by Shay Violet
The next morning, Mya and my dad returned to Charleston. Shayla gave me a few more days off, which Yvette was available to cover.
Aras had surgery the next afternoon, performed by the team doctor from the Atlanta Falcons football team, to repair two torn knee ligaments.
The team had flown back to Germany earlier that day, leaving behind one of the teams’ athletic trainers and an assistant coach.
At Aras’s request, I was in the room when he was wheeled back in. Also, at his request, since he knew he’d be too groggy to make sense, he had me call his mother in Australia to update her on his condition. She seemed puzzled as to exactly what my connection to her son was, but she expected my call. She was delighted, of course, to hear the good news that surgery had gone well.
I spent large chunks of the next few days at Aras’s bedside, and the more we conversed, the closer I felt to him, and the more deeply in love I fell. We traded stories of our childhoods, of friends and family and favorite foods and music and movies, and we developed a rapport beyond the mind-blowing physical chemistry we shared.
On the second day post-surgery, among the many flowers that decorated his room, a small package in plain brown paper arrived.
It was addressed to me, in care of Aras, with the only return address being “Saint Helena Island.”
I opened the box to find a small pouch of what I recognized immediately as my great-uncle’s goofer dust. It was in a vial of clear liquid labeled “Night Water.” There was also a piece of charcoal, and directions for me to scrawl a series of symbols on Aras’s bandages with the charcoal. He had included a small piece of blue fabric that I was to hang above the doorway to the hospital room “to keep the haints out.”
Aras had mentioned on the day of his surgery that it looked like “that Dr. Wren bloke must have known something after all.”
I showed him the contents of the package, and he had a million questions. The fact that he showed such interest and was willing to indulge all of Dr. Wren’s remedies was further evidence that he felt the same way about me as I did him.
I’d return each night to my hotel room, but he asked me to sit with him and hold his hand until he fell asleep. I left him with a glass of Dr. Wren’s night water at his bedside.
Those few days at that Atlanta hospital convinced me that I was destined to spend the rest of my life with that magnificent man, whether in South Carolina, Tasmania, Germany, or on Mars.
15
FIFTEEN
Aras set about rehabbing his knee with the same maniacal intensity that allowed him to build his body into a dynamic machine in the first place.
He returned to Germany so that his team could oversee his physical therapy and workouts, and I reluctantly came home to Charleston.
We arranged for me to visit him in Germany, and I put off school for another semester and took an extended leave from work. Shayla hired a new full-time waitress.
I met his mother and brother in person when they came to Germany, and we got along famously. By mid-summer, Aras was back to near full strength, working out with the team again and preparing for another season.
One afternoon he returned to the flat we shared. After he tasted every inch of my body and I rode his big dick until were both quivering, sweaty messes, he turned to me in bed and said, "I think I'm finished."
I was taken completely aback. I wasn't sure if Aras meant finished with sex for the day or with me or what in the world he was getting at.
I propped myself up on my elbow and gave him a look.
"Yeah," he said. "I'll have them call a presser tomorrow."
My confusion abated, but only just.
"Aras?" I asked. He had a faraway look in his eye.
"Oh, right, sorry," he said, clearing the mental fog. "What I mean to say is, I can play again. I'm back. I feel like I could play five more years. But I don't want to. All I want is this. All I want is us. I'm retiring. I've been playing this game I love as a job for long enough. It's time to move on to the next thing. The best thing... You."
The next afternoon, Aras had a meeting with the team, at which they offered a new contract with more money. He politely declined and thanked them for everything. He had a small press conference, and that was it. His agent and the team ironed out the details, and it was over.
Two days later, we were off to the Land of Oz and the rest of our lives.
16
SIXTEEN
Australia was cool, and meeting his friends and family was fantastic. We even went to see the most famous tree on Tasmania, the one he’d told me about, Centurion. Although it didn’t possess the haunting beauty of Angel Oak, it was still a majestic sight that barely seemed real.
After a time, as a daughter of the Lowcountry, I felt home calling to me. Aras could sense it as well, and he admittedly had grown fond of Charleston during his brief time there. He knew I needed family nearby and that the swamps and marshes of Charleston and Saint Helena were in my blood.
By early November, summertime in Australia, we’d begun to talk seriously about relocating to South Carolina together. He was comfortable in his Tasmanian surroundings, doing some local commercials, and helping out coaching at his old soccer club. If he’d found a nice Aussie girl, a “Sheila” to settle down with, he’d have the Down Under version of a scripted Hollywood retirement.
But he hadn’t. He’d fallen in love with an American, a South Carolinian, a strong, beautiful Gullah queen from Saint Helena Island. He said he’d do anything in his power to make me happy and provide me with my best life.
We were walking down the beach one evening with the sun setting ahead of us, making it tough to see. I had an ache inside me where he’d given me an aggressive pounding with his thick manhood hours earlier. With every step, I felt tiny little tremors go through my core. When we came around a bend and scampered over some rocks, we saw silhouettes of a group of people ahead. There was a circle of chairs, music, laughter, and the smell of meat cooking wafted through the air. A festive scene reminded me of so many good times on the beaches of Saint Helena Island.
As we got closer, I could hear music over the crashing waves – it was Groove with You by the Isley Brothers.
I started to sing along and leaned into Aras, “This is one of my daddy’s favorite songs. I’m surprised anybody down here would be playing it.”
He grinned down at me. “We’re full of surprises, Zee.”
We headed up the beach, going around the group when a football – an American football – zipped through the air and landed near Aras’s feet. I hadn’t seen one since we’d been in Australia. Aras picked it up and went to throw it back, but I snatched it out of his hands. “Give me that! You don’t know what to do with that!”
“What makes you think you do?” Out came a booming voice off to my left. A voice that belonged to only one man. My oldest brother, Jovan!
With a wide smile, Jovan walked up and clasped hands with Aras, giving him a half-hug as I stood there, dumbfounded.
