confidence. She loved seeing Mia star struck for once, as if she was finally recognizing she’d helped get Jonathan all the way to the governor’s office.

Alyssa stood in the middle of it and let the noise wash over her.

New York's next governor.

She'd known the number was coming. She'd tracked every precinct, every margin, every percentage point for months. She'd built spreadsheets. She'd sat in strategy sessions. She'd known before tonight that the probability was statistically high.

But now it was real.

The anchor was still talking. The graphic on the screen read JONATHAN LAKE — PROJECTED WINNER. The suite was all sound and motion and champagne and Bob — Bob — actually, visibly, smiled.

Jonathan came through the chaos to find her. He took her face in his hands, and the noise of the room dropped away. He pressed his forehead to hers and said, very quietly, "Hi."

"Hi," she said back.

"We did it."

"You did it."

"We." The word was a firm declaration and vow. "Every single day this year, you were there. You were the first call and the last call and the reason I slept at all on the bad nights. Don't give me the win without putting yourself in it."

She grinned, reached up, and gripped his wrists. "You’re right. We did it.”

His own smile broke wide, and he kissed her hard. The room erupted again — Chloe's whoop above everything else — and Alyssa laughed into his mouth, and he laughed back, and then Mia's voice cut through.

"Thirty seconds to the elevator. I need both of you moving, please."

The walk was a bit blurred with anticipation, nerves, and joy. The ballroom hit her hard.

The sound was physical; a wall of it; cheering and applause and the band and the stomp of feet on the floor. They stood in the wings, waiting for the big moment.