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ONE YEAR LATER

OMIR

T he oversized scissors felt heavier than I expected, but the weight of the moment made up for it.

Standing outside the entrance of my new southern cuisine restaurant, Notes of Soul , I looked out at the crowd gathered before me—friends, family, city officials, and curious people who’d come to celebrate the grand opening.

The air smelled like promise, smoked turkey collards, and honey-glazed cornbread. I inhaled deeply, my chest swelling with pride as I cut the crimson ribbon stretched across the front doors. The cheers and applause that followed were thunderous, filling the street with excitement.

I handed the scissors off to one of my staff, shaking hands and offering nods of gratitude to everyone who had supported me in getting here. Notes of Soul wasn’t just a restaurant; it was a dream come to life. A space dedicated to great food, the history of jazz, and the soul of our culture.

This past year had been a whirlwind. Between managing the jazz club, securing funding, and obsessing over every detail of the restaurant, I’d grown in ways I didn’t think were possible. I was no longer the man I was a year ago—searching, unsure, and tangled in emotions I couldn’t control.

The jazz club was thriving, hosting artists from across the country. And now, this restaurant—my second dream—was finally a reality. Every late night, every setback, and every doubt had been worth it.

“Omir.”

I turned at the sound of her voice and saw Anya walking toward me, her caramel skin glowing in the late afternoon sunlight. She was stunning, as always, in a white mink coat and soft blue dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her smile was radiant as she leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“There are some people I want you to meet, babe,” she said, sliding her arm through mine.

“Of course,” I said, allowing her to guide me through the crowd.

As we moved, I couldn’t help but think about how much had happened in a year.

Anya and I were still rocking. She was beautiful and understanding.

She came from money and didn’t need mine, but I loved providing.

Our connection had grown naturally from that night at my club.

Now, she was my fiancée, and our wedding was only six weeks away.

I glanced down at her as she spoke with a city official, her voice smooth and confident. She carried herself with grace, and I admired how she fit into this world I was building.

“Mr. Harper,” one of the officials said, shaking my hand firmly. “This is a fantastic addition to the city. We’re excited to see the impact it will have.”

“Thank you,” I said. “ Notes of Soul is about more than just food—it’s about history, connection, and community. I’m honored to bring this vision to life.”

“And you’ve done an amazing job.” Anya chimed in, beaming at me. “He’s been working nonstop for months to make this happen.”

I nodded, accepting the praise but feeling a small twinge of something I couldn’t quite name. Pride, sure—but also disbelief at how far I’d come.

After a few more introductions and photos, Anya and I finally stepped inside. The restaurant was packed, every table filled with customers enjoying the food and ambiance. Smooth jazz played softly in the background, blending perfectly with the chatter and clinking of glasses.

“This is incredible, babe,” Anya said, squeezing my hand.

“It is,” I replied, scanning the room to make sure everything was running smoothly. “How are we looking on the wedding planning?”

“We’re ahead of schedule,” she said with a playful smirk. “But you still owe me your guest list.”

I chuckled. “I’ll get to it. Things have just been. . . busy.”

“I know,” she said, her tone softening. “But don’t forget, this is important too.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I assured her.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss me. “Good. Now let’s make sure everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

As we moved through the restaurant, greeting guests and checking in with staff, I couldn’t ignore the sense of contentment that had settled over my life.

I was in a good place, professionally and personally.

Anya was everything I thought I wanted in a partner: smart, supportive, and easy to be with.

But sometimes, late at night when I closed my eyes, a different face would slip into my thoughts. One I hadn’t seen in a year but still lingered in the shadows of my mind.

I shook the thought away, focusing on the moment. I had everything I needed, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize it by looking back. This was my life now. And I was determined to make it work.