Chapter 13 Slowly Falling #2
He caught her hand.
"Violence."
"Self-defense."
"From what?"
"Disrespect."
He kissed her knuckles.
Then her wrist.
The teasing faded.
Tan's mouth moved slowly along the inside of her wrist before returning to her palm.
Amari's breathing shifted.
"T."
He looked at her.
There was desire between them now that no longer needed pretending.
They had been careful.
Deliberate.
Sometimes almost painfully so.
Not because attraction wasn't there.
Because it was.
Strongly.
But Amari had wanted to know she was choosing intimacy because she desired Tan—not because she felt pressure to prove she was healed.
Tan had never rushed her.
Tonight, something felt different.
Amari sat upright slowly.
Tan followed.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She looked toward him.
"I want you."
The words were quiet.
Certain.
Tan's expression changed.
He searched her face carefully.
Amari immediately noticed.
"Don't interrogate me."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm making sure."
She took his face gently between both hands.
"I am sure."
Tan swallowed.
"You don't owe me anything."
"I know."
"And we can stop anytime."
"I know."
"And—"
Amari kissed him.
That ended the speech.
Tan's surprise lasted less than a second.
Then his arms wrapped around her.
The kiss deepened slowly.
Not frantic.
Not careless.
Amari slid closer until there was almost no space between them.
Tan's hand moved along her back, pausing at her waist.
Every touch asked instead of assumed.
Every response from Amari answered.
The kiss became warmer.
Fuller.
Her fingers moved into his hair.
Tan breathed her name against her mouth.
"Amari."
The way he said it sent heat through her.
She kissed him again.
Longer.
Tan stood with her carefully, keeping one arm around her.
Amari smiled against his lips.
"Bedroom."
Tan looked at her.
"Still sure?"
She touched his cheek.
"Yes."
He nodded.
No joke.
No swagger.
Just trust.
What followed belonged to them.
Slow.
Tender.
Passionate.
A night built less around urgency than discovery.
Amari never felt handled.
Never felt watched.
Never felt as though her body were being judged against some impossible standard.
Tan loved her curves because they were hers.
The softness at her waist.
The fullness of her hips.
The shape she'd once tried to hide beneath oversized clothes.
He treated each part of her with the same reverence he gave her laughter, her intelligence, her stubbornness, her strength.
At one point, emotion surprised her.
She turned her face away.
Tan stopped immediately.
"Hey."
Amari shook her head.
"I'm okay."
"You sure?"
She nodded.
Then tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
Tan's expression was filled with concern.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No."
He moved back slightly anyway.
Amari reached for him.
"Don't."
He froze.
She pressed one hand against his chest.
"I'm crying because..."
Her voice broke.
Tan waited.
"Because I forgot it could feel like this."
His eyes softened.
"Like what?"
"Safe."
Tan closed his eyes briefly.
He kissed her forehead.
Then her cheek.
Then held her.
No expectation that the moment had to become anything else.
Amari rested against him.
"I love how you stop."
Tan looked down.
"What?"
"When you don't know."
"You stop."
He nodded.
"Always."
She smiled.
"That's why I trust you."
The words hit him deeper than almost anything she'd ever said.
Tan kissed her slowly.
This time, the tears ended.
And when they found their way back to each other, the rest of the night unfolded with patience, desire, laughter, and the kind of intimacy that left both of them feeling closer afterward than before.
Hours later, Amari slept curled against Tan's chest.
His arm rested around her.
The bedroom was quiet except for the low hum of the ceiling fan.
Tan stared into the darkness.
He couldn't remember the exact moment he'd fallen in love with her.
Maybe because there wasn't one.
Maybe Terrence had been right.
Love grew.
One showing up after another.
One truth after another.
One ordinary day at a time.
Tan looked down at the woman sleeping against him.
Then quietly admitted something to himself he wasn't ready to say aloud.
He didn't want to imagine his life without her anymore.
Morning arrived with sunlight across the bedroom floor.
