36. Derek Destiny
Hakeem's health crisis forces both him and Eden to confront the fragility of life and the depth of their connection.
Are you new to this series, DEREK’S DESTINY? If so, tap below to start from the very beginning…
Previously on Derek’s Destiny: Derek focuses on building his future with Destiny, letting his friendship with Hakeem fall to the wayside—until a sudden health scare forces him to confront how fragile life can be and how little time he might have to make things right.
EDEN
“E…Eddd…e…”
The sound was faint, cracked, like it had to claw its way through miles of silence to reach me. It pulled me from the fog of sleep, yanking me upright in the stiff hospital chair, my heart slamming against my ribs.
My eyes flew open, searching, and there he was—Hakeem. His eyes fluttered weakly, unfocused, blinking against the sterile assault of fluorescent light above him. His face, pale and etched with exhaustion, looked so unfamiliar, yet it was him. His lips parted, struggling to shape the words, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Hearing him try to say my name made my throat tighten, tears instantly welling in my eyes. I didn’t know if I’d ever hear his voice again. For the last three days, that thought had haunted me, gnawed at my every waking moment. Watching him collapse had been the most horrifying, surreal thing I’d ever experienced. One moment, he was talking—grinning, even—and then he wasn’t. His body just crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut.
“Keem! Keem!” I had screamed, shaking him, crying, my hands on his chest, my whole world cracking apart in slow motion. My parents had run over, their voices frantic behind me as they called 911. But none of it mattered because I couldn’t hear anything over the roar in my ears, the pounding panic screaming do something, do something, do something.
They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance. I’d screamed at the EMTs, tears streaming down my face, my throat raw from begging them to take me with him. The drive to the hospital was a blur of sobs and shattered prayers, my voice breaking as I yelled at God, asking why this was happening.
I thought I’d lost him. And in that moment, I’d already begun to lose myself.
Why Hakeem? He was 28. His heart wasn’t supposed to stop. He wasn’t supposed to stop.
But somewhere in the chaos, in the desperation, I found the only thing I had left. I prayed. I prayed with everything in me, every ounce of faith I could muster. And now, here he was, a miracle lying before me, his voice like a thread pulling me back from the edge.
“Eeeeedddden?” His voice was rough, just a rasp of breath, but it was him. His eyes, though still hazy, searched for me, finding something they could hold onto, something they could trust.
“Keem,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I leaned closer, gripping his hand like it was the only thing keeping me standing. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I stared at him, my heart pounding against my ribs, the enormity of the moment crashing over me like a wave.
“You came back,” I choked out, my voice breaking. “You came back.”
I bolted up, barely able to breathe as I crossed the small space between us, throwing my arms around him without thinking, clutching him like I could anchor him back here, back to me. The reality of his body, still recovering, didn’t even register as I held him close, the warmth of his skin grounding me in a way that nothing else could.
“Oh God, Hakeem!” I choked, tears streaming down my cheeks, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I’d held in since he’d been brought here. “You came back to me… you came back.” The relief, the fear, the love—it all poured out of me in a rush, and I couldn’t let go.
Behind me, I heard the soft, startled intake of breath, my mother’s voice breaking through the haze. “Eden?”
I turned, looking at her through the blur of tears, my heart pounding like a drum. “He’s up,” I whispered, my voice thick, barely steady. “He’s up.”
“Baby, you gotta let him breathe,” my mom said gently, her voice soft but laced with joy as she watched me cling to him.
“I know, I just…” I pulled back reluctantly, feeling the warmth of his relief as I let go just enough to give him space. Instead, I took his hand, his fingers weak but curling into mine as he tried to smile, that flicker of the old Hakeem peeking through.
“I’ll go get the doctor,” my mom said, hurrying out of the room, her voice catching with emotion.
But I barely noticed her leave; my eyes were fixed on him, drinking in every detail—the tired rise and fall of his chest, the dazed look in his eyes. Without thinking, I dropped to my knees beside his bed, still clutching his hand, pressing it to my forehead as a tear slipped down my cheek.
“Thank you, God,” I whispered, my voice shaking, full of gratitude and the desperate prayers I’d whispered in the quiet of sleepless nights. “I know I’ve been asking for a lot these last few days, but thank you. This time, I just want to say thank you.”
Hakeem’s hand trembled in mine, his eyes fluttering open wider as he tried to speak. “What…my…chest…”
I leaned closer, barely breathing, hanging on every syllable.
“You went into cardiac arrest,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion, feeling the words in my chest as I spoke them. “Your heart stopped, Hakeem. Your heart...” My voice broke, and I couldn’t say more, the weight of what we’d nearly lost filling the room like a heavy shadow.
He looked at me, his eyes full of confusion followed by the understanding dawning, and all I could do was hold his hand tighter, willing him to stay.
Hakeem’s gaze shifted, unfocused, like he was piecing everything together through the haze of his pain. His hand squeezed mine, faint but steady, as he took a slow, rattling breath.
