Bree & Cazmir
Grief is a funny thing. Some days it feels like a weight sitting on your chest. Other days it sneaks up on you in the middle of something ordinary—a phone call you almost make before remembering nobody’s on the other end anymore, an empty chair at Sunday dinner, or hearing somebody mention your father’s name on television like they knew the man behind it.
They didn’t. Every day another headline surfaces.
Another article. Another interview. Another “exclusive” telling the world who Chief Elias supposedly was.
According to the news, he was connected to things I still refuse to believe.
The internet has already judged him, convicted him, and buried him all over again, but that’s the problem with people who’ve only known your loved ones through headlines.
I knew my father. I knew the man who taught me to look another man in the eye when I shook his hand, who believed your word should carry more weight than your signature, and who never missed a birthday, graduation, or any moment he thought mattered in my life.
Maybe one day I’ll learn every truth about the man he was before I came along.
Maybe I won’t. But until that day comes, I refuse to let strangers and headlines rewrite the memories I lived.
They’ll remember the man they think they uncovered. I’ll remember the father who raised me.
Losing him nearly broke my mother. Watching her pack up the only home she’d shared with him was harder than I expected, but I understood why she couldn’t stay there. Too many memories lived inside those walls, and not enough of them belonged to the future.
After I bought her another house just a few streets over from Mama Sina, the two of them somehow became thick as thieves.
They drink coffee together almost every morning, gossip like they’ve known each other for decades, and argue over whose turn it is to host Sunday dinner.
Seeing my mother smile again has been one of the few bright spots to come out of an otherwise difficult season.
Work has been keeping me busy too. Myles Tech continues expanding faster than any of us imagined, and stepping into a larger leadership role has challenged me in ways I genuinely appreciate.
Kade trusted me with more responsibility than I ever asked for, and every day I walk into that building determined to prove his faith wasn’t misplaced.
Building something that will outlive all of us has a way of changing how you measure success.
None of it, however, compares to what Bree has brought into my life.
People spend years searching for peace, convinced it’s a destination they’ll eventually arrive at or a season they’ll someday reach, but loving Bree taught me something different.
Peace isn’t always a place. Sometimes it’s a person who walks into your life, stays when everything around you is falling apart, and quietly reminds you that you’re still worthy of being loved.
Somewhere along the way, without either of us making some grand declaration, she became mine.
Bree stood beside me through one of the hardest chapters of my life without asking me to be anything other than the man she already believed I was.
She never tried to fix my grief, rush my healing, or convince me everything would be okay.
She simply stayed. Somewhere between funeral arrangements, late-night conversations, and sitting in silence when words weren’t enough, I realized there wasn’t another version of my future that made sense unless she was standing in it.
It wasn’t simply that I wanted to marry Bree, I already knew that. The real realization was that I couldn’t picture another chapter of my life without her standing beside me. Once that truth settled in, there wasn’t much left to think about. Naturally, the first people I called were the fellas.
One Saturday morning turned into eighteen holes of golf with Kade, Yayo, Cassian, Marcus, and by the time we reached the back nine, I’d officially been roasted for everything from my proposal plans, to how long it’d taken me to finally get here.
Marcus laughed harder than anybody, which is why he’s standing beside me as my best man when the day finally comes.
As much as the fellas had opinions, I knew that decision belonged to the four women who knew Bree better than anybody—Ysis, Kayla, Nia, and Lauren.
The Wolfpack turned what I thought would be a quick stop into an entire afternoon of comparing diamonds, debating settings, arguing over bands, and making me explain every detail of my proposal.
I learned more about engagement rings in four hours than I ever cared to know, but watching all four of them light up the moment one particular ring landed in my hand told me everything I needed.
Nobody had to say a word. The moment that ring settled into my hand, I looked down at it and everything else disappeared.
I didn’t need another opinion, another diamond, or another jewelry case opened in front of me because I already knew, that was Bree’s ring.
The proposal is planned, the location is booked, and the ring is hidden somewhere she’ll never think to look.
Everybody who needs to know has already sworn to secrecy, although knowing Bree, she’ll probably figure out half of it before I ever get down on one knee.
I’m just hoping she leaves me one surprise, because the rest of my life begins with one question, and if God is willing, it’ll be answered with one simple word.
“Yes.”