Epilogue
“I WOULDN’T HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY.”
O rielle had been in a weird mood all day.
She wasn’t sure if it was because her cycle was about to start or the fact that Cheyla and Zoey basically told her that they weren’t her friends anymore.
They hadn’t said those words or anything close to that, but that’s what Orielle heard when they both told her they couldn’t make it to dinner with her tonight.
It wasn’t anything fancy, but Orielle wanted to celebrate for surviving what felt like basic training for the military.
Once her contract was signed and Zahir became her agent, life hadn’t slowed down just like he told her it wouldn’t.
She’d just gotten back from Atlanta, after being in New York, and before that, she was in California for two weeks attending a writer’s camp.
As soon as her plane landed at MCI, Orielle went home, soaked in the tub, and slept on and off for a week straight. She felt like she’d done enough traveling, sitting in on meetings, and introducing herself to last for the rest of her life. She was exhausted, but her gratefulness outweighed it.
And now all she wanted to do was pop back out with her girls, and she expected them to come out like always.
She cursed them out for being responsible adults and then told them how much she missed them.
Cheyla and Zoey weren’t the only ones to decline her offer to go to dinner, either.
Some declined, and a few even called today to cancel.
It was like no one had time for her now that she had time. No one but her man.
“I see that frown is turned upside down now that you’ve eaten,” he said, smirking.
Orielle grinned. Najee wasn’t about to watch her pout, so he scheduled them a private dinner somewhere else.
Like always, he made shit shake. She claimed she wasn’t hungry on the drive there, but Najee knew better.
She’d been talking about Mediterranean food all week, so that’s what he made sure was on her plate.
The head chef of the evening had even been kind enough to cook a dish they no longer sold, but she wanted. So, yes. Her mood was much better.
“I don’t know who the cooks are tonight, but goodness, everything was so good,” she praised, rubbing her belly.
She’d put on some extra pounds over the months, thanks to good eating, loving, traveling, and working out, and it had her body looking so right.
She swore Najee was the cause of her fluffiness, thanks to happy relationship weight, and he gladly took the credit.
The black dress she had on was sickening, with her titties sitting up practically begging for him to put his face in her cleavage.
Had she not been in a crappy mood earlier, he would’ve done just that before bending her over and getting a quickie in before they left the house, but it wasn’t always about sex.
He knew when to leave her alone, and when to nail her ass to the mattress when she was ovulating and putting his dick in every hole in her body every thirty minutes.
Najee felt used like a mothafucka on those days, but he loved pleasing her. That was the balance in relationships because Orielle wanted to plug her ears when he talked her head off about cars and logistics all day as if he were a damn mechanic. Then, they’d watch their favorite show together.
“Yeah. They threw down tonight,” Najee agreed, scooting his empty plate away. “You want something sweet?”
Yawning, Orielle shook her. “No. I’m literally so full. You can order something, though.”
“You sure? They got some good options on here.”
He had the menu in front of his face so she couldn’t see his expression. Had she, she would’ve been asking him what the hell was wrong.
“I’m sure. I actually need to go to the restroom,” she said, pushing away from the table and standing up.
“Wait!” Najee said, his voice firm. Orielle squinted as he looked around for their waiter. Thankfully, he wasn’t too far away. “Aye, my man,” he called out, waving him over.
A man with black dress pants and a white-collar shirt rushed over. “Yes? What can I get for you?”
“My lady needs to go to the restroom, but the ones in the main area are out of service, right?” Najee asked.
The waiter looked confused, as if it were his first time hearing the news, because it was. To his knowledge, they were working just fine.
A voice went off in the earpiece he was wearing, and he swallowed hard before stammering, “Um. Yeah. I just got the word that they are down. But you can follow me to the manager’s restroom.”
Hesitantly, Orielle looked at Najee, and before she could say anything, he said, “Come on. Show us where it is.”
“Right this way.”
“While we’re gone, gon’ head and bring me out that key lime pie special,” Najee told him.
“Sure thing. I’ll have it right out,” he said, and led the way to the office.
Smiling, Orielle linked her hand in his.
When they made it to the office, Najee flipped on the light switch to the restroom and checked to see if it was clean and that there wasn’t anything fishy inside before urging her with a head nod to go ahead.
