I didn’t speak—I couldn’t, I just stared at him.
Love opened the box, and I was staring at the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.
“I made this for you,” he said, voice thick. “I thought about each diamond placement, how it would sit on your finger, how your hospital gloves gonna tear open cause of that big ass rock in the middle. I want people to know that you are loved and have a nigga that don’t play about you.”
My hand shook in his; my eyes were blurry with tears that were begging to run down my face. Love wiped them away with a smile on my face.
“I love you, Islah. Will you marry me?” he finally asked.
Everything felt like it stopped. The harp, the waves, even my own breath slowed down. I stared at him, at the ring, then back at the man I knew was mine and only mine in every way.
“Yes!” I whispered, barely able to get out, tears were running freely now. “Yes, Love! I’ll marry you!”
He placed the ring on my finger with the biggest smile across his face that I had ever seen that nigga have, then wrapped me up in his arms, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around in the air.
In that moment, it hit me, all of it—the safety, the love, the certainty that was looking from Gio. I had it; I had that and so much more. With Love, I was finally where I needed to be.
After he put me down, he kissed me slow and deep, calming me in a way that never felt rushed.
We sat and listened to the harp while watching the waves crash onto the sand, with me wrapped in his arms, sipping champagne.
“You know,” Love said softly. “I have done a lot of shit in my life, and I just realized that everything I did was me taking chances. The one thing that I have been 100 percent about from the jump was you. I’m glad you trusted me.”
I looked up at Love, feelin’ like God gave him to me to save me from Gio, the streets, the doubts, my past. Every fear I had melted away in that moment, leaving only him—only us.
Chapter 34
She’s Mine
After that run-in with her on that rooftop, I kept my distance… but I didn’t stop watching.
I knew her routine by heart now. What time she went to work, what time off, her off days, where she liked to go with her friends. I had it all mapped out, but I didn’t make a move again—she wasn’t about to look at me the same way she did on that rooftop, making me look like a damn clown. Instead, I watched from a distance until one day I pulled up to the hospital like I normally did, parking in the same spots I had been in that gave me a good view of the door. I had my smoke, my snack, everything I needed to chill out there for a bit, but I didn’t see her.
I sat there, watching people go in and out, thinking she might have tried to trick me and taken a later shift and was gonna pop out any second.
But she didn’t.
I left, went to his store—his car wasn’t in front.
I shook my head, trying not to get too worked up, and went back to the hotel.
“Nigga, we need to talk,” Bully blurted out as soon as I walked through the door. I sucked my teeth and went to the fridge, pulling out a water bottle and walking off.
“Nigga, I don’t want to talk right now.” I left it at that and walked off to the room and laid back on the bed.
I couldn’t get Islah off my mind: her smile, the sound of her voice, her laugh, her touch. I missed her—I missed it all.
I didn’t want her back; I needed her back. I wasn’t gonna settle for her claiming another nigga as her man. She was made for me, and I was going to remind her.
I pulled my phone outta my pocket and scrolled through her pages: no pictures, no typed-up status, her pages were dead. I tossed it on the bed, trying to figure out what I could do next when Bully came bussin’ into the room.
“We need to get the fuck outta Atlanta,” he said, lookin’ pissed.
Kronic walked in slowly behind him, nodding his head. “Yeah, you done what you could.”
Them niggas went on talkin’, goin’ on about money, time, how long we been out here, like any of that shit mattered more than what the fuck I was there for.
I got off the bed, walked out to the living room, and like some bitches, them niggas followed behind me still talkin’.