“I…I thought…I…” he murmured, his voice rough, every word scraping out like it cost him.
I swallowed hard, my own breath hitching as I forced myself to stay steady, to stay strong for him.
“You scared the hell out of me, Hakeem,” I whispered, my voice trembling as the truth spilled out, raw and unfiltered in the quiet of the room. The weight of it pressed heavy on my chest, the reality of what could’ve happened still fresh, still sharp. “But you made it through. You’re here.”
His eyes fluttered open, finding mine. The flicker of fire that made him him was still there, but it was dim, like it was fighting to push past the exhaustion weighing him down. His lips parted, the words struggling to come, his voice a broken rasp. “You…marry…me.”
I froze, staring at him, my heart stumbling in its rhythm. A nervous chuckle escaped me, an involuntary reaction to the surreal moment. “No, Keem, we’re not married,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice light, even as my stomach twisted. “Damn, did you hit your head too?”
His fingers twitched in mine, his grip weak but deliberate. His brows furrowed, frustration flickering across his face as he pushed the words out, each one costing him. “No… I mean… you marry me?”
“What?” The word came out as a breath, barely audible. My heart was racing now, a mix of disbelief and something I didn’t have a name for yet. “Keem, what are you talking about?”
The door creaked open, the sound pulling me out of the moment like a needle dragging across a record. I turned to see the doctor step in, calm and composed, his white coat pristine under the harsh fluorescent lights. His gaze immediately landed on Hakeem, sharp and practiced, his expression softening with the faintest hint of relief.
“Mr. Williams,” he said, his tone professional but warm, like he was speaking to a miracle he hadn’t fully expected. “Glad to see you awake. You gave us all a bit of a scare.”
Hakeem exhaled weakly, the effort of speaking catching up to him. His hand loosened in mine, but his eyes stayed locked on me. He tried to nod, but the effort looked monumental. His hand stayed tight in mine, his grip weak but resolute.
The doctor approached, checking the monitors, the numbers and lines moving in a reassuring rhythm that I clung to like a lifeline.
“Your heart stopped for a short period,” the doctor explained, his voice calm but firm, meeting Hakeem’s gaze with quiet intensity. “We were able to restart it, but we’ll need to monitor you closely to understand the underlying cause. You’re stable now, but we’re taking it one step at a time.”
Hakeem gave the faintest nod, his eyelids fluttering as if he were barely holding onto consciousness. I leaned in closer, my thumb brushing over the back of his hand in slow, steady circles, grounding him, grounding myself.
“Will…will he be okay?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, afraid of the answer.
The doctor glanced at me, his expression softened by a hint of sympathy. “We’re doing everything we can, Miss. Right now, the focus is on letting his body heal. We’ll be running more tests in the coming days. But ultimately, he should go on to live a healthy normal life with a bit of adjustments.”
As the doctor left, I turned back to Hakeem, unable to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. He gave me a faint, crooked smile, like he was trying to reassure me despite everything he’d just been through.
“Don’t…worry,” he rasped, his voice fading but full of something like quiet determination.
A shaky, raw laugh escaped me, and I pressed Hakeem’s hand to my heart, holding onto him like he was the only solid thing in the world. For a moment, it was just us, the hum of the machines a quiet reminder that he was still here, still fighting. I closed my eyes, letting the relief settle over me like a warm blanket.
Then, suddenly, the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a bang. Derek came stumbling in, looking wild-eyed and breathless, hair disheveled, like he’d sprinted down every hallway in the hospital.
“Keem!” he shouted, his voice booming, filling every inch of the room.
Hakeem’s eyes fluttered open at the sound, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Damn…D,” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Derek rushed over to Hakeem’s side, relief crashing over his face like a tidal wave. He clapped a hand gently on Hakeem’s shoulder, barely containing himself, his usual swagger replaced with a kind of raw, unfiltered joy.
“Man, don’t scare me like that again,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.
Hakeem managed a weak chuckle, his eyes flicking between Derek and me, the faintest hint of mischief sparking in his gaze. “Tried…my best…to keep it interesting,” he rasped.
I laughed, the sound light and unsteady, and I could feel Derek’s grip on Hakeem tighten, the tension in his face easing just a bit.
“Keem,” Derek murmured, his voice softening, the weight of everything they’d been through hanging in the air between them. “Glad you’re still here, man.”
Hakeem’s eyes met Derek’s, and in that silent exchange, there was everything neither of them could say—gratitude, loyalty, brotherhood. And as they held onto each other, I knew that no matter what, we were all in this together, ready to face whatever came next. And whatever had transpired between them, it was old news.
A nurse came in, moving quickly and with quiet efficiency as she adjusted the machines monitoring Hakeem’s vitals. She gave Derek and me a quick, practiced smile, the kind meant to reassure but tinged with the gravity of her task. Her eyes flicked to the heart monitor, watching the steady rise and fall of Hakeem’s pulse, each beep like a lifeline holding him to this world.
