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Chapter 112 – Amara's POV
"Wrapped in Him"
The blanket of silence that surrounded us wasn't heavy. It was comforting — like a soft echo of everything we didn't have to say out loud anymore.
Ethan's arm was wrapped around me again as we sat on his couch, warm from the sun streaming through the window. The television was playing something we both weren't watching. My cheek rested against his shoulder, and his fingers were gently tracing circles on my arm.
Neither of us wanted to move. And for once… I didn't feel like I had to.
I let my eyes close for a moment, letting the weight of everything sink in — not the burden kind of weight, but the safe kind. Like I could finally exhale.
"Still with me?" Ethan's voice rumbled from his chest.
I smiled against him. "Barely. I might melt into you."
"I won't complain."
I tilted my head back to look up at him. His hair was still messy, his jaw shadowed with stubble. His eyes were warm, lazy — peaceful. Like a man who'd finally stopped running.
"Thanks for today," I whispered.
"You're welcome," he said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "You deserve days like this. Always."
I blinked slowly, staring at him. "You called the office and told them to give me the day off."
He smiled. "Yeah."
"You could've gotten in trouble for that."
"I'm the CEO, Amara."
"Still."
"I wanted you here," he said simply. "Not across town acting like nothing happened between us."
I let that sit between us for a moment before nodding. "I wanted to be here too."
And it was the truth.
For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel conflicted about us. I didn't feel afraid of what would happen next. We'd already broken, already walked away from each other once. And yet… here we were again.
But stronger.
Not perfect — just real.
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We stayed like that for a long time. Talking. Not talking. Breathing.
There was something about being wrapped in Ethan's arms that made the rest of the world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Like all the chaos, the heartbreak, the confusion from last year had finally faded into something we'd learned from.
He kissed my cheek and gently nudged me. "Want lunch?"
I made a soft sound. "Mmm. I want you to carry me to the kitchen and cook for me again."
He chuckled. "That's not how days off work."
"It is when you forced me to take it."
"I thought I was being romantic."
"You were. But now I expect royal treatment."
He stood and stretched. "Fine. Pizza?"
"With extra cheese."
"And pineapple?"
I gave him a look. "You're lucky I'm still here."
He winked and grabbed his phone to order. "Noted."
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By the time the food arrived, we were on the floor, sitting cross-legged like two teenagers hiding from the world. We ate out of the box, argued over the right way to fold pizza slices, and made dumb jokes we were both too tired to laugh hard at — but laughed anyway.
It was stupid. And sweet. And everything I never knew I missed until now.
I leaned back against the couch, wiping my hands with a napkin and watching him. Just watching.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged. "I guess I didn't expect us to feel this… easy."
He set his box down. "It was never supposed to be hard."
"No," I agreed. "But it was."
"I made it that way."
I paused, watching the guilt flicker in his eyes.
"And I did too," I admitted. "We both pulled away. We both gave up too soon."
He nodded. "But we didn't walk away forever."
"No." I smiled faintly. "We didn't."
He reached for my hand and laced our fingers together.
I felt the warmth of his touch. Not just the heat — the emotion behind it.
"I still remember the morning after we first—" I stopped.
He didn't.
He waited.
I looked at our hands. "I left without saying a word. I thought I was protecting myself, but the truth was... I didn't want to face what it meant."
"What did it mean to you?" he asked quietly.
"That I was falling for someone who made me feel too much, too fast." My throat tightened. "And I was scared of what that would do to me."
He squeezed my hand. "And now?"
I looked up at him. "Now I'm still scared. But it doesn't feel like I'm falling. It feels like I've landed."
The tension in his shoulders eased. He pulled me into him, his arms wrapping tightly around me.
"I'll catch you every time," he whispered.
And I believed him.
This wasn't just a rebound. Or leftover emotions from a past we never closed properly.
This was something new. Built on honesty. Forgiveness. Time.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest again.
"I like this version of you," I murmured.
He kissed the top of my head. "I like this version of us."
And for the first time in months, I let myself believe that maybe… just maybe… we were finally getting it right.
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