43. Tyler
TYLER
We drive home with the windows down despite the cool April air, both of us needing to feel something real.
The verdict keeps replaying in my head. Not the win exactly. The shape of it. The conditions. The six months. Ms. Chen's voice on the bench in the hallway, saying most people don't meet it.
Most people don't.
But some do.
I don't say it out loud. I don't have to. Nora's looking out the window, and I know she's running the same loop. We're both relieved and a little bit angry about the way she said in the hallway.
We pull into the driveway at three, and Emma comes running out before we're even out of the car, Diane right behind her.
"Well?" Emma demands.
I tell her. The custody. The supervised visitation. The six months. The conditions. The whole shape of it.
Emma absorbs this. So does Diane.
"Harper stays," Emma says.
"Harper stays."
"That's the answer." She pulls me into a hug. "That's the only one that mattered."
Diane is crying, the quiet kind. She doesn't say anything for a minute. "We can work with this."
"Yeah."
"We can work with this," she repeats, more firmly. "You did it, Tyler.”
Inside, Harper's in her playpen, and the second she sees us, she reaches up with both hands. I scoop her up, holding her so tight she squeaks.
"You're staying, baby girl," I whisper into her hair. "You're staying right here."
She grabs my face with both hands and babbles something that sounds almost like Dada, and I lose it a little, tears streaming down my face while Emma takes a hundred photos.
We celebrate. Quieter than we would have if it had been a clean win, but real. Emma orders pizza. Diane opens the champagne she'd brought. Everyone passes Harper around. Nora keeps catching my eye and smiling, that small, certain smile she does when she's letting herself feel something.
Danny texts from the team group chat. He'd found out somehow, probably from Liam.
Danny: Heard the news. Harper stays. That's the win. Love you, brother.
And below that, from a number I don't immediately recognize.
Unknown: Glad it went your way, West. She belongs with you, R. Johnson
Reaper. I read it twice. Then I put my phone in my pocket.
Around six, Emma checks her watch.
"We should head out. You two need time to process. To celebrate properly." She hugs me tight. "I'm so proud of you, Ty. So incredibly proud."
Diane kisses Harper one more time, then pulls me into a hug. "Your parents should be here for this." She says it simply, without cruelty, just as a fact she wants acknowledged. "They're idiots who don't deserve you. But you're an incredible father."
I hold onto that. She means it. And my parents not being here, not calling, not knowing, not caring the way Emma and Diane care, that's their loss, not mine.
Harper won't have grandparents on my side who show up.
She'll have Emma, who drives eight hours.
She'll have Diane, who brings champagne just in case.
She'll have a whole family who chose each other.
That's enough. That's more than enough.
By six-thirty, they're gone, and it's just us. Nora, Harper, and me.
Our house. Our family.
We do Harper's bedtime routine together, moving through the familiar motions: bath, pajamas, bottle, story.
But everything feels different tonight. Lighter, but not weightless, like we've been holding our breath for months and can finally exhale, even if some of the breath is still in there waiting for the next thing.
Harper is asleep before we finish the second book, completely out, one hand curled near her face.
We stand in the nursery doorway for a long moment, just watching her breathe.
"She's safe," I whisper. "She's ours."
"For now," Nora says quietly. "And for the foreseeable future."
"Yeah."
"That's enough, Tyler."
"I know it is. I'm just letting myself sit with the for now part."
She squeezes my hand. "Sit with it. Then come back."
I look at her. She's looking at Harper, and her face is doing something soft, and I think this is the first time in a month she's let her face fully relax.
"I love you," I say.
"I love you too."
I turn to look at Harper for a beat longer before Nora tugs me gently away from the nursery, and we head back downstairs.
We move to the living room, and I sink onto the couch, pulling Nora down beside me. For a moment, we sit here, the months of fear and hiding finally done.
"I can't believe it's over," she says quietly.
"It's not over. But the part that mattered is over." I pull her closer. "And you and me? We don't have to wait anymore."
"That laundry room seems like a lifetime ago," she says.
"Yeah." I cup her face. "But this is different. We're not hiding now. We're not scared. We're—"
"Free," she finishes.
"Free."
She climbs onto my lap, straddling me, her hands sliding into my hair. "Show me what it's like now that we're free."