“Good to see you awake, Mr. Diaz,” she said, her voice soft but professional as she checked his blood pressure, the cuff squeezing his arm. Hakeem winced slightly, his eyes flicking to me and Derek, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
She pulled out a penlight, gently lifting one of his eyelids to check his pupils. Hakeem squinted, blinking at the brightness but holding steady. Satisfied, she nodded, turning her attention to the IV drip beside his bed, checking the line and adjusting the flow.
“We’ll be monitoring you closely for the next 48 hours, Mr. Diaz” the nurse said, her voice calm but firm as she adjusted the monitor by his bedside. Her eyes met Hakeem’s with the kind of practiced care that came from seeing too many close calls. “It’s important you stay as calm as possible. Rest is key to your recovery.”
Derek stood beside him, one hand still resting on Hakeem’s shoulder like he was silently willing strength into his friend. But his face—usually all confidence and jokes—was set in a quiet seriousness I wasn’t used to seeing. Then, as if he couldn’t hold it in anymore, Derek broke the tension.
“I’ma get Osmosis Jones hooked up for you, man,” he said, his voice a mix of humor and relief. “We about to have your comfort show on a loop.”
Hakeem rolled his eyes, weak but deliberate, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s between… us,” he rasped, his voice barely more than a breath.
Derek and I both burst out laughing, the sound breaking through the heaviness that had been hanging in the room since Hakeem opened his eyes.
“Everybody’s gonna know that’s your shit the way we about to keep it on repeat,” Derek fired back, grinning as he shook his head.
Hakeem’s chest hitched, like he wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite muster the strength. His smirk softened into something quieter, something grateful. His eyes closed for a moment, the weight of it all catching up with him, but his hand twitched weakly toward mine, a silent gesture that said more than any words.
Derek caught the movement, his smile fading into something softer. “Alright, man,” he said, patting Hakeem’s shoulder before stepping back. “Rest up. I’ll go make that Osmosis Jones playlist happen.”
Hakeem cracked one eye open, his smirk faint but still there. “Dumbass,” he muttered, the word so soft it was almost swallowed by the beeping of the monitors.
But Derek just laughed, and for the first time in days, the room didn’t feel so heavy. It felt lighter, like maybe things would be okay. Like maybe Hakeem was going to fight his way back to us, one weak laugh and sarcastic comment at a time.
The nurse gave him a small smile, the warmth of it almost breaking through her professional calm. “It’s a good sign that you’re alert, but there’s a long road ahead, and we’ll need to keep running some tests to get a full picture of what caused this.”
Hakeem nodded, a flicker of worry crossing his face. I could see it in his eyes—how he was trying to put on a brave face for us, but the reality was hitting him hard. His fingers tightened around mine, a silent acknowledgment that he understood the gravity of it.
“We’ll keep him on a continuous EKG to monitor his heart rhythm,” the nurse continued, her gaze shifting to me and Derek. “And he’ll need to avoid any exertion. Just rest and let his body recover.”
Hakeem gave a faint nod, his breathing shallow but steady, and I felt the squeeze of his hand, reassuring but with a hint of vulnerability. He was strong, yes, but right now, he was also human, fragile in a way I hadn’t seen before.
“We got you, my love,” I whispered, leaning close, squeezing his hand. “Just rest. Let us handle the rest.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, a small smile lingering on his lips as he exhaled, surrendering to the care surrounding him, his grip loosening slightly as he drifted back to a place of calm, knowing he wasn’t alone in this fight.
HAKEEM
The day they finally cut me loose from that damn hospital felt like freedom I hadn’t known in years. Don’t get me wrong—I was grateful to still be breathing, but having doctors and nurses in my face every two seconds, poking, prodding, asking questions for weeks? Man, it was enough to drive me crazy.
What ate at me the most, though, was the way Eden looked at me the whole time.
That fear in her eyes—it wasn’t her usual softness, her calm, steady way of keeping me grounded. Nah, this was different, like she was bracing for me to fall out again at any second. Like she didn’t trust the doctors, didn’t trust my body, didn’t trust anything except being there to catch me if I went down again.
I hated it.
Hated the way it made me feel like I wasn’t whole, like I was some fragile motherfucker that could break if you looked at it too hard. All I wanted was to get her out of there, somewhere we could pretend this whole thing didn’t happen, even if only for a little while.
But truth is, I couldn’t pretend. Not really. This wasn’t the kind of thing you just brush off. I was still trying to piece together what the hell happened, trying to reconnect the dots between my mind and my body. Some days, I felt fine; other days, I’d get caught up in flashes of that last moment before I blacked out. Eden’s face was burned into my memory, her expression stuck somewhere between terror and heartbreak. I couldn’t shake it, couldn’t unsee the way she looked at me like I was slipping away, like I wasn’t coming back.
