She dances under the stars with our family, her head thrown back, absolutely no rhythm to the movement in her body. When she begs me to dance with her and promises to make it worth my while, I do.
With her in my arms and our family surrounding us, I notice something.
Above me, the lilac has taken over the sky.
Pink and purple streaks have consumed the other lights.
The underdog has won.
Nine Years Later
“I fucking swear, I can’t stand this shit.” Nash scrubs his face with his palm. He leans his head against the back of the couch, staring at our ceiling like the television's existence is an insult to him.
My eyes dart between the two twin eight-year-old demons sandwiched between us. “Language!” A half-hearted scold.
“We hear ‘shit’ all the time, Mom.” Hallie glances at me, wide eyes the same color as Nash’s. “Last week, Mrs. Kimberly was teaching us about the Egyptians trading in the Red Sea. She kept talking about their shits.”
“She meant ships.” Lawson pinches Hallie’s arms. He has my eyes. One blue. One gray. “Mrs. Kimberly can’t pronounce anything for shit through her retainers.”
I cannot believe Lawson and Hallie shared my womb at the same time without killing each other. They share the same black hair and literally nothing else. Not even the same gender. Lawson is pale and ruthless, whereas Hallie is tan and sweet.
Nash’s fingers inch toward the remote.
I dig a fist into the white cheddar popcorn and toss a handful at his face. “Don’t you dare.” The kids squeal between us as it rains popcorn. I hip-check Lawson and ask, “What do you think about the movie?”
Lawson glances at the screen and shrugs. “Cinderella’s hot, I guess.”
“Lawson, she’s eleven years older than you!”
“So? Dad’s ten years older than you.”
I shut up, because the kid’s got a point. “Hallie?”
She puckers her lips and squints her eyes at the screen as if that’ll help her form an opinion. “She’s really clumsy, but I’d want to be her. I like her dress and her shoes.”
“Unbelievable,” Nash mutters, but the kids hear him. They throw more popcorn at his face.
The front door opens and slams shut.
The kids jump off the couch and shout, “Uncle Reed!”
“Where are your kids?” Nash asks him when he enters the living room with his wife.
It’s still weird seeing Basil’s face without the permanent scowl etched onto it, but here we are. To top it off, Reed’s wife helps me run my company, a non-profit fashion line that takes recycled materials and turns them into one-of-a-kind pieces. The proceeds go to soup kitchens across North Carolina. Nash calls me a bleeding heart, but I know he likes it.
Reed presses a kiss to my temple. “Ma stole them for a few hours.”
A second later, the kids whisk Reed and his wife away. Nash shuts the T.V. off the first chance he gets. His fingers meet his temple and rub. I roll my eyes at his dramatics and flick his arm.
He latches onto the arm and yanks me to him.
“Ya’aburnee.”
The word brushes against my temple. I mouth it back, a smile tipping my lips upward at the secret vow we share.
Ya’aburnee is Arabic for you bury me.
It is the hope that you will die before your one true love because you cannot bear to live without them.
There's magic when we say it, but it doesn't come from the word.
It comes from us.
Fin.
Talk to Nash:
Want more Nash? You can message him on Facebook here: https://shor.by/messagenash … (Yes, he answers, and he’ll keep you up-to-date on ALL things Cruel Crown, including Delilah and Reed’s books.)
Sneak Peek:
Stay tuned for a sample of Bastiano Romano, a mafia romance about Asher Black’s cousin and best friend. Read on Amazon, Kindle Unlimited, Audible, or Paperback!
Chloe, I keep flashing back to the little moments, wondering why they’re the ones I remember the most. I miss your minutiae, every small quirk that made you…you. This book’s for you—and every book after.
Rose and Bauer, my absolute obsessions. I love you. Thank you for making my life better. I smile more, laugh more, and live more because of you two.
L, thank you for loving me with your actions and not your words, because we both know I’m into jerks. LOL.
Heather, thank you for putting up with my craziness! You’re always there for me. I appreciate every conversation, phone call, and message. You are so invested in my career. I have no idea what I did to deserve you, but I’d do it a thousand times over again. I’m so blessed to have you in my life.
Ava, you nut case. I’m pretty sure you are responsible for 115 of the 116 hours I spoke on the phone during the month of October when I was supposed to be writing this book. I don’t know whether to thank you for them or curse you for those hours. (We were productive, right?) Obviously, I love you. I’d love you more if you upgraded your WiFi, but I don’t think the world can handle that type of love.
Heidi, I love that you make ugly things beautiful like helping caterpillars turn into butterflies and my first drafts into actual books. I love the beauty you see in unexpected places—the photographs you capture, the way you treat me and our friendship. I love how you don’t handle me with kid gloves and treat me like I’m made of tough stuff—and as I’m starting to realize, I am. I love how you came into my life so kind and unassuming, a sweet reader whose words I didn’t know would have the large footprints they do today. I love how you get me, how you love dogs, how you understand my words—and when you don’t, you work to understand them (and me). I love your selflessness and the time you give as if it is not the rarest, most precious gift you could give me (aside from your friendship). And mostly, I just love you. Thank you.
Professor Harloe, thank you for being my cheerleader and offering a helping hand always. You’re so supportive of me and deal with all of my craziness without a complaint (even when I am level ten dramatic, spouting crazy conspiracy theories).
Leigh, thank you for all the momager duties, making me get my ass in gear, and loving/beta-ing this book even when I was so frustrated at having to scrap the first 60K. I couldn’t have done this without you!
Jose, I have no words. I struggled to find a cover for Nash, but you sent me this one as if you just knew I needed it. Seriously, I didn’t even tell you I was cover searching, which is why I think it’s 100% fate.
Ryan, thank you for being Nash! I’m in love with this cover.
Desireé and Sebastian, thank you for bringing Emery and Nash to life! Des, you put up with my crazy and go above and beyond. I am so grateful to have you in my life.