Page 84 of Free to Fall

“As serious as your edges. You might’ve just dropped an instant classic, shorty.” I felt my smile spreading across my face, beaming with pride. Logan chuckled. “We’re thinkin’ about a mini-tour. Nothing too big, just eleven cities to start. It will be anall female lineup—Heaven, Amiri, and you headlining. If you’re open.”

My mouth dropped. I turned toward Nas whose face saidwhatever you want to do, I’m with it.I nodded, stunned. “Yeah. I mean… yeah, I’m open. Let’s talk.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I’ll call you next week to set up a meeting.” He fist-bumped Nas and disappeared back into the crowd.

I turned back to Nasseem, overwhelmed. “Did that really just happen?”

“Yeah, baby. It did. You up next.” He tucked a curl behind my ear. “Told you this was your time.”

I smiled, but I could feel that familiar ache behind my ribs. The happiness. The grief. It all lived together now. I rested my head on his chest. “I just wish our baby was here for this.”

His arms tightened around me. “I know, love. Me too.”

We stood there like that for a while, letting the music wash over us. Letting the moment land. And in that moment, I realized… We had made it. We survived heartbreak, loss, pressure, and pain. And we were still standing, still loving, stillhere. It wasn’t perfect. But it was ours.

EPILOGUE

**TEN MONTHS LATER**

Nasseem

It was championship belt night. And I could feel every second of it. I could hear my heartbeat louder than the crowd. That ain’t never happened before. Usually, I tune all that shit out. Let the noise become static. But not tonight. Tonight, I felt everything.

I felt the weight of ten years of pain, of struggle, of lessons. The sting of my brother’s betrayal.

The ache in my chest from buryin’ a piece of me I’ll never get back. But also…I felt the light that came with Egypt. The hope she gave me. The love that forced me to look at myself and choose better.

I was minutes away from the biggest fight of my career, the one that could change everything. And even though I was surrounded by my team—Reg, my cut man, my trainer, my nutritionist—it wasn’t until I turned to the side and saw Egypt holding my hands that I remembered what I was fighting for.She looked like peace. Like home. Like every prayer I never said out loud.

She was in a black dress with thigh high boots and a black jacket with her curls slicked back into a high bun. She had on light makeup and the only jewelry she sported was her engagement ring. It was minimalistic for someone like her, but even in the bare minimum she was still the baddest in the room. We stood in the locker room, hands clasped, foreheads pressed together.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered. “No matter what happens in that ring, you already won to me.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I ain’t losin’, baby. Not with you watchin’.”

She smiled, even as her eyes glassed over. “Then go get what’s yours and bring that belt home.”

We prayed, like we always did. I kissed her on the lips, slow, deep, like it might be the last—and watched her walk out to take her seat ringside. I exhaled, rolled my neck, cracked my knuckles. It was showtime.

My walkout started and the lights dimmed. The crowd inside Allegiant Stadium roared like a tidal wave as2 Much 2 Handle by Lux LAblasted through the speakers. I came out mean-mugging, hood over my head, focused. The air was thick with electricity.

Khalil’s entrance was flashier. Pyro, dancers, A Milli by Lil Wayne blasting loud. The whole arena shook for him. But I wasn’t moved. I knew what was comin’. I knew what I was about to do.

Round one, he came out fast. I matched his energy, jabs, feints and quick footwork. Every time he thought he had me, I slipped left or pivoted just out of reach. This wasn’t just muscle memory. This was strategy.

Round three, he clipped my jaw and rocked me hard. I stumbled back for half a second and heard Egypt scream my name from the crowd and tell me to shake it off. It locked me back in. I fought like a man possessed, because I was. I was fightin’ for everything they said I wasn’t worthy of. The girl, the glory, the gold.

In round eight, I saw him getting tired. That’s when I turned it up. Started workin’ the body. Hooks, uppercuts, combinations. Left-right-left-right, crisp, it was calculated and vicious.

By round twelve, we were both bleeding, bruised and damn near broken. But I wanted it more. And I got it. With twenty-three seconds left in the twelfth round, I landed a right hook from hell followed by a brutal left uppercut. Khalil’s knees buckled. His mouthpiece flew out and he dropped. Just like that, like he wasn’t an over 200lbs man, more like a rag doll.

The arena erupted. I couldn’t hear nothin’. Not the ref countin’. Not the bell ringin’. Not even the crowd goin’ crazy. All I saw was Egypt. Crying and screaming. Standing up, her hands to her face. I fell to my knees and threw my head back, breathin’ in all of it. The title. The redemption. The peace.

They placed the belt in my hands and I held it high for the world to see. But my eyes were lookin’ for her. Seconds later, she was in the ring, climbin’ through the ropes, fallin’ into me.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” she whispered in my ear.

“I love you,” I whispered back. “Forever.”

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