And once I did come back? Eden wasn’t going anywhere. She stayed in that hospital room like it was her second home, curled up next to me in that narrow bed, refusing to leave—even when I told her she needed rest, that she needed to get back to work. She just shook her head, her stubbornness winning every time.
I heard her job started throwing out threats about firing her, but Destiny wasn’t having it. She made calls, stirred up shit, tossed D-Truth’s name around like a grenade. Word was, she told them she’d expose their so-called "family values" if they didn’t show compassion while their employee’s man—D-Truth’s best friend—was fighting for his life.
Eden ended up on leave after that, and once that was settled, she never left my side. Every time I woke up, she was there, her small hand wrapped around mine, her eyes watching me like she was memorizing my every breath. It was a kind of love I didn’t know what to do with, a kind that scared me because it felt too big, too much for someone like me. But it also made me fight harder. For her. For us. For a future I hadn’t even let myself believe in until now.
So tonight, my first night back in the world, I told her I wanted to go to the lookout. I needed to breathe air that didn’t smell like disinfectant, needed to sit in the quiet and let the sky do what it does. She didn’t ask no questions, just grabbed the keys and drove. That’s Eden—always moving with me, no matter where I’m going, even if it’s nowhere.
When we pulled up, she killed the engine and turned to me, her lips curved in that soft, familiar smile, but her eyes? They still had that shadow in them, a flicker of fear she couldn’t shake.
“What’s up, Lil Mama?” I asked, forcing a grin, trying to bring her back to us, to now.
“You feeling okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, like she didn’t trust what I’d say.
I leaned back, stretched out a little like I wasn’t carrying all this weight. “I’m good. You saw them people in the hospital—they were all in my face every damn minute. They said I’m fine. We follow their instructions, and I’ll be around for a long time. Ain’t no reason to stress.”
Her smile came back, but it didn’t quite stick. It was like she wanted to believe me, needed to, but couldn’t let herself just yet.
“You gotta stop worrying, Eden,” I said, my voice softer this time, like I was trying to coax her off the ledge.
She shook her head, her bottom lip trembling. “How can you say that, Keem? You didn’t see what I saw.”
“I know,” I muttered. “I just…I keep trying not to hurt you, E, but now? I traumatized you in the worst fucking way.” The guilt was heavy, settling in my stomach like lead.
“It’s not your fault,” she shot back, her voice sharp and shaky all at once. “How were you supposed to know about this genetic condition when your family barely took care of you?”
Her words hung in the air, raw and pointed, the anger in them not aimed at me but at the ghosts of my past—the people who were supposed to raise me, guide me, but couldn’t be bothered.
I leaned in closer, my voice low but steady, laced with a conviction I didn’t even know I had. “I’m not thinkin’ bout them, E. They didn’t give a fuck about me, so why should I waste my time? You—” I paused, letting the words settle, locking my eyes on hers. “You been holding me down. You the only one who ever really saw me, felt me, loved me.”
And just like that, something shifted. I saw it in her eyes before the tears started falling, breaking free like a dam had burst. She tried to swipe them away, fast and clumsy, but they kept coming.
I reached for her face, my thumbs brushing against her cheeks, catching the tears before they could fall too far.
“Eden,” I said, my voice soft now, like I was trying to hold her together with just my words. “If the roles were ever reversed, you know I got you, right? I mean that.”
She nodded, but the tears didn’t stop, her shoulders shaking as she leaned into me. I pulled her closer, wrapping her up, feeling the way her body pressed against mine like she was trying to melt into me, like she needed to be held together and I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
“You don’t have to hold it all in, Mama,” I whispered against her hair, my voice rough but tender. “I’m here. I got you. Always.”
She clung to me, holding on to me tight. She’d been breaking down like this a lot lately. This whole thing had been too much for her. Hell, I couldn’t blame her. If I had to watch her collapse like that, watch her life hang in the balance? I’d lose my damn mind. I wouldn’t have been able to eat, sleep, or think straight, and I’d probably cry like this too—just out of nowhere, because it was the only way to let it out.
But seeing her like this? It cut me up inside, made me feel like I’d failed her somehow. Like I’d put that fear in her eyes, and now I had to find a way to take it out.
“E,” I started, my voice low, reaching for her hand, but she was already shaking her head, her fingers wiping at her cheeks like she was mad at herself for breaking down in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I just… I thought I was gonna lose you, Keem.”
“You didn’t,” I said, pulling her hand into mine, squeezing it like I could somehow transfer my strength into her. “I’m still here, baby. And I ain’t going nowhere.”
But as much as I tried to reassure her, I could see it—the heaviness in her eyes, the fear etched into every line of her face. This wasn’t the kind of thing a few soft words could erase. And as much as I hated to admit it, deep down, I wasn’t sure I believed my own promises.
Because I’d fucking died.