Orielle looked over her shoulder when he stepped behind her.
“You’re coming in with me?” she asked.
“Now it’s a problem. Didn’t I just hold your hand this morning?”
She rolled her eyes and walked in. Closing the door behind him, Najee leaned against it and watched as she struggled to lift her dress over her hips.
“Thick ass,” he said, grinning.
Tugging her thong down, Orielle squatted and sighed with content as she released her bladder. “Shut up. My hips are spreading because you keep sliding that thing in me.”
“I thought you liked it when I did that. Tsk, tsk. You’ve been lying this whole time.”
Orielle grinned as she wiped and tossed the tissue into the bowl. It flushed automatically seconds later, as she situated herself and went to the sink. Najee pushed away from the door and came to stand behind her in the mirror.
“Don’t start anything in here, sir,” Orielle warned as his arms circled her waist.
He grinned and kissed her neck while massaging her titties. “I’m not. I’m just admiring you. I’m proud of you.”
Orielle smiled. “Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you, too.”
“We look good as fuck together,” he said, humping her.
Giggling, Orielle agreed. “Mhm. We do. Let’s take a picture.”
Najee pulled his phone out and went to the camera app. Instead of taking pictures, he decided to record a video. Orielle finished drying her hands and applied lotion before glossing her lips.
“Aye. Tell the people who you are,” Najee said, smirking with the camera flipped so it was on both of them.
Orielle leaned into his chest, feeling so shy all of a sudden. “What people? Who is this for?”
“I was just saying that. It’s for me,” he said.
As if he didn’t have enough videos of her doing everything from singing to eating, to dancing, to slobbering on his chest, and even ones of her when she was head deep into one of her journals, writing music. The more the merrier, he believed.
“Oh. Okay. Well, hey Najee. My name is Orielle. The world knows me as Rielle Summers, the singer, songwriter, and lover girl. But you call me your Pretty Girl.”
“And RiRi,” Najee added.
“And RiRi,” she repeated, giggling. “Um, right now we’re in the bathroom of Geona’s because I had to pee, and of course, I can’t do that alone. So, here you are with me.”
Najee chuckled. “You ain’t tell me to get out. Plus, I was making sure there wasn’t anybody in here on some weird shit.”
“Always my protector.” Orielle melted more into him.
Najee kissed her cheek. “Always, baby. I’ma do that for life.” He smacked her on the ass and stopped recording, then washed his hands. Walking to the door, he used the foot hook to pull it open, and Orielle walked ahead of him.
When they made it to their table, Najee’s key lime pie was waiting for him. Orielle barely glanced at it before sitting in her chair, and Najee took his.
“I don’t see why they call it the key lime special. What’s so special about it?” she asked, taking a sip of her water. Picking up the plate, Najee handed it to her.
“I don’t know. Look at it and tell me,” he encouraged.
Wanting to cure her curiosity, Orielle grabbed the plate. Flipping it around, she said, “They wrote something on?—”
Gasping, she damn near tossed the plate in the air when she finished reading what the words in chocolate sauce said. With trembling hands, her chest hiccupped as she looked across the table at Najee, who was smirking. On cue, To Love and Be Loved by Annie Tracy floated through the speakers.
“I got you, huh?” Najee asked and stood up, walking around to her side.
Orielle nodded, unable to contain the tears pooling in her eyes.
She hadn’t been expecting Najee to propose to her at all.
Especially not this soon. Najee knew he wanted her to be his wife, but more than anything, he wanted to be Orielle’s husband.
It wasn’t too soon in his eyes. He’d spent years with someone for it to go nowhere, so time meant nothing to him.
He knew what his heart felt and what his gut told him, and he led with that. He always had.
Orielle wanted to glance around the room they were in, but she was frozen in place. Her body had literally locked up from shock, and her hands were trembling. Doing some deep breaths, she told herself to relax, and she was finally able to lower the plate.
This entire time, she thought he just wanted to celebrate, but this man had actually planned a whole, intimate proposal.
No crowd, no family or friends yet, just the two of them for now.
Najee only wanted her presence and for her to focus on him.
Orielle expected the writing on the plate to say something like ‘Congrats’ or even ‘Enjoy,’ but she never thought it’d say, ‘Can I Change Your Last Name ?’