Page 97 of Love's Free Will

The applause was thunderous. Back in my seat, Averi kissed me so hard I forgot where I was.

“You did that, baby,” she whispered in my ear. “Congratulations.”

“I’m just getting started,” I whispered back. “This one going on the shelf right next to yours.”

“You still got three more categories to get through, might need to get a bigger shelf.”

The second win came for Best Collaboration with Heaven. We walked up on the stage together to accept the award, and I let her do the talking as I was too shocked to even comprehend what was happening. That record was fire, and the award felt well earned.

Then came the big one. Best Hip-Hop Album. The whole room seemed to pause when they opened that envelope. And when they said, “Royal – Concrete Roses”, everything blurred.

I stood. Hands shaking. Heart pounding. People clapping. Patting my back. Averi looking at me like she’d never been prouder in her life. She kissed me before I walked up there. And when I took that mic, I let the moment wash over me.

“This… this is crazy. I didn’t think I would win once, but three times… man this means everything,” I said, looking out at the crowd. “This album wasn’t just music—it was therapy. It was heartbreak. It was losing my brother and almost losing myself in the process.” I paused, looking down at the award, then back up. “Shout out to the one who gave me the push I needed—my beautiful wife. When we first met, I was clownin’ her thinkingwhat the fuck—aw shit, I ain’t mean to curse.” The crowd laughed. “Anyway, I was like what does an actress know about making music. Little did I know right? Concrete Roses as it is wouldn’t exist without her. Her pen, her ear, her heart. Congrats baby we got another one,” then I grinned. “And that ass looks good in that dress—I can’t wait to take it off you.”

The audience lost it.

Laughter, whistles, cheers.

Averi ducked her head in the crowd, face buried in her hands, trying to hide behind the sparkly wedding ring she was lowkey flashing.

Back at our table, she leaned over and whispered, “You are so lucky I love you.”

“I know,” I smirked. “But I wasn’t playing, that dress coming off as soon as we get home.”

Later that night, The LA Records after-party was a vibe. They booked outDelilahin West Hollywood, and the whole squad was there. I sat with my arm around Averi, sipping Henny, surrounded by love, light, and legacy.

Logan dapped me. Kylei and Lux gave me hugs congratulating me on my success at the awards. Everyone in the room felt like family. At one point, I just leaned back, looked around, and soaked it all in.

Then Logan tapped his glass, grinning like he was up to something. “Alright y’all—quiet down for a second. Our girl Averi has a few words.”

I turned to her, confused. Averi didn’t like attention unless it was in a studio or behind a soundboard. She looked at me for half a second, then stepped forward, raising her glass. And just like that… the entire room faded except her.

“This won’t be long,” she said, voice calm but confident. “But I couldn’t let tonight go by without saying something about theman I love… and the artist I admire more than anyone in this industry.”

That hit me like a gut punch. I wasn’t expecting a damn speech. I’d barely recovered from hearing my name called three times tonight. But the way she looked at me, the way shesawme—I felt all of it.

“I’ve known Royal through many chapters,” she went on. “The stubborn, broody, cocky guy who didn’t want me in his studio…”

Laughter. Mine included.

“The grieving man who didn’t know how to let people love him… the lyricist who bled truth into every verse. And now—this man standing beside me, with three Grammys in one night? He’s everything he said he couldn’t be.”

My throat tightened.

“But what I’m most proud of,” she continued, “isn’t just the awards, the success, or the headlines. It’s who he became. How he fought for his peace. How he made space for love—ours—and poured it into this album.”

She looked right at me now.

“Royal… my husband…” she said, voice dipping into that soft tone she used only for me. “You said you didn’t give a fuck about awards.”

The whole room cracked up—including me.

“Well look at you now,” she smirked. “We’re gonna need a bigger shelf, babe.”

I shook my head, smiling like a damn fool.

“I love you. I am so proud of you. And I’m honored that we get to keep building this life together. You earnedeverythingtonight. Every flower. Every cheer. Every moment.” She raised her glass. “To three time Grammy Award-winning lyricist, rapper, storyteller, my everything, Mr. Royal Teegan.”

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