No exaggeration, no bullshit. My heart had stopped, and for a moment, I was gone—like, really gone. The world faded to nothing, and then there was this light. Bright as hell, warm, like it was calling me, promising something I couldn’t even name. I felt weightless, untethered, like I was slipping away from everything I knew.
But then, something snapped me back—yanked me down, hard, like an anchor around my soul. It wasn’t instinct or survival. It wasn’t my time. It was her.
Eden.
Her face was the last thing I saw before it all went black, and even in the void, it was the only thing I could see. Her voice, her touch, the thought of her tears hitting my chest if I didn’t come back—that was what pulled me through. That was my reason to fight, to hold on, to crawl out of the darkness when everything in me wanted to let go.
I climbed out the car slow, every move deliberate, like I had to prove to myself I was still here. Still solid. I made my way around to her side and pulled open the door, letting the cool night air rush in.
“Come on, Mama,” I said softly, leaning down to catch her gaze, still glassy with tears.
I wanted to pick her up, hold her like I always had, but the docs had made it clear—lifting wasn’t part of the plan right now. She hesitated, her hands trembling as she wiped at her face, but then she stepped out. And the second she did, she melted into me, her arms slipping around my waist, her head resting against my chest like she didn’t have the strength to stand on her own.
I held her tight, my hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head. “I’m right here with you,” I murmured, my voice steady even though my chest felt like it might cave in. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
She let out a soft, broken laugh, but the tears kept falling, soaking into my shirt. I leaned against the car, pulling her closer, the stars hanging above us like quiet witnesses. She stood between my legs, my arms around her, and for the first time since all this shit went down, I let myself feel it—the gratitude, the fear, the love. It was too much.
“You remember the first time you brought me up here?” I asked, my voice breaking the silence.
She nodded against my chest. “Yeah. After the Jubilee. After you showed up at my house.”
I looked down, then back at her, the memory sharp in my mind. “That’s when I stopped frontin’,” I said, my lips curving into a soft smile. “That’s when I finally told you how I felt…how sorry I was for being such an asshole, trying to push you away.”
She tilted her head up, her eyes meeting mine, her lips trembling as she whispered, “I remember.”
I looked at the ground then back at her.
“This was always gonna happen…my heart…but God made sure to put you in my life so that when it did, I’d have you…not as someone to take care of me, but someone for me to live for a, strong enough reason to keep fighting and not give up when I could have clocked outta here.”
Eden’s eyes searched mine, deep and steady, like she was trying to see every piece of me all at once.
“Before you, I never had no real purpose. You know?” My voice was low, raw, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them. “I don’t got parents to live for, no granny waiting on me. No kids to make proud. Nothing. But you and your parents…and the goals I started working towards so I could lay a foundation for us...”
I reached up and cradled her face in my hands, my fingers brushing her cheeks. I held her like she was the most precious thing I’d ever touched, and damn if that wasn’t the truth. The light from the car headlights played across her skin, highlighting every curve, every detail. God, she was beautiful. Not just in the way she looked but in the way she made me feel—like my life could actually mean something.
When I looked at her, I didn’t just see my future. I saw everything. A home, kids, love, peace—things I’d never let myself hope for before her. I wasn’t the type to make plans. Hell, I barely made it day to day without something pulling me under. But with her? The future didn’t feel like some far-off dream. It felt real. Clear.
And yet, deep down, I knew better. I’d now felt how fast the future could shift, disappear, get snatched away like it was never yours to begin with.
Her lips trembled, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re crying.”
I hadn’t even realized. I shook my head, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, but the words came out anyway, shaky and raw. “Eden, I’m alive ‘cause of you.”
Her breath hitched, her eyes widening. I could see the tears spill over, tracing their way down her cheeks.
“I came back for you,” I said, my voice breaking as I leaned in closer, desperate to make her understand. “Only for you. Do you get that? You’re why I fought to come back. Why I needed to come back.”
She nodded, her tears falling freely now as her hands gripped mine like her life depended on it. Like she was the one trying to hold me together, when it was her who’d been keeping me whole all along.
“I love you, Eden. I love you so much,” I said, my voice raw, the words tumbling out like I’d been holding them in for years. “I don’t love nobody. I don’t let nobody in. I don’t let ‘em get close. But you—you’re for me, Eden.”
She choked on a sob, her voice a fragile whisper. “You’re for me, Hakeem.”
“You’re the last face I saw before it all went dark,” I continued, the memories flashing in my mind. “The only face I saw when I was floating, Eden. And when I woke up and saw you there…I had all these plans for us, all these things I wanted to do, and I thought I’d never get the chance to make it real. I don’t wanna wait. I can’t wait.”
“Keem…” she started, her voice breaking.
I held her tighter, leaning my forehead against hers. “I wanted everything to be perfect, the perfect time, the perfect setup. But I learned something, Eden—there ain’t no perfect time. All we have is now. And what I know, right here, right now, is I wanna spend every minute I’ve got left with you. However long or short it may be, I need you with me.”
