Chapter Twenty-Nine Eason Storm
She looked like she didn’t belong to the world at all, just to me. Sitting in that wheelchair, wrapped in a soft robe, the breeze kissing her skin while the ocean whispered promises behind us.
“Eason, what is this?” She asked, her voice soft but tired, eyes scanning the stretch of sand like she couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a setup.
I pushed her gently through the open glass doors, into a sun-drenched living room with floor-to-ceiling views of the water, the kind of place people begged for in magazines. But this wasn’t for people. This was for her. For us.
“It’s yours,” I said simply. “Ours.”
She blinked. “What?”
“This house. This beach. This view.” I crouched in front of her, taking her hand, pressing my lips to her knuckles.
“This is where you heal. Where we raise our babies. Where you don’t have to flinch every time the past comes knocking.
I’m done letting the world fuck with you, Muffin. So, I bought us peace.”
Tears filled the rim of her eyes as she gazed up at me, her bottom lip trembling like she was seconds from falling apart.
Even though we’d come so far from the beginning—when she was running from me, spitting fire every time I tried to get close, telling herself I was the wrong one—I knew she still carried pieces of that girl who thought love had to hurt to be real.
This wasn’t just about comfort. This wasn’t about the house or the ocean or the big-ass windows that faced a world I was trying to shield her from. This was about her finally seeing what I saw.
“Eason,” she whispered, voice cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Why are you doing all this? What did I do to deserve this?”
She tried to laugh, but it broke into a sob. “I would’ve been perfectly fine just resting at the penthouse. You didn’t have to—this is too much.”
I crouched in front of her, gripping the arms of the wheelchair like I was anchoring myself there.
“Muffin,” I said low, firm. “You’re still trying to convince yourself you don’t deserve good shit. Still trying to ration out your own healing like it’s on a damn budget.”
I reached for her hand, brought it to my chest, placed it over my heartbeat.
“This ain’t too much. This is what love look like when it’s real.
You ain’t gotta earn this. You are this.
You survived hell, you built yourself back up from nothing.
You still soft with my kids, still strong enough to tell me no, still trying to protect the same people who tried to break you.
That ain’t just deserving, Muffin. That’s holy. ”
She sniffled, trying to look away, but I caught her chin, forced her to face me.
“I bought this place because I wanted you to have peace that wasn’t attached to pain. I wanted our kids to wake up hearing waves, not sirens. I wanted you to see what the fuck I see when I look at you. Not broken. Not damaged. Not hard.”
I kissed the inside of her palm, slow. “I see forever.”
Her chest rose and fell, the fight in her eyes cracking just a little. Her other hand gripped mine tighter, her tears falling freely now. “But what if I mess this up?” she whispered. “What if I don’t know how to live like this?”
“Then I’ll teach you,” I said without hesitation. “Day by day. Hour by hour. We’ll learn together.”
Silence settled between us for a moment, but it wasn’t heavy. It was honest and deep. Soft in the way only we could be with each other when the world stopped spinning.
Then she let out a shaky breath, leaned forward, and pressed her forehead to mine.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You don’t ever gotta thank me for loving you,” I muttered, brushing my nose against hers. “You just gotta let me do it.”
And when I kissed her again, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was slow. Steady. Like home. Like a promise I was never breaking.
“Plus, wouldn’t you like to wake up to the beautiful sight of the beach and waves?” I mumbled against her lips, my voice low, thick with promise. “Especially while I’m gently stroking and drowning, getting lost in your waves.”
Her breath hitched, and her fingers slid up into my locs, gently brushing through them. “The doctor said we have to take it easy, Eason,” she murmured, eyes fluttering closed for a second. “I can’t do too much right now.”
“I know,” I said, dragging my lips down the side of her neck, slow and reverent. “And I got no problem doing all the work. I’ll cater to every inch of you—physically, mentally, emotionally.” I whispered that shit like a scripture, like every word was stitched in gold just for her ears.
She shivered beneath me, and I felt her thighs shift. Her breath grew shallower, chest rising and falling just a little faster.
“I’m not trying to fuck you,” I added, my voice barely above a breath as I kissed a path to her collarbone. “I’m tryna love you… slowly. Deliberately. The way you been needing. The way you deserve.”
