Sometimes love begins with a spark. Ours began with a phone call.

A mutual friend, attorney Nicole Cogan, called Cleve one day and said, “Hey! You know what? You and Tammie Slay would make a good couple.” Cleve didn’t let that idea sit for long. He picked up the phone the same day, called Tammie, repeated Nicole’s words back to her, and added with a little charm and confidence, “So… let’s chat about that.”

That simple invitation made Tammie smile. It felt playful, unexpected, and strangely natural. Let’s chat. And so we did.

From the beginning, the connection felt different. Tammie asked her never-ending, deeply reflective, philosophically rich questions. Cleve didn’t flinch. He welcomed them. He enjoyed the depth, the thinking, the way conversation seemed to open more of who she was.

For Cleve, the early sign was something he wasn’t expecting: Tammie’s femininity, her beauty, and the way she somehow intimidated him in the best way. She carried something he needed—a quiet strength paired with warmth.

Months later, after love had already taken root between us, we were driving in the car when everything shifted. Tammie paused mid-conversation, looked over at Cleve with clarity in her eyes, and said softly, “I like you.”

Cleve froze—just for a moment—and then something in him awakened. “Now that,” he said slowly, “is something very different. I like you too. That’s actually deeper than love.” Then, with the steadiness of someone who finally sees the whole picture, he added, “Tammie, you are my best friend.”

That moment changed everything. Love had already been spoken, but this was something richer. It was the recognition that companionship, friendship, trust, and ease had woven themselves as deeply as affection.

It was the quiet knowing: This is my person.