Tears streaked down her face as she whispered, her voice trembling but steady, “I’ll be here. Always.”
My chest felt tight, my heartbeat drumming like a war cry. This was it. This was everything. My voice cracked, raw with emotion as the words spilled out.
“That’s why…please marry me, Eden.” It wasn’t a question—it was everything I had, poured into one moment. I damn near begged as I held her close, both of us crying, caught in the weight of it.
Her eyes widened, her breath catching. “What?” she gasped. “Are you serious?”
“I’m deadass,” I said, firm and sure, the Bronx laced in every syllable.
I let go of her face, backing her up just enough so I could move. My hand slid to my back pocket, pulling out the small, worn box I’d been carrying. It was heavy in my hand—not from the weight of the ring, but from the meaning behind it. Her grandmother’s wedding ring, the one her parents had been holding onto for years, waiting for the right man to give it to her.
I had told them my intentions while I was laid up in that hospital bed, every word drenched in desperation. I must’ve been half out of it when I first brought it up, delirious from the meds and the pain, but they saw the truth in me. They saw how much I loved her. Her mom cried, her dad’s eyes got misty, and they gave me their blessing right there, slipping the ring box into my trembling hands the day before I was discharged.
Now, down on one knee, staring up at Eden, it was like the whole world faded into the background. Her eyes were shining, tears slipping down her cheeks, and that smile—God, that smile—breaking through like the sun after a storm. The light wrapped around her, soft and golden, catching in her curls, making her look like she belonged to something higher, something bigger than this world.
The breeze moved through the trees behind us, carrying that clean, pine-scented air, but I didn’t care about none of that. It was just her. Eden. Standing there, looking at me like I was the only thing she needed. And I felt that. Felt it in my chest, in my bones, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
This spot—it wasn’t just some lookout. This was where everything shifted for me. Where I stopped being scared and let her in. And now? Now I wasn’t just laying it bare—I was making it real, no running, no holding back.
I held the box out to her, flipping it open, the antique ring catching the glow of the headlights.
“Your parents gave me this,” I said, my voice low and steady. “Told me it’s been waiting for you. And I told them I’d give it to you as soon as I could stand on my own two feet again.”
Eden’s hands flew to her mouth, her shoulders shaking as fresh tears spilled over. “Keem…”
My gaze never left hers, the weight of everything I felt for her pouring out of me. “Eden, you’re my everything. You’re the reason I’m still here, the reason I wanna be better, the reason I know I can be. Marry me. Be my wife. Be the mother of my kids, my forever. Please, Eden.”
She blinked through her tears, a laugh breaking through her sobs. “Are you sure you’re not, like…high on the drugs they gave you?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rough and raw in my throat.
“I’m clear, Eden. Clearer than I’ve ever been in my life.” I exhaled, the words rushing out of me before I could hold them back. “I know I might not be the Prince Charming you dreamed about. But I swear, I’ll become the man you deserve—no, the man you need. I know I wasn’t always that. I’m still working on it, and I will continue to. Everyday. Maybe… maybe God broke my heart because, in the beginning, I broke yours.”
She shook her head fiercely, her tears spilling faster now. “No, Hakeem. No.” Her voice wavered, but her hands were steady as she cupped my face, her touch grounding me in the moment. “You’re perfect for me. You said it… you said in that office, you were here to save me, and you have. You literally saved me from something I had no business being in. You protected me. God knew I was gonna be in some mess and made sure you were in that club that night before things went further, before anything could happen to me.”
Her words hit me in my chest, stealing my breath, but she wasn’t done. She let out a trembling sigh, her eyes never leaving mine. “Even though, in the beginning, you tried to push me away, you were still saving me. And I knew—I knew—you were my person.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the burn of tears in my own eyes. “I’m yours, Eden. Always yours. Just say yes.”
She nodded, a small, almost frantic motion as her lips curved into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “Yes, Hakeem. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
The world seemed to stop as I slid the ring onto her finger, her grandmother’s ring fitting perfectly like it had been made for this moment. I rose to my feet, pulling her into my arms as her laughter and sobs mixed, her warmth pressing into me like she was part of me.
“You’re mine now, Eden,” I whispered into her hair, my voice thick with emotion.
“And you’re mine, Hakeem,” she said, her voice soft but steady, like she was carving the words into the air between us.
She pulled me close, her arms wrapping around me tight, her laughter and tears mixing together as she kissed me with a kind of urgency, holding me like she never wanted to let go.
“You really want me to be your wife?” she asked, laughing through her tears, her smile lighting up the dark like it was pulling the stars closer.
“That’s what the ring means, lil mama,” I teased, grinning as I brushed a thumb across her cheek.
She kept looking at her hand and squeeling, “I can’t believe it…my Granny’s ring. This is so special. Thank you, Hakeem”, she said planting kisses on my lips over and over. “Oh my God…” she looked at me. “Who would have thought? me and you?”
