Aaliyah
I don’t think I’d ever laughed that hard in my life. My heels clicked unevenly against the Vegas strip as Fabe and I stumbled down the sidewalk, holding on to each other for balance. Neon lights blurred above us. We were sweating because the air was hot and dry, even at four in the morning.
I hadn’t been on vacation in years, and I had never been to Vegas. I’d gone full tourist mode the second we checked into the hotel. I’d been acting like it was my birthday instead of his.
We’d partied at Drai’s all night and finished two bottles between just the two of us. My head was spinning, my feet hurt, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
As we turned a corner, I stopped suddenly, tugging on Fabe’s hand. “Oh my God, look!”
He turned his head. “At what?”
I pointed across the street. The lights of a tiny white building glowed against the night. The neon sign blinked “Elvis Weddings—Open 24 Hours”.
“Oh my God, it’s one of those crazy Vegas chapels,” I slurred, giggling. “I’m finally seeing one in real life! Let’s go inside. I just wanna see it.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “You drunk as hell.”
“And you not?” I shot back, wobbling on my heels.
“Touché.”
We crossed the street, half-stumbling, half-laughing, until we made it to the front doors.
Inside, the place was even more ridiculous than I expected, but in the best way.
Everything was red velvet and gold trim.
There were plastic flowers everywhere, a sparkly white piano in the corner, and a cardboard cutout of Elvis by the front desk.
“Oh my God, this is so tacky,” I said, spinning around slowly. “I love it.”
A man in a powder-blue suit and a pompadour wig, clearly the “Elvis” of the operation, walked over to us with a grin as bright as the sign outside.
“Well, well,” he greeted with a deep and theatrical voice. “You two look like a couple in love. You here to get married?”
I laughed so hard I almost lost my balance. “Yes!” I said, holding up my hand dramatically. “Marry us, Elvis!”
Fabe was cracking up beside me.
Then, still giggling, I dropped to one knee right there on the red carpet and grabbed his hand. “Fabe…” I said through my laughter, drunkenly tilting over. “Will you marry me?”
He laughed, shaking his head, but said, “Yes, baby.”
I squealed, still laughing as he helped me back to my feet. But when I looked up, his face had changed. His smile softened and his eyes were focused in a way that sobered me up a little.
He took both my hands, squeezing them. “I’m serious.”
I blinked slowly. “About what?”
He leaned closer, still holding my hands. “I’m serious. We should get married.”
I stared at him, heart pounding against my ribs. “You’re drunk. You don’t mean that.”
He shrugged with a soft, bashful smile. “A drunk mind speaks a sober truth.”
“Elvis” was watching us from a few feet away, grinning like he was watching a rom-com movie he’d seen a hundred times.
“You’re already my wife in every way that matters. Nephew-Son is my son. You’re my peace. You’re my home. The only thing missing is a piece of paper and a ring.”
I just stared at him, feeling the world spinning a little slower all of a sudden. “You’re serious?”
He nodded once with his eyes locked on mine. “I’m dead serious.”
My heart was beating warm and wildly. I didn’t even think twice. I just smiled through the tears that suddenly filled my eyes and said, “Okay.”
He grinned, pulling me in and kissed my forehead. “So, that’s a yes?”
I was beaming. “That’s a yes.”
“Elvis” clapped his hands together, and his voice boomed, “Well, honey, let’s get y’all hitched!”
We both burst out laughing again, leaning into each other, dizzy, happy, and drunk off more than tequila.
It was crazy and impulsive but standing there with him in that little tacky Vegas chapel felt like the most right thing in the world.
When I woke up, my head was pounding like a drumline. The sunlight creeping through the curtains felt way too bright.
For a second, I couldn’t remember where I was. The ceiling was white, the sheets were incredibly soft and unfamiliar. Then I looked around and saw the marble floors, the gold-framed mirrors, the view of the Strip glittering through the windows, and it all came rushing back.
I groaned, rolling over, trying to piece together the night. Slowly, it all came back to me; the strip, the club, the bottles, the chapel… Elvis.
Then I felt the weight on my hand.
I lifted my left hand into the light and froze. It was a simple gold band that gleamed on my ring finger. I stared at it as everything from last night replayed in flashes.
Before I could process it, I heard his voice somewhere in the room. “You would think the chapel would have had better rings to choose from. As soon as we sober up, we’re getting real rings.”
I turned my head and damn near forgot how to breathe.
He was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, completely naked, dick swinging.
The morning light hit him just right, tracing over every hard line, muscle, and tattoo.
His body looked like something out of a dream.
Ink climbed his arms, down his ribs, over his chiseled abs, and broad chest. But his face was the part that always got me.
“Did we really—?” My voice bounced between disbelief and laughter.
He grinned nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we really did.”
He pointed toward the nightstand.
I followed his gaze, and saw a marriage license, signed and sealed, sitting next to a half-empty bottle of tequila and a crooked bouquet of fake red roses.
I covered my mouth, half laughing, half on the verge of tears. “Oh my God…”
He came over and slid into bed beside me. “You okay? You don’t regret it, do you?”
I turned toward him, shaking my head. “No. Not at all.”
Relief softened his eyes.
I looked down at the ring again, blushing. “I can’t believe I’m your wife.”
He pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve been yours, so it’s only fair that you’re officially all mine now for the rest of your life.”
I smiled against his chest.
Lying there, wrapped up in him, I was so thankful of how much I’d survived. Rah had broken me in ways I never thought I’d heal from. He made me forget who I was for a while. But Fabe reminded me. He showed me what it felt like to be authentically seen, protected, and loved.
I realized that every scar had led me to my forever.
I lifted my head, meeting his eyes. “You know you’re stuck with me now, right?”
A half-cocked grin spread on his face that made me melt. “Ain’t that the plan?”
I laughed softly, resting my hand on his chest, causing the gold ring to glint in the sunlight.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel haunted by my heartbreak. I just felt grateful. Because when I didn’t think it was possible, I’d found my happily ever after.