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close like she finally stopped fighting the idea that I was hers. That she was mine.
I reached down and lifted her gently into my arms, her body light against mine as I carried her to the master suite bed, the balcony doors cracked so the ocean air wrapped around us like a third presence.
She laid back against the pillows, eyes watching me carefully, but not afraid. Not uncertain. Just feeling.
I stripped off my shirt, crawled into bed beside her, and pulled the covers over us both. No rush. No pressure. I just gathered her into my arms, her back against my chest, her head beneath my chin.
I let my fingers trace lazy, soft circles across her stomach, feeling the faint flutters of our child between us.
“I’ll wait as long as I need to,” I whispered. “And when you’re ready, I’ll love you through every damn storm, every scar, every breakdown. I’m never leaving, Muffin. You mine and I’m yours.”
She didn’t respond at first. She just curled her fingers around my wrist and held me there, tucked in against her like a heartbeat she didn’t want to lose.
And then, so soft I almost missed it, she whispered, “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
I pressed my lips to the curve of her shoulder and smiled into her skin.
“I’d burn this whole world down before I ever let you go.”
The sun had dipped behind the horizon, painting the sky with soft streaks of gold and lavender, when I heard small footsteps padding against the wooden floor. Nasir peeked into the room first, eyes wide with mischief, and Ginger followed right behind him, clutching something tight in her tiny hand.
“Mama,” Ginger whispered loudly, a little too excited to stay quiet. “Wake up.”
I felt Xalori’s body shake slightly against me as she laughed, turning her head slowly toward them. “I wasn’t sleep, baby. Just resting my eyes. What y’all got going on?”
Nasir stepped closer, nudging Ginger forward. “Go ‘head, give it to her.”
Ginger toddled up, cheeks round with a smile that made my chest ache and climbed onto the bed. She opened her little fist, revealing a silver key dangling from a delicate white ribbon.
“Mama, say yes,” Ginger whispered, serious and sweet, placing the key gently into Xalori’s open palm. Nasir stood beside the bed, nodding his head with a shy grin, backing his sister up.
“Yeah, Mama. You gotta say yes,” he encouraged, eyes sparkling. “Daddy said we gonna stay here forever. No more moving around, no more bein’ scared.”
I watched as Xalori stared down at the key, her breath hitching, eyes filling slowly with tears she tried like hell to blink away. She ran her thumb softly across the metal, lips trembling just a little.
Slowly, her gaze lifted, meeting mine with a look that held a million questions and a thousand silent prayers.
I gently took her hand, my fingers wrapping around hers, the key pressed between our palms like a secret promise.
“No ring,” I said, voice low, rough around the edges.
“I know you don’t need diamonds or flashy shit to prove you’re mine.
You’re deeper than that. So, this ain’t me asking with jewelry, Muffin.
It’s me asking with a promise. A promise to protect you, to choose you, to fight for you and these kids every damn day I wake up. ”
Her breathing was uneven, eyes wide as she stared up at me. “Eason—”
“I don’t care if the world tries to rip us apart,” I continued, cutting her off gently, thumb tracing slow circles on her palm. “I’ll burn every threat to ash before they touch you. This key? It ain’t just to this house. It’s to our future, our peace, our family. Forever.”
A single tear slipped free, trailing down her cheek. Nasir and Ginger watched quietly, sensing the weight of the moment. Ginger crawled into Xalori’s lap, cuddling close, while Nasir stepped up to my side, little hand gripping mine tightly.
Xalori looked from our kids back to me, holding the key like it was the most precious thing in the world.
“Say yes, Mama,” Ginger repeated softly, nestling into her chest.
Xalori took a shuddering breath, then another, before finally whispering, “Yes. Forever.”
I leaned forward, cupping her face gently, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that sealed more than words ever could. Nasir cheered quietly, and Ginger giggled against her mother’s chest, the sound of pure joy wrapping around us like armor.
Pulling back, I rested my forehead against hers, letting her feel every word that left my mouth.
“Forever starts now, Muffin. You ain’t never gotta question that again.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft smile on her lips. “I believe you.”
And for the first time, I knew she really did.