“The first day I saw you…at the park before the crash happened
I leaned in and kissed her neck, soft but deliberate, and the sound she made—half gasp, half moan—sent a jolt through me like I’d touched a live wire. Shit. I’d kept it respectful all these months, done everything to honor her wishes to wait until marriage. Eden was a virgin, and if I couldn’t respect that, I didn’t deserve her. So I’d kept it cool, no pressure, no mention of sex. I was gonna wait as long as she needed me to. That was part of the man I was trying to be for her—for us.
But that sound? That little moan? It hit different. I kissed her neck again, slower this time, letting my lips linger, and she squirmed in my arms, pressing into me in a way that made it damn near impossible to think straight. Her hands gripped my shoulders, and the way her body moved against mine—it was enough to make me forget every promise I’d made to myself.
But I couldn’t let it go there. Not yet.
I pulled back just enough to look at her, to see the flush in her cheeks and the way her eyes glimmered in the moonlight. She smiled, biting her bottom lip like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“You know I’m gonna keep waiting for you, right? ‘Til it’s our time.”, I reminded her.
She nodded, her smile soft but glowing, her hands sliding down to rest on my chest, right over my heart, her touch light but steady. “I know, Keem. That’s why I know I picked the right man.”
I tilted my head, letting the weight of her words settle in my chest like a warm anchor. “Long as you know it’s no pressure,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady. I wanted her to feel safe, to know she set the pace, not me.
She hesitated, biting her lip, her eyes flicking away from mine like she was chasing down a thought she wasn’t sure she could hold on to. When she finally looked back, there was something raw in her eyes, vulnerable but determined, like she was balancing on the edge of a decision.
“Can we… just… not go all the way, but, you know…” Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper, soft and shaky like she was confessing something she wasn’t sure she should say out loud. “Something to celebrate this moment? I’ve been… really needing you. Can we?”
Her words hung there between us, fragile but heavy, carrying more than just desire—there was trust in it, longing, maybe even a little fear. And it hit me just how much she was giving me in that moment, how much she was willing to put in my hands.
I leaned in, my voice low but firm. “Much as I want you…E, if you can’t even say what you want, then you ain’t ready. And that’s okay, baby. Ain’t no rush.”
Her eyes went wide, soft and full of surprise. “You’re telling me no?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost disbelieving, like she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I kissed her—slow, deliberate, a kiss that wasn’t about heat or hunger but about meaning. It was gentle, careful, like I was sealing a promise between us. No matter how much I wanted her, no matter how bad the ache was in my chest, my soul, my whole damn body, I wanted her on her terms. When she was ready. When we were ready.
I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, my thumb brushing along her jaw. “You’ve been waiting a long time, Eden. I’m not about to have you out here at the lookout, doing something you’ll look back on and regret. That’s not you.”
Her lips pressed together, her brows furrowing like she was trying to fight off some disappointment.
“So… our wedding night?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I smiled, cupping her face, my voice steady, certain. “Yea. If you’re ready.”
She nodded, her fingers tracing small patterns against my chest, her own smile soft and full of something deeper than words could hold. “I’ll be ready.”
I tilted her chin up gently, looking her dead in her eyes, letting her feel the weight of my words before I even spoke.
“And I’ll take care of you,” I said, my voice low, steady, and sure, like a vow carved into stone. It wasn’t just a promise—it was a declaration, something I needed her to feel deep in her bones, as unshakable as the ground beneath us.
The moonlight caught the tears still clinging to her lashes, making her eyes shimmer like polished onyx as she stared at me, my words quiet but steady.
"Let’s go tell your parents you agreed to be my wife."
She nodded, a grin tugged at my lips. “Let’s do it.” She hesitated, her hand tightening in mine. “Keem.”
“Yeah?”
Her voice softened, trembling just enough to cut through the cool night air and hit me square in the chest. “Let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow,” she said, her eyes locked on mine like she wasn’t playing.
I blinked, caught off guard. “Courthouse? Tomorrow? To get married?”
“Yeah, why not?” she asked, like she was daring me to say no, her hands gripping mine tight like this was life or death.
A slow grin spread across my face, but I couldn’t resist teasing her, just a little.
“Eden,” I said, leaning in closer, my voice dropping to that low, playful tone that always got her blushing. “You just want Papi to make love to you that bad, huh?”
Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she swatted my arm, but I caught her wrist and pulled her closer, laughing as she buried her face in my chest.
“Keem, stop!” she groaned, but the way her laugh spilled out, soft and full of life, told me I’d hit the mark.
“Nah, nah, I’m serious, lil mama,” I said, tilting her chin up so I could see her face. “You wanna rush down to that courthouse just to get me in bed?”
She smiled, biting her lip, but her eyes gave her away—she wasn’t backing down. “I wanna be your wife, Hakeem. That’s what I want. The rest is just a bonus.”
