Zaire stiffened from surprise, then melted faster than he ever would’ve admitted aloud.
Mya whispered into his shirt, loud enough for him to hear but soft enough that the world couldn’t take it from her. “I told my Mama you ain’t broken.”
Zaire’s throat closed.
His chest tightened.
A tear fell before he could stop it.
He cleared his throat, inhaling slowly like he’d been punched in the soul.
“Com’ere,” he said, picking her up fully.
Mya buried her face into his shoulder.
Meadow stood beside him, her hand touching the center of his back.
She didn’t speak.
Her presence said everything.
I see you…I’m proud of you…I’m yours.
The families stayed for a while turning it into a big party.
The kids refused to leave his side, making him laugh and even debating him on things he knew nothing about.
The day warmed up and the land bloomed.
And for the first time, Zaire felt like he was standing on something that wouldn’t sink underneath him.
Afew quiet weeks could change a whole life.
At least that’s what Meadow kept telling herself every morning she woke up and saw how much Green’s Driving Range had shifted since the chaos. The fence stood tall now…Black metal, clean lines, stretching along the perimeter like a promise. The land felt protected again. The bank had been cleared, the taxes were paid, and the reporters hadn’t come back since Zaire’s PR team handled the fallout and Ray ‘accidentally’ polished his shotgun on the porch for a week straight.
Lesha was back in Meadow’s room and had even started to make the room feel like home since she had no interest in leaving.
Zaire had even talked about selling his L.A. home, but Meadow told him not too. She wanted them to live in both places.
Zaire was calmer too. He’d been splitting his time between training, working with the contractors, sitting with Magnolia on her good days, and letting Meadow rest on the days where the weight of everything caught up with her.
Their nights were soft again…their mornings were quiet again...the fire between them was still there, still burning hot. But now it had a home, a place to sit down and grow.
Meadow wanted to give him something back.
Something that reminded him he was more than a man climbing out of survival mode, something that showed him he deserved romance too.
Which was why she was up at dawn, sneaking out of bed before Zaire could pull her back with that sleepy arm of his, he always draped across her waist. She threw on leggings, a hoodie, and tiptoed through the guests house.
Meadow had planned this date for a week. Paid deposits, booked pilots, picked snacks, and even practiced a speech in the bathroom mirror.
She wanted to get it right because Zaire was so deserving. The way he came into her life and actually shifted it. If she could give him the universe, she would.
By noon, she had the vintage Cadillac parked outside the guest house. Zaire stepped out right on time with a fresh haircut, white tee hugging his chest, gray sweats sitting low, and his chain glistening in the sun. His waves were showing off like they were trying to win their own tournament.
He stopped halfway down the steps when he saw her behind the wheel.
“You still don’t listen,” he hollered, rubbing his face. “You not supposed to be drivin’ me anywhere, cuh.”
