Chapter 12 #2
Reece looked at me then, her expression warm and sure. “Solè, Big Bro said you are the first woman who made him feel like he could rest without letting his guard down. The first person who made him feel safe enough to be soft and still be strong.”
My chest ached.
“He said you didn’t ask him to be less. You just asked him to be real.”
Reagan nodded once. “Facts.”
The room chuckled softly.
Reece smiled, then went on. “I admire Solè because she loves the same way she teaches—with patience, care, and belief. She listens, she shows up, and she makes space for people to grow.”
She paused, letting that land.
“And I admire my brother because he loves with discipline and intention. He always has.”
Reece lifted her glass, her voice steady. “So, on behalf of Reagan and me, we are proud of you both. We are happy you found each other. And we believe in your love because we’ve seen what it looks like when it’s lived out loud.”
Reagan turned back to the mic. “And Solè makes Roman softer. Not weak, just softer . . . He smiles more. I’ve never seen him smile so much in all my life. I’ve never seen a dark-skinned Black man blush the way he does when Solè is around, like . . . ever.”
Roman exhaled through his nose, shaking his head like he was fighting tears and laughter at the same time.
Reagan and Reece stood together, smiling gently. “Congratulations.”
The room erupted—not loud, not chaotic, but deep, respectful, and full.
Roman pulled both girls into a hug as they stepped away.
“That was beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick.
Reagan smirked. “She ate.”
Reece shrugged lightly. “I write.”
Everybody laughed and applauded.
Roman leaned down and murmured in my ear, “Who you think is next, baby? If Bryce gets up there and starts crying, I’m revoking his card.”
I elbowed him. “You better hush.”
He kissed my temple. “I’m just saying.”
The DJ cleared his throat. “Okay, . . . now somebody else who’s been waiting for this moment. Nana Nan, come on up here.”
NanNan stood slowly. The room rose with her, not because they had to, but because respect stood up before you even thought about it.
She approached the mic with a quiet authority only elders carried, and when she looked at me, her eyes shimmered.
“My baby,” she said softly.
I was already crying.
NanNan took a breath. “Y’all know I don’t do long speeches, because I’m from the generation where we say what we mean, and everybody better listen and go sit their tail down.”
Laughter sprinkled throughout the room.
“But tonight . . . I gotta say this.”
She looked at Roman. “Roman, I was watching you.”
Roman straightened like he was getting inspected.
NanNan smiled. “Don’t you stiffen up, boy. I ain’t finna fuss at you.”
The crowd laughed again.
NanNan turned serious. “I watched you love Solè with intention. I watched you show up. I watched you become safety for her without trying to own her. And that’s rare.”
Roman’s eyes stayed on her, respectful.
NanNan looked back at me. “Solè has been carrying folks all her life. She has been the strong one for everybody. I prayed she’d meet somebody who wouldn’t make her fight for love. I prayed she’d meet somebody who would be steady and fight for her.”
NanNan’s voice broke. She paused, gathered herself.
“And God answered me,” she said.
The room got so quiet you could hear sniffles.
NanNan lifted her chin. “I don’t know how much time I got left, but I know this. I got to see my baby loved right. I got to see her chosen. I got to see her safe.”
She reached out and held my hand while she held the mic.
“And, Roman, I’m not worried about you. I know you gonna keep doing right by her.”
Roman nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
NanNan smiled, satisfied. “I like you, boy. Don’t make me change my mind.”
Roman cracked a grin. “I wouldn’t dare.”
The crowd laughed through tears.
NanNan finished, voice soft again. “I love you, Solè. I’m proud of you. And, Roman, welcome to this family. Take care of my baby. Because she is worth it.”
I leaned in and kissed her cheek, whispering, “I love you, NanNan.”
She patted my face. “I know, baby.”
The DJ spoke again. “Okay, if y’all ain’t cried yet, don’t worry. Here comes Mellonie.”
Mel walked up like she was stepping on stage at the BET Awards, holding the mic as if she owned it.
“I just wanna start by saying, Roman, you almost took me out with this scavenger hunt,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes.
Roman laughed. “That was the point.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “No, sir. The point was to marry my friend, not stress me out.”
The room roared.
Mel pointed at me. “Solè is one of them people who will give you her last, her time, her heart, her peace, and then apologize for not giving you more. She is nurturing, she is selfless, and she will show up, even when she is tired.”
My throat tightened.
Mel turned to Roman. “And you . . . Mister big dawg himself, woof! woof!”
The room was in tears laughing at this fool.
Roman lifted his brows. “Here we go.”
Mel continued. “You love her like you got some sense. You are not perfect, but you are intentional. You cover her. You are steady. And I respect a man who can protect without controlling.”
Roman nodded, serious now.
Mel smirked. “But I’ma tell you what I told you in private.”
Roman groaned quietly. “Mel . . .”
Mel smiled sweetly. “If you ever make her cry the wrong tears, I’m pulling up with Nancy.”
NanNan called out, “And I’ma bring my belt.”
The whole room screamed.
Roman held up his hands. “I receive that.”
Mel concluded, softer. “I love you, Solè. I love y’all together. And, Roman, welcome to the ‘don’t play with her’ committee. You the president, but we’re all on the board.”
She raised her glass. “To Solè and Roman.”
Everybody echoed it.
“To Solè and Roman!”
The DJ laughed. “Aight. Last one. Best man, Bryce.”
Bryce walked up confidently, but his eyes didn’t go to Roman at first.
They went to Mel immediately.
Mel blinked like, oh?
The crowd started murmuring. Chase leaned toward Jacory, whispering something, and Jacory’s grin widened like he had a front-row seat to mess.
