Page 90 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

Lotus closes her eyes briefly, pressing her lips tight as iffighting for control of her emotions.

“Kenan,” she says. “You’re the pushiest patient man I’veever met.”

A light ripple of amusement flows through the crowd.

“You were determined to get your shot with me,” Lotus says,“and you did.”

Kenan only nods, his expression sober, his attentioncompletely on Lotus, who grips her hands in front of her waist, the richness ofher sun-browned skin a startling contrast to the snowfall of her dress. I’m notsure if they even need any of us in this moment,they’re so intent on each other.

“When we met,” Lotus continues, “I wasn’t looking. I wasdeliberately not looking,actually, and had sworn off dating altogether.”

She holds his stare while servers distribute glasses ofchampagne to the crowd.

“But to quote one of my favorite pieces, the Song of Songs,‘I have found the one whom my soul loves.’ I always tease you about thedifference in our ages, but I want you to know I relish every year we’ve had sofar and covet every year ahead.”

He cups her face with one huge hand and kisses her forehead,leaning to whisper in her ear. Whatever he says, he doesn’t care that we can’thear. It elicits a trembling smile from his beautiful wife.

“Sorry, y’all,” she laughs, turning tear-bright eyes back tothe crowd. “That was just for me.”

“I told her that when I get her home,” Kenan says with ashameless grin, “I’mma—”

Lotus goes up on her toes to reach him, slamming her handover his wide smile.

“Like I was saying,” she laughs, holding up a champagneglass undoubtedly filled with something non-alcoholic. “Happy birthday to thefinest man I know.”

“Happy birthday!” we shout, sipping our champagne and oohingwhen balloons fall from the ceiling and confetti explodes from every direction.Amid the celebratory chaos, a sobering thread of realization runs through melike a fraying ribbon. Seeing Kenan and Lotus on stage, witnessing theirdevotion to each other, gives me a picture of what I could have—what I thoughtI maybe never would after all the app date disasters and failed attempts atrelationships. Kenan and Lotus, Banner and Jared, Augustand Iris—all the couples we sailed with for the last few weeks haveextraordinary marriages. Within a few minutes of being around them, yourecognize a rare bond that most people never find.

But what if I’ve found it?

Naz and I have only been together two weeks, and it’samazing. Beyond anything I’ve ever had. And it’s not just the outstanding,once-in-a-lifetime sex—though that’s worth mentioning. It’s how I feel when I’mwith him. Who I am with him and who he is with me.

I have found the one whom my soul loves.

Lotus quoted that in her toast. What if I have found the one? Or he found me? Or I fellinto his arms? Whatever. Fate, the universe—something threw us together again,and I have to believe it’s for a reason.

With Cliff’s judgment and his fragile recovery at stake, thequestion becomes Is the possibility of what this thing betweenNaz and me could be…worth it?

Kenan bends to kiss Lotus’s baby bump, and the blatant loveon his face when he looks down at her, when she returns the look ahundredfold…I can’t help but think it is.

Chapter Twenty

Takira

“I’m on my way.” Naz’s deep voice on speaker sends a frisson of pleasure over me.

“Good,” I reply, looking in the mirror at my half-donemakeup. “I’ll be ready.”

“I haven’t been to many premieres and I haven’t seen much ofCanon’s work, to be honest.”

“Well, this is a documentary.” My hands dither between thePat McGrath and Tarte eye shadow palettes. “So not quite as glamorous as the DessiBlue premiere will be, but everything Canon makes garnersattention.”

“I can’t wait to show you off on the red carpet,” he says,the same pride in his voice that’s always there when we go out.

“Um, about that…” I sit in front of the mirror, dreadingthis conversation. “I was thinking maybe we shouldn’t walk the red carpettonight.”

The silence on the other end of the phone clogs up with hisfrustration before he agrees and we hang up. He already knows why. In the twoweeks since we’ve been back, we’ve seen each other every day, every night.Sometimes he stays at my place. Sometimes I’ll stay over at his. Sometimes…wesay good night at the door and I ache for him, but it’s a sweet ache because Iknow I’ll see him again. Sweet because I know he’s aching, too. It’s a relationship.Not a one-night stand, a hook-up, a booty call, a fling, or a smash and grab.

It’s us, and it feels as fragile as a bubble blown andfloating in the air—as strong as an oak tree that has withstood storms. It’splaying catch-up and it’s ahead of its time.