Page 166 of Rose
And worst of all—she was giving that love to someone else.
He clenched his jaw, breathing heavy, the memory of the day they met flashing like lightning behind his eyes. It was all he had left of her—the memory. That moment. That shop. Her voice.
But he was tired of living in memories.
He looked back down at Willow’s stone and gently kissed his fingers, then pressed them to her name.
“I’m bringing Mommy home,” he whispered. “Back to us, Princess.”
Then he turned. Behind him, another tombstone stood—hisown.A decoy. A lie chiseled in stone.
William Davis. Beloved Husband and Father. Gone but never forgotten.
And now?
Now it was time for the ghost to rise. Time to reclaim his wife. His family. Hislife.No matter who stood in the way.
???
“Put that over there.”
Ahzii pointed toward the left wall, directing the crew as they shifted canvases and pedestals around the restaurant. Her voice was calm, but her chest was anything but. Tonight was her showcase—a long-awaited return—and while excitement danced around the edges, anxiety sat like a knot in her throat.
Would people come?
Would they understand the message behind the pieces?
Was she truly ready to be this vulnerable again?
She hadn’t hosted a showcase since before the fire. Before the pain. Before everything broke. And now, with her entire story etched in brushstrokes and ink, she felt bare—like the walls weren’t the only thing being exposed tonight.
She hadn’t seen Savior since the night before. Slept alone in her apartment, needing to breathe her own air before baring her soul in public. But right now, in the chaos of preparation, she missed him more than ever. The calm he brought. The way his presence made everything feel possible.
“It’s coming together, girl. Menu is finalized, security’s tight, and I brought in extra servers tonight.”
Sarai appeared at her side, clipboard in hand and dressed in her signature white “Gold” uniform. Ahzii exhaled, grateful. Sarai had been her rock through all of this. Every chaotic meeting, every creative meltdown—she’d shown up, no questions asked.
“Thanks, girl. I’m booking us a vacation after this.” Ahzii tried to joke, though her voice wavered with nerves.
“I’ll hold you to that. Because this shit?” Sarai fanned her face dramatically. “Planning an art show is not for the weak.”
Ahzii laughed, but it faded fast. “I’m scared, Gold,” she admitted quietly. “What if they don’t get it? What if they don’t feel it?”
Sarai stopped, turning to her with that big-sister energy that never failed. “Bitch, look around. Your pain, your power—it’s all over these walls. People gon’ feel it because it’sreal.”
Ahzii glanced around at the restaurant space. The curated chaos. The raw emotion spilling from every frame. This was her story.‘Rose’wasn’t just a showcase, it was her rebirth. Her way of showing what she’d survived. Who she’d become.
Just then, Taylor breezed over, grinning with a large bouquet in her hands.
“Special delivery!” she sang.
“Lord, Savior gon’ end up buying out a whole flower shop,” Sarai teased.
“Don’t do my man,” Ahzii shot back with a smirk as she accepted the bouquet.
Sarai’s name echoed from across the room.
“Gold, we need you!”
