Page 82 of Free to Fall

Fans were quick to notice Egypt hitting the stage with what looked suspiciously like a massive diamond on that finger. Could it be? Did longtime on-and-off again couple Egypt Armstrong and undefeated boxer Nasseem Walker finally make it official? Sources close to the couple haven’t confirmed, but the way Egypt was flashing that hand? It’s giving ENGAGED.

If true, this marks a huge milestone for the couple who recently overcame a very public tragedy together and have remained relatively lowkey ever since.

Either way, we love to see it. Black love is thriving in 2024.

Egypt rolled her eyes with a grin, then snatched my phone. “Unlock it.”

I arched a brow. “What you about to do?”

“Mind your business. Just unlock it.”

I slid my thumb across the screen, and she flipped to the camera. I watched her with a smirk as she hit record, holding the phone up selfie-style, pointer finger tapping her chin like she was deep in thought.

“They wanna know…” she said, voice playful, “…if you put a ring on it, babe.”

She turned the phone toward me and I gave a lazy smirk, draped back in the booth with one arm slung over the cushion behind her. I glanced at her, then back at the lens.

“Hell yeah. I put a big ass ring on it,” I say, lips curling wider.

Egypt grinned and flashed her hand into the frame, the diamond catching the light just right. “We gettin’ married, y’all!” she screamed before turning back to me and planting a kiss on my lips.

Then, the video ended and I watched as she posted it on my X account. Our phones started vibrating like crazy almostinstantly. Comments, mentions, texts, group chats blowing up. I grabbed both our phones and slid them across the table, screen-side down.

“Nah,” I said, pulling her into me. “We on Do Not Disturb tonight.”

She laughs and leans into my side. “DND?”

“All night.”

And with that, we melted back into the celebration. Surrounded by our people. The music was loud, energy high, drinks flowing, love in the air. We’d been through so much. But tonight? Tonight was about unfiltered and uninterrupted joy. And it was all ours.

22

EGYPT

Ihad never been more anxious in my life. Vegas was lit in every sense of the word. Neon lights reflected off every building, music spilled from every hotel lobby, and the energy in the city was electric—buzzing with the kind of anticipation that made your skin hum. But none of that compared to the energy sitting in my chest.

This was Nasseem’s fight. The one we’d been building back toward for months. The one that proved he still had it after everything—after the shooting, the therapy, the pain, the loss. This wasn’t just about being undefeated anymore. This was about getting our lives back on track. He was one step away from the championship belt. And I was sitting ringside to watch the man I loved go claim it.

We were in the dressing room before the fight. Just me, him, and Reg standing quietly as Nas sat on the bench lacing up his gloves, locked into his own world. I watched him breathe, deep and slow, his eyes focused, his jaw set. His body looked strong again. Like it had before the bullet, like nothing had touched him.

I stepped closer, bent down, and reached for his hands. He looked up at me and the moment our eyes locked, everything around us faded.

“Let’s pray,” I whispered and he nodded. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the words come from the deepest part of me. “God… I ask you to cover this man. Protect him. Keep him safe from injury, from harm, from fear. Let his fists be fast, his mind sharp, and his heart steady. Let him move with confidence and grace and let everything he trained for show up for him tonight. Bring him home to me whole.”

“Amen,” he murmured, voice low and full of emotion.

I leaned in and gave him a kiss, soft and quick, the kind that meantyou got this.“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you more.”

Then I turned and left the room, heading toward the front of the arena where the rest of our crew was already seated—Serenity and Creed, Ari and Brodie, Averi, all of us in the front row. My seat was dead center, right behind his corner.

As I sat down, I felt my stomach twist. The nerves were hitting me hard. This wasn’t just a boxing match. This was Nasseem reclaiming his life. Our life.

“He’s got this,” Averi leaned in, grabbing my hand. I nodded, but I couldn’t speak.

Sadiq’s entrance was first. His anthem played over the speakers as he walked to the ring, arms raised, his team flanking him. The crowd went wild. He was a crowd favorite, all brute strength and flashy charisma. I could see why they loved him.

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