She got serious, her determination shining through the vulnerability in her voice. “At the hospital... they wouldn’t give me certain info ‘cause I wasn’t your wife. If all we have is right now—if that’s all we’re promised—then I want to be yours, now. Officially. Legally. No waiting.”
She wasn’t just saying she wanted me—she was choosing me, staking her claim, no hesitation, no doubts.
I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away a tear that escaped down her cheek.
“Then tomorrow,” I said, my voice low, steady, but full of fire, “we’ll go do this. I’m ready.”
Her smile broke through the tears, lighting up her whole face, and she threw her arms around my neck like I was the only thing holding her to the ground. I wrapped her up, feeling her heart beating against mine, and in that moment, I knew it—I wasn’t just her lifeline. She was mine too. The reason I came back. The reason I was still breathing.
We didn’t hit the courthouse the next day like we talked about.
I wasn’t feeling 100%, and Eden’s parents? Yeah, they weren’t about to let us rush it. Her mom gave me one of those sharp-ass looks that said, “Try me if you want to,” and told us, “If y’all gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.” And when Eden’s mother spoke? You didn’t argue. Not if you wanted to live.
Next thing I know, they had the whole thing mapped out. Her mom found Eden this simple but pretty white dress that made her look like she stepped out of my dreams. I swear, I almost forgot how to breathe when I saw her in it. And her pops? Man, he took me to a spot and rented me a white linen suit so clean I couldn’t help but smirk at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t flashy, just smooth.
A week from my proposal, from getting out the hospital, it went down—just me, Eden, and her folks standing in front of a justice of the peace. We exchanged vows that weren’t perfect but were straight from the heart. No frills, no drama, just us. And that’s all I needed. Just me and my girl.
Afterward, her parents treated us to dinner at this bougie-ass steakhouse. I’m talking candlelight, waiters in suits, the whole nine. But none of that mattered. What mattered was Eden sitting across from me, her hand on the table, that ring on her finger catching the light. My wife. My fucking wife.
But her pops wasn’t done yet. He had one more surprise up his sleeve—a sunset cruise around Westonberry Bay. When we got to the dock, there was this little boat waiting for us, and standing by it was an old violin player who looked like he’d been playing since the Last Supper. His violin case was beat-up, held together with duct tape, but when he pulled that bow across the strings? Man, it sounded like heaven itself was leaning in to listen.
It was just us and him, floating on the bay as the sun dipped low, painting the water in streaks of orange and gold. The breeze was cool, carrying the salt from the bay, and the world felt still, like nothing could touch us out here. Eden leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder, her fingers laced with mine. The music wrapped around us, soft and sweet, like a lullaby for two people who’d been through hell and finally found their peace.
I glanced down at her, her face glowing in the fading light, and it hit me all over again—how much I loved her, how much I didn’t deserve her but couldn’t live without her. This wasn’t the life I’d planned, but damn, it was the life I wanted. Just me and my wife, floating into forever.
Eden leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder, her curls brushing against my neck. The bay was quiet, calm, the sky stretching out in shades of orange and purple, like the world was putting on a show just for us. Her hand slipped into mine, and I kissed the top of her head, feeling her relax into me like she belonged there.
“Papi, we’re married,” Eden said, her voice soft but full of wonder, like she was still trying to believe it herself.
I kissed the top of her head, my hand sliding over her shoulder, pulling her closer into me. She fit so perfectly, like she was meant to be there all along.
“Shit is crazy,” I chuckled, shaking my head like I was still trying to wrap my own mind around it. “I know it ain’t everything you wanted—”
She cut me off, turning those big, soulful eyes up at me. “This was the most perfect day of my life,” she said, her smile so genuine it made my chest ache.
That smile, man. I’d go to war for that smile, again.
I leaned in, kissed her slow, like I was sealing a promise. When we pulled back, her forehead rested against mine, and her eyes stayed locked on me.
“I love you, Mrs. Diaz,” I whispered, the words coming out rough, but I meant every damn syllable.
She smiled, her lips brushing against mine before she settled back into me, her head on my chest. “I love you too, husband,” she murmured, the word wrapping around me like armor. “When are we gonna tell everyone?”
“Whenever you want to, Mama,” I said, rubbing slow circles on her back. “But today? Let’s just keep it us. Focus on right now. On this. Our own little world. It’s perfect.”
The wind rolled off the bay, cool and easy, carrying that salty ocean air with it. Eden let out a soft sigh, the kind that came from a deep place, like she was letting go of every weight she’d been carrying. It was sweet, quiet, and it hit me all at once how damn lucky I was.
This. Her. Us.
This wasn’t just my second chance.
This was everything.
That day I fell out in the backyard? That wasn’t the end for me. I thought it was, but I was wrong.
Sitting there on that boat, holding my wife as the sun dipped into the water, I knew the truth.
It was the start of everything.
to be continued…
© 2024 J.T. Westonberry. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permissions, visit UrbanLoveStories.com
How beautiful 🥹🥰 I loved this development of their relationship!!!