Page 60 of Rose

Then, slowly, her lips curved. “Fine.”

And just like that, he smiled too.

Like she’d just said yes to a future neither of them knew was coming .

William stood on the stool inside The Escape Room, carefully adjusting the last security camera. The buzz of the night had finally settled. The art showcase had ended, and now it was just Ahzii, a few lingering staff, and him.

He jumped down from the stool, wiping his hands on a cloth before handing her back her phone. “All cameras are working now. I set them up to sync to your phone—live view, playback, notifications. Everything’s secure.”

Ahzii looked down at her screen, impressed. “Damn. That’s... really dope. Thank you again, for fixing them.”

William offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but his voice was warm. “Thanks for the escape. This place is incredible. You’re incredible.”

She raised a brow as they stepped outside, the night air warm with leftover music and laughter. The streets had gone quiet now—just streetlamps, city breeze, and soft steps on pavement.

William stopped by his car, unlocking it as he looked at her one last time.

“This place is beautiful,” he said, voice low. “Like the owner.”

Ahzii chuckled, shaking her head, but the way she looked at him now… it wasn’t dismissive. It was curious. Intrigued. Touched.

“Continue to let your beauty shine, Beautiful,” he added, voice soft, but it carried more than he intended.

She blinked, the compliment hitting deeper than either of them expected.

“Thank you, William,” she said quietly.

He opened his door and looked back at her one more time, a rare softness in his eyes.

“I’ll be looking forward to that call.”

Ahzii’s hand instinctively brushed the note still tucked in her pocket—the one with his number.

“We’ll see,” she said, smiling now.

William got in, started the engine, and pulled off into the night.

And in that moment, without realizing it...

Ahzii had stolen his heartless heart, and turned a devil into a man who suddenly believed in love again.

William stood over the small, polished tombstone, the name Willow Davis carved delicately into the granite. His hand trembled as he reached out, brushing away the dead petals that clung to the base. A single tear slipped down his cheek—one of many he’d never allow the world to see.

This was the cost of his survival. The woman who gave him light. The daughter who gave him purpose. Gone.

All because of his past.

The flames didn’t kill him, but they destroyed everything else. He walked out of that fire, but the man who came out wasn’t the same one who walked in. He lost the only Heaven he’d ever known trying to escape the hell he created.

“Hey, baby girl… it’s Daddy,” he whispered, crouching beside Willow’s grave. His voice cracked like a man still trying to hold himself together. “I know Mommy hasn’t been by. I’ve been watching her… she’s still hurting. Just like me.”

The flowers were wilted. Faded. He could tell Ahzii hadn’t visited in weeks. But he had. Always from a distance. Always in the shadows .

Because he had to be dead. That was the only way to keep her safe.

He’d covered every trail after that night—wiped security footage, scrubbed hospital records, hacked the system and buried her name beneath layers of digital smoke. She was listed as a Jane Doe. No trace. No links. No questions. Just like he planned.

And still, his demons weren’t done with him. Especially now… now that he’d watched her fall in love again.

With another man. Not just any man— a Carter.

A family whose hands were stained with the ashes of his.

Every time he saw her smile at that man— his wife —it burned deeper than the fire that nearly killed him. Watching her rebuild, watching her laugh again, made his heart split open all over. Because she was doing it without him. Because the world moved on, and somehow... she forgot.

Forgot their wedding vows. Their late nights on the beach. The dreams they dreamed for Willow.

The family they built.

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—his own. 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. His life. 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’s real. ”

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!”

Sarai groaned, already turning. “Duty calls. I’ll be back to boost your ego again in ten.”

Taylor kissed Ahzii’s cheek. “I’m gonna double check the layout with the movers. You got this, Zii. People been waiting for your story.”

As they walked away, Ahzii brought the bouquet to her nose, inhaling the fresh scent of roses.

Then she saw the card. Tucked between the stems, a small folded note.

She pulled it free and opened it.

Her heart stopped.

“Your art show is where our love started. Continue to let Beauty shine, Beautiful.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the words, her fingers trembling.

That wasn’t from Savior.

That phrase… Only one man ever said that to her. Only one man ever called her that like it was gospel.

William .

The night they met. The night she unknowingly fell in love with a ghost.

And now… He was haunting her again .

Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she stared at the note, her breath locked in her throat. This wasn’t a hallucination. This wasn’t some trauma-fueled dream.

This was real.

She hadn’t seen William’s face in her mind in weeks. Hadn’t heard his voice whispering through the cracks of her grief. She thought she was finally free of the ghost that clung to her memory like smoke. But this wasn’t a trick of the mind.

This was a note. In his words. In his handwriting.

“No. He’s dead. It can’t be him.” She whispered the lie to herself, trying to will it true.

But then—

“Can’t be who?”

Savior’s voice behind her made her flinch so hard the note nearly slipped from her fingers. She shoved it deep into her back pocket as she turned around, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Hey, baby,” she said quickly, forcing a smile, willing her voice to even out.

Savior stood there with a bouquet of fresh roses and takeout bags in the one hand, and something hidden behind his back. But his smile faded the moment he really looked at her.

“You good? Who were you talking about?” he asked, eyes shifting toward the roses already on the table. His jaw tightened.

Ahzii rushed to recover. “Oh, no one. Just thinking aloud.”

He didn’t buy it, not at first. His eyes lingered on her like he was reading between her lies. She hated lying to him, but what could she say? Hey, love, the man I buried sent me roses and a ghostwritten memory? He’d think she was losing her mind.

“Who sent those?” he asked, nodding at the roses like they personally offended him.

She laughed lightly to mask the truth. “They didn’t leave a name. Probably Kyre—she mentioned she was sending flowers for the show.”

Savior’s jaw flexed once more before finally relaxing, the tension leaving his shoulders as he nodded.

“Yeah… okay,” he muttered. “Still. Somebody clearly wants to die.”