“Moyo. Are you okay?” Niyi asks. His tender voice brings me back into our bubble.
“Yes, one more question.”
“Please.”
“Did you just give up immortality for me?” It’s cheesy, and he might correct me on the technicalities, but it’s worth asking.
Relief washes over his features. His shoulders droop, his neck relaxes, and, most importantly, his smile returns.
“I always said I’d do anything for you. Who cares about controlling time with you at my side?” He grabs my other hand and pulls me close.
I don’t hesitate as I sink into the warm body I’ve missed so much over the past couple of weeks. My arms go around his neck, the white of my bodice blending with his white tux. Niyi’s arms find my waist, taking their rightful place. I look into his eyes, and he stares into mine.
“Can I askyoua question?” he asks with a goofy grin on his face.
“Sure,” I giggle.
“It’s almost New Year’s, so I must ask, are we at the kiss-and-goodnight part of the evening? Or are we gonna wait and do a countdown on New Year’s Eve?”
It takes me a moment to place the words I said to him weeks ago. “Doyou remember everything I say?” I ask between fits of laughter.
“I’d be a fool not to.” His arms tighten around my waist, and he pulls me even closer. “You’re the light of my life, Sunshine. I’d be a fool not to place you at the center of it,” he says, his voice dropping to a low bass and his eyes filling with adoration.
He leans in, and I can’t contain my smile when his lips meet mine. The taste of shitty wine gives way to sweeping tongues and roaming hands.
I pull back. “Still your favorite?”
He wiggles his nose against mine. “Always and forever.”
Epilogue
Date #4
Niyi
I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS LIFE. THE CREDITS OF OUR THIRDtwo-hour movie roll and so does my back. I know I was insistent on the movie marathon, but I grossly underestimated the mental fortitude and resilience needed to watch four straight movies.
Moyo has been easing me into it with her twelve-week, specially-curated “Make-Niyi-Fall-in-Love-with-Horror” course. The initial plan was to have the marathon at the end of the twelve weeks, but my unwavering desire to spend every moment with Moyo persuaded her to up the timeline, given I’m now a pro at a double feature.
Turns out I should’ve stuck to Moyo’s plan.
Moyo places our handmade popcorn bowls on the coffee table and heads to the kitchen to grab another pack of Boom Chicka Pop’s Sweet and Salty Kettle Corn. In her absence, I stretch even more because, regardless of how unfit I am for the movie-binge-watching life, I am built for the cuddling-with-Moyo-for-hours-on-end life.
My stunning girlfriend saunters in and, as if seeing her for the first time, she takes my breath away.
Girlfriend.
Every day since the Gala has been the best day of my life. I spend my days working on Ceramics Central items with Aaron; hanging with Merc and Vee if they catch me at home or rather, if I catch them using my living room as a third place; and after work, catching up with my Sunshine.
“You ready?”
I stifle a yawn. “Absolutely. Bring it on.”
As we’ve done throughout my horror-movie training, I turn away while Moyo selects a new movie from the floating shelves I built for her. When she’s done loading it up, she pulls me back onto the couch before taking her rightful place between my legs.
I kiss her hair as our limbs intertwine.
We’re barely through the opening credits ofBoneswhen Moyo says, “You’re tired, aren’t you?”
