Page 83 of American Love Story

He smiled again and he leaned back on the couch. “No, Cindy was upset that I pulled out of the race, but she also knows that she should’ve never pushed me into it like that. And that we all have a lot to answer this community for.” He sighed, and even though his eyes looked tired, they had a fire in them that I hadn’t seen there before. “As for the interview, I had to say that, because you were right, that us keeping quiet is not going to make things any better. I have to step up, we all do. Day called me tonight and said he wants to have a meeting and talk about doing anti-racism training with recruits that we’d talked about.”

I nodded, surprised at the news. “Holy shit, that’s huge.”

“It’s a start.” There was that strong voice that I’d heard only in the courtroom, the one that said, “I will get this done.”

“He wants to work with some community organizations that do this work, ask for their expertise. I was hoping you could help with that, or if you can’t, at least put us in touch with some of the ones you work with.”

“Yeah, of course. I’d be happy to help.”

Instead of answering, he leaned over, grabbed my sweater and pulled me in for a slow and chaste kiss, as if he needed to work himself up to being like we’d been before.

“You could be it for me, Patrice. You know that right?” he told me in a clear, strong voice. Brave as he always was to show me his heart, even when I’d handled it so poorly.

But this time I would not waste another minute, second guessing this enormous gift I’d been given. “Iknow, you’re it for me. I’ve known it since that day at the Brew and Wine festival last summer.”

He smiled and shook his head as he got close enough to press our foreheads together, “Now, I knowthatis bullshit, but I appreciate you saying it.”

I smiled again, in that helpless way that only happened with Easton, “It’s true. I knew it then and I know it now. I’m here,aren’t I? Like Nesto’s been telling me since I took the Cornell job, I could front like I was here for a million different reasons, but I knew very well that one big one was you.”

This time, the smile was big and the kiss was long and deep. When we pulled apart, the glint in his eyes looked a lot like my future, “That’s a good place to start.”

epilogue

Six Months Later

easton

“How am I expected to be studious when you’re bare chested and wearing your hot teacher glasses?” I complained to Patrice as I walked out of his bathroom.

Patrice just shook his head and smiled at me while eying my own bare chest over those glasses that made him look even more delicious than normal. “You’re a mess.”

“Yeah, but I’m your mess.”

“Yes, you are.” That got me another sweet smile. Those happened a lot lately. Patrice Denis had sweet smiles and now I got to see them all the time. My heart literally skipped as I hurried to finish up so I could get in bed with him.

We’d come back from the gym and were now in the “before bed routine.” We had that now. The last six months had been a remaking of us, together and individually. We’d worked hard on finding ways to be there for each other as we decided who we would be together.

I loved where we’d arrived, even if this new chapter of Patrice and I involved couples therapy, with homework.

“I’ll get into bed in a sec, babe, I’m ready to work.” I made a show of taking my towel off and sliding on a pair of boxers as he gave me an amused look.

“Are you going to be serious? We have to focus.” Patrice grumbled, as I fidgeted on the bed, arranging myself as close tohim as possible while still giving him enough room to write in the notebook he had on his lap.

“I am, I swear, I am just advocating that we figure out a ‘strip poker’ version.” I wasn’t whining so much as being bratty enough to get him riled into messing around with me. When he turned to look at me, he scoffed just as he tugged me so that I was sitting between his legs, my back pressed to his chest.

“Here,” he said, placing the notebook, pen, and sheet from our therapist in my hands. He pressed his lips to my temple as he pointed at the paper. The heat of him made it hard for me to think. Because after almost a year since we started again, and countless nights of getting as much of him as I wanted, being close to him still made me breathless.

He cleared his throat, commanding my attention, and ran a finger over the paper I was holding. “Today we’re supposed to think about shared qualities.” The way he said it, like the fact that we could even do this, was a blessing, made my chest tighten. I looked up and found him looking down at me with what I assume was the same lovesick expression on my own face.

I spoke with my lips pressed to his. “I’m so grateful we get to do this.” I didn’t have to tell him what I meant—that we’d been able to make this work, to makesuswork.

“Same. I love you,bébé.” There was no hesitation in his words, or in the way his eyes locked with mine when he said it.

Since I’d dropped out of the DA race, so much had changed for me. I’d stayed in my job, determined to use the power I had to actually make changes in how we dealt with racial justice in the county. My first step, with the new DA’s blessing, was heading an initiative to work more closely with advocacy groups in the region.

We were sitting and listening to the struggle that minorities faced in our communities and how law enforcement was falling short. We’d been building bridges into parts of the county thatwe’d neglected for too long. I’d learned more about myself and the kind of prosecutor I wanted to be in the last six months than I had in the previous five years. I wouldn’t say being with Patrice had made me do it, but his presence in my life had certainly been the catalyst for me to take bolder steps. To examine how I wanted to show up in my job. To live up to the responsibility I’d been given. I had to be humble enough to admit that being an ally in words but not action was not enough, and in the end, I hadn’t learned how to be one for every person I was tasked with serving. But I was determined to do better.

A rumbling sound got my focus back on the man in question, as he gently pressed on my chest. “Did I lose you?”