Page 35 of Free to Fall

New York wasloud as hell but feeling real quiet tonight. Or maybe it was just her. Egypt had that effect making everything else disappear the second she smiled. We left 30 Rock hand in hand, cameras still flashing, but she didn’t flinch. She was floating and glowing. Not just from the lights, but from everything. The performance, the interview, the love. She was in her bag, and I was front row for all of it.

“You hungry?” I asked as we slid into the car.

“Starving.”

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Say less. I got you.”

I had already made a call earlier. Nothing too crazy, just a lowkey spot downtown I used to hit when I was training in the city a few years back. Candlelit vibe, smooth ass R&B, and a kitchen that stayed open late. Private booth in the back. That was the energy we needed.

She tucked her feet up on the seat and pulled her phone out. Her notifications were blowing up—like, nonstop. I could hear the buzzing from my side.

“Oh my God,” she laughed, scrolling fast. “This is wild. Like, WILD. My mentions are ridiculous.”

“That’s cause you lit, E,” I said, watching her while she wasn’t looking. “You walked out on that stage like you owned the whole building.”

She looked up, smile stretching wide. “You really think so?”

I scoffed. “Do I—man, hell yeah. I been sayin’ this since you played me the first demo.Notice Mewas already a hit before the band flipped it live. You stepped out there and gave ‘em you. Not the actress, not the character. You.”

She blinked a couple times, eyes soft. “That means everything coming from you.”

I almost said it. I felt the words crawl up my throat, heavy and warm.I love you.But I caught myself and swallowed it back. I cleared my throat and reached for my glass. “Anyway, this food finna slap.”

The restaurant was dim, quiet. Table lit by one little lamp like it was tryna keep a secret. Egypt ordered pasta and wine. I kept it simple—steak and bourbon. We laughed, talked about her upcoming press stops, whether she should drop another single or wait on the full rollout. I could tell she wanted to slow down and enjoy the high, but she was already thinking five movesahead. That was Egypt. Soft on the surface, business shark underneath.

When dinner was over, we slid back into the car, her curled up again—barefoot now, heels tossed somewhere under the seat. She threw her legs across my lap like it was second nature. Head resting against the window, thumb scrolling.

I didn’t realize she had taken a picture ‘til I heard the little shutter sound. I glanced down at my phone after getting a notification and saw her post on X. It was her legs. My lap. Just a moody lil’ shadowy shot with some caption like:

“All I need in this life of sin, is me and my

boyfriend

”

The picture didn’t show me at all. But I knew what it was. And I was tired of pretending and hiding. I pulled out my phone, tapped on the post, and hit reply:

“Mine ”

I didn’t hesitate and I didn’t care. I turned off my phone and grabbed hers right out her hand before she could see the notification.

“Hey!”

“Nah,” I said, leaning over to kiss her neck. “We off the grid tonight. Whatever it is can wait.”

“You really turned my shit off?”

“Yup. Whole night is just us. We’ll deal with the internet in the morning.”

She laughed, tucking herself into me like she belonged there. And lowkey? She did.

The next morning,I was up first. Not because I wanted to be, but cause my phone wouldn’t stop going off. I rubbed my eyes, checked the screen, and there it was:

LIPSTICK CONFIDENTIAL: “Egypt Armstrong Has a New Man—and It’s Exactly Who We Thought It Was

Beneath it, a screenshot of her tweet and my reply blown up along with a link to the actual blog post. I clicked the link then came face to face with the post.

LIPSTICK CONFIDENTIAL

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