I kiss her, deep and slow, so different from that first time in the laundry room. This isn't desperate or rushed. This is savoring, celebrating, claiming her without fear.
Her hips rock against me, a slow grind that makes me groan into her mouth.
"Fuck, Red. I've missed this. Missed having you like this."
"We've only done this once." She does it again, rolling her hips in a way that has my cock hardening instantly. "And it was so fast. We didn't have time to—"
"To enjoy it properly." My hands slide under her shirt, finding bare skin. "To take our time. To make it last."
She grinds down harder, and I can feel her heat through our clothes, can feel how wet she already is.
"I've thought about that day so many times," she breathes. "About how you felt inside me. How desperate we both were."
"We're still desperate, baby. But now we don't have to rush." I grip her hips, guiding her movements. "Now I can savor making you fall apart."
"Tyler—"
"Tell me what you need."
"This. You. Just—" She's grinding against me harder now, chasing friction. "I need to feel you again. Need to know this is real."
"It's real. We're real. Harper's safe and you're mine, and we have forever." I rock up against her, matching her rhythm. "And I'm going to spend that forever making you come over and over until you can't remember what it was like to want me and not be able to have me."
"God, yes." Her movements are getting more desperate now, her breath coming faster. "I'm already so close—"
"Then come for me, Red. Right here on my lap. Let me feel you fall apart."
I grip her hips tighter, grinding her down against my cock through our clothes, and the friction combined with the filthy words has her tipping over the edge fast.
"Tyler… Fuck… I'm—"
She comes with my name on her lips, her whole body shaking, and watching her lose control pushes me right over with her. I come in my pants, groaning her name, my hips jerking up against hers.
We stay like this for a moment, both panting, both processing what just happened.
“That was—” Nora starts, her voice breathy and a little bit dazed as she leans her forehead against mine. She’s still vibrating, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm against my chest that matches my own.
“That was overdue,” I finish for her, my hands still hooked tight around her hips.
My jeans are ruined, soaked through and heavy, but I couldn't care less.
The weight of the world just lifted off my shoulders in that courtroom, and apparently, my body decided it was time to celebrate the only way it knew how.
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her hair is a mess, her cheeks are flushed a deep, beautiful pink, and her eyes are dark with a mix of shock and pure, unadulterated want.
“We just acted like teenagers,” she whispers, a small, shaky laugh escaping her lips.
“Yeah. Well.” I brush a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering on her cheekbone.
“Teenagers have to worry about their parents coming home. We don’t.
We have a house. We have a lock on that door upstairs.
And I’ve got a hell of a lot more in me than one quick round through my denim. ”
I see the moment her pupils blow out. She swallows hard, her hands sliding from my shoulders to the back of my neck, her nails grazing the sensitive skin there.
“Is that right?”
“That’s a promise.” I stand up with her still wrapped around me, my muscles groaning at the sudden shift in weight, but I don't care. I want her close. I want to feel the heat of her skin through her clothes until I can get her out of them. “That whole thing was hot as fuck. But Red? I’m nowhere near done with you. Last time was fast and desperate. This time, I’m taking my time. ”
I carry her upstairs, the silence of the house wrapped around us like a blanket. We pass Harper’s door, and for a split second, I look at the wood and feel that surge of fierce, protective love. She’s safe. Everything is okay.
I kick the bedroom door shut—our bedroom now—and lay her out on the mattress. I don’t join her immediately. I stand at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning my shirt with steady fingers, watching the way her eyes track every inch of skin I reveal.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, finally shedding the ruined jeans and settling between her thighs. I’m still in my boxers, the heat of her radiating through the thin fabric. “Last time I barely got to look at you. Too desperate. Too fast. But now—now I’m going to map every inch of you.”
I start at her ankles. It’s a slow, agonizing crawl. I peel her leggings down, my hands lingering on the soft curve of her calves, the dip of her ankles. I press my mouth to the inside of her knee, and she gasps, her back arching off the sheets.
“Tyler—”
“Shh. Let me worship you, Red.”
I work my way up, my hands sliding under the hem of her shirt, gathering the fabric until I can pull it over her head.
She’s not wearing a bra, and the sight of her—pale skin, dark nipples already peaked and waiting—makes my throat go dry.
I take one into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip, biting just hard enough to make her whimper.