Amari woke first.
For several seconds, she simply lay there.
Tan slept beside her.
One arm rested above his head.
His face looked younger in sleep.
Less guarded.
She watched him.
Then smiled.
Last night hadn't fixed anything.
She hadn't expected it to.
Her past still existed.
Craig still existed somewhere behind prison walls.
There would probably be moments when old fear returned.
Healing wasn't a doorway she crossed once.
But something inside her felt different.
Not because Tan had made her whole.
She had worked too hard to reclaim herself to hand that accomplishment to anyone else.
He had simply met her there.
Whole enough to choose.
Whole enough to love.
Tan's eyes opened.
He looked at her.
"Why are you staring?"
Amari smiled.
"Making sure you didn't steal anything."
Tan looked offended.
"Wow."
"Police officers have access."
"That doesn't make sense."
"You have my heart."
The sentence slipped out.
Both froze.
Amari's smile faded slightly.
Tan stared.
Her cheeks warmed.
"That was..."
"Yeah."
She started to move.
Tan reached for her hand.
"Wait."
Amari looked at him.
Tan sat up.
For once, the man who could command a tactical scene seemed unsure what to say.
"You have mine too."
Her expression changed.
Tan's pulse kicked harder.
He could have stopped there.
Instead, he didn't.
"I love you."
Silence.
Amari stared at him.
Tan swallowed.
"This is not how I planned to say it."
She was still quiet.
His nerves intensified.
"I mean, I did plan to say it eventually."
Nothing.
Tan frowned.
"Amari?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh no."
Tan panicked.
"Why are you crying?"
She hit his shoulder.
"Because you said it first."
Tan blinked.
"What?"
"I've been trying not to say it for two weeks."
Relief hit him so hard he laughed.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"You've known for two weeks?"
"Probably longer."
Tan smiled.
"Then say it."
Amari wiped her face.
"You're bossy."
"I've heard."
She touched his cheek.
"I love you, Tan."
His smile became something she would remember years later.
Open.
Happy.
Almost boyish.
He kissed her.
Not with the passion from the night before.
This kiss was softer.
Different.
A promise neither of them had officially made.
Yet.
Their first year together passed.
Then their second began.
The relationship deepened.
Amari became part of the David family's everyday life rather than special-event company.
She attended Ella's nursing-school pinning ceremony.
She helped Eva cook Thanksgiving dinner and learned quickly that Gloria believed recipes were insults.
"How much seasoning?" Amari asked.
Gloria looked offended.
"Until the ancestors say stop."
Amari stared.
"How do I hear them?"
"You'll know."
Tan laughed from the doorway.
"Good luck."
Gloria threw a dish towel at him.
Amari spent Christmas morning with the Davids and Christmas evening with her own family.
Tan joined both.
Travis and Amari developed an unlikely friendship built largely around arguing with Tan.
Ella began calling her whenever she needed outfit advice.
Harold discovered Amari liked fishing more than Tan did and almost replaced his grandson permanently.
Tan complained.
Harold told him to improve.
Terrence watched all of it with quiet satisfaction.
One summer evening, the entire family gathered in the backyard for a cookout.
Music played.
Children from neighboring families raced through the sprinkler.
Gloria sat beneath the patio umbrella giving unsolicited advice to everyone within hearing distance.
Amari stood near the grill with Tan.
Terrence looked over from across the yard.
Eva followed his gaze.
"He's gonna marry her."
Terrence smiled.
"You think?"
"I know."
"You knew about us too?"
Eva looked at him.
"Of course."
"Before me?"
"Way before you."
Terrence laughed.
"I distinctly remember asking you to marry me."
"And I distinctly remember waiting for you to catch up."
He shook his head.
They watched Tan lean toward Amari and whisper something.
She laughed and pushed him.
Terrence's smile softened.
"He's happy."
Eva leaned against him.
"He deserves that."
Terrence nodded.
All three of their children were doing well.