Bryce cleared his throat. “I had a whole speech planned, but I’m not gon’ lie . . . I’m distracted,” he said.
The room erupted.
Mel’s eyebrows shot up. “Boy—”
Bryce smiled without looking away from her. “Mellonie.”
The way he said her name had the entire room leaning in.
Roman muttered to me, “I see it blooming. He need someone to get him in line.”
I tried not to laugh. “She does, too.”
Bryce finally glanced at Roman. “My cousin, Roman—he’s been a big brother, a provider, and a protector since he was a kid. When those babies needed him, he stepped up. He ain’t complain. He ain’t fold. He just did what had to be done.”
Reagan and Reece looked proud.
Bryce continued. “When Roman loves, he’s not just saying words. He is putting actions behind it every time, like clockwork.”
Bryce looked back at me. “Solè, . . . you are the perfect person for him. Because you don’t just love him; you see him. You see the weight he carries, and you don’t ask him to put it down alone.”
My eyes burned again.
Bryce looked at Mel one more time, voice softer, almost like it was meant just for her. “And, Mellonie, . . . you did your job. You held her down. You got her here.”
Mel swallowed hard, blinking fast.
Bryce nodded like he was confirming something to himself. Then he spoke clearly again.
“To Roman and Solè. May y’all love be steady, safe, loud when it needs to be, and protected always.”
He raised his glass, and everybody stood and cheered.
Roman kissed my cheek and whispered, “We’re surrounded by love.”
I squeezed his hand. “We really are.”
And in the middle of the noise, the music, and the laughter, I realized something. Roman didn’t just plan a wedding. He built a moment that felt like forever.
The room was quiet in that after-everything kind of way. Our shoes were kicked off by the door, pins scattered across the dresser, and my dress was folded with care, handled like Roman understood it carried more than fabric, even after the day had finally loosened its grip on us.
He pulled me close, his skin warm and steady. His forehead rested against mine as if he was anchoring us both to the moment.
“Hey,” he murmured. “You okay, wife?”
The word still felt heavy and new, and I smiled, slow and satisfied, tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m more than okay. I’m married to you.”
A quiet laugh left him, low and familiar. “Say that again.”
“I’m married to you.”
Something shifted in his expression, and when he kissed me, it was unhurried and intentional, not greedy or rushed, just certain. His hands moved with ease and reverence, learning me again in a way that felt deeper now, as if vows had given his touch a different meaning.
“This feels different,” he said softly.
“It is different. We’re different now,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, and for a while, everything narrowed to breath, warmth, and the simple fact that there was nowhere else either of us needed to be.
When we finally settled back into the quiet, we lay tangled together, skin cooling, hearts still working through the aftershock of joy.
One of his arms rested beneath my head while the other curved around my waist, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles like he was committing me to memory.
“Wife,” he said again, just because he could.
I laughed under my breath. “You really enjoying that.”
“Very much so.”
I tilted my head up. “Roman.”
He lifted a brow, already amused. “Stop playing with me, Connie. What’s my name?”
“Roman.”
He leaned closer, voice low, patient, and teasing. “Try again.”
I sighed dramatically on purpose. “Husband.”
His smile came fast, proud, and satisfied. “Good girl.”
I rolled my eyes, even as warmth crept into my face. “You are entirely too pleased with yourself.”
“As I should be,” he said easily. “I earned this.” I settled back into him, letting my cheek rest against his chest, and after a moment, his tone shifted. “I been thinking.”
I smiled. “That’s dangerous.”
“Not this time, love. This is good thinking,” he said.
“Okay, talk to me.”
“That center you and Mel always dreaming about, the one I wanted to add to as well?” he began. “The tutoring rooms, the space for kids who need extra care, the pool for private lessons, and a place where parents can breathe without always being on edge.”
My chest warmed at the thought. “I want it so bad. Somewhere kids feel safe, and parents don’t feel alone.”
“Exactly. Built with intention. Structure. Love.” He paused, then added gently, “I think we should name it after Nan.”
I stilled. “Nan?”
“Yeah. Nancy Stevens. Nana Nan. NanNan. Whatever the hood calls her. She raised you, covered you, and loved you without conditions. That’s the foundation of what we’re building.”
Emotion pressed tight behind my ribs. “What would we call it?”
He kissed my temple. “Something that says stability, something that says we care, something that lets folks know they don’t have to struggle alone in there.”
Tears gathered, despite my effort to blink them back. “She would love that.”
“And even when she’s gone one day, she’ll still be here. In the work. In the space. In every kid who feels safe because of it,” he said quietly.
I curled closer, my heart full in a way words struggled to hold.
“I love you, husband,” I said softly.
“I love you more, wife,” he answered, holding me tighter.
The weight of it settled between us, warm and steady, and I understood that this marriage was not just about love, but about building something that would outlive us.
Roman went quiet again, the way he did when gratitude needed room to breathe.
“I’m happy as fuck I went to that game with Bryce,” he said finally, a quiet laugh in his voice. “That night changed my whole life.”
I smiled into his chest. “Who would’ve thought me being clumsy would land me a husband named Roman?”
He lifted his head immediately, amused. “Who?”
I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
He pulled me closer anyway, voice firm but warm. “You’re my wife, and I love you.”
The truth of it still landed heavily every time. “I love you too, Ro—”
He gave me a look that said, don’t play with me.
I paused, smiling. “Husband.”
His grin returned, quick and proud. “Good girl.”
Wrapped in his arms, laughter fading into quiet certainty, I realized this was not an ending at all. It was the beginning of a life that did not need to be chased or proven. It simply needed to be lived.
THE END