I handed it over to him, then I walked down the path to a large box. I looked up at Roman in confusion, my eyes wide.
“Open it, love.”
I did.
There were boxing gloves and a note. “Speak up. Open your heart to me at all times. Tell me what’s on your beautiful mind. We discuss our dreams, our fears, and our future together. We’ll make it through any storm if we trust and build with each other.”
My breath shook on the way out. I held the note like it might fall apart if I squeezed too hard. Communication. Real communication. Not the kind that comes after damage, but the type that prevents it.
I reached for his hand. “Roman, baby, th-this is beautiful.”
He brought my hands to his lips and kissed them softly, lingering like he was honoring my tenderness and not rushing me through it. His mouth was warm. His reverence was warmer. “Which one is it, Connie?”
“Communication.”
“Good girl.” His voice lowered, sweet and firm at the same time. “You should check in that bag, too, mama.” He winked at me again.
I looked at the side of the box, and there was a bag with a book inside. I removed it to find a copy of Mya’sKrash & Bern,and I swooned so hard I felt it in my knees.
“I absolutely wished Krash would’ve communicated with Bern better than he did when they were in college, but it all worked out for my boo.”
I handed him my book, and he hiked his eyebrow up, mouth twitching like he was holding back a smile. “Say, baby, you notgonna have too many more boos with these book niggas, you feel me?”
I laughed, and it came out light, honest, girlish.
He kissed my temple as he pulled me in for a hug that felt like shelter. His arms didn’t just hold me. Theycoveredme. My body relaxed before my brain could even analyze why. He led me to another area.
“Last stop, gorgeous. Check this one out,” he clamored with a big grin on his handsome face.
I grabbed the last note and opened it. Tears immediately streamed down my face as I read it.
“I’ll never hurt you, harm you, disrespect you, embarrass you, or cause you dismay. I’ll lay the world at your feet and make things easier for you from day to day. I will do all these things because you mean the world to me. I’ll revere you, right after Big G, right where you’re supposed to be.”
“This is . . . respect, baby. Thank you. This was so intentional. I loved everything about this.”
I hugged him, and he wrapped me in his arms. He kissed my forehead and held me like he wasn’t letting a moment slip through our fingers.
“I wanted to wait until after dinner, but I must do it now while you’re in my arms.” His voice dropped, softened, and turned sincere in a way that made my stomach flip.
“Solè Constellation . . . My Connie Stevens, my Pretty Little Dipper, will you do me the honor of being my woman officially? I know we haven’t known each other for long, but my spirit and heart are calm and at peace when you are around. I always want to be around you. When I’m not around you, I’m counting down ’til I’m around your beautiful ass again. But what’s your middle name, baby?”
We both laughed, the sound breaking through my crying. Even in the seriousness, he still made room for joy.
“My middle name is Amor.”
“Of course it is. Amor . . . Yeah, that fits you to the T because you don’t just have love; you practice it. You give care like it’s intentional, kindness like its principle. That name wasn’t random. It was assigned.”
My throat tightened once again, the way it did when something tender hit too close to the truth. Heat climbed into my cheeks, and I knew my freckles were illuminated in the way he loved. Not from embarrassment, but from being seen so clearly it made my chest ache. I stared at him like I was trying to memorize the moment. It felt as if I looked away too fast, it might disappear.
“Roman . . .” I finally managed, and even my voice came out softer than I meant it to.
I swallowed, shook my head once, and pressed my palm to his chest like I needed something steady to hold on to. My eyes glossed over, and I hated how fast it happened, but I couldn’t stop it.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I whispered, barely audible.
He was still looking at me, patient and sure, like he wasn’t asking for a performance, just letting me feel it. So, I did. I nodded, lips trembling into a small, touched smile, and let the silence speak for me while my heart tried to catch up.
He walked me to a nearby bench, sat down, pulled me onto his lap, then turned my face toward him. His hands framed me carefully, like he understood I wasn’t fragile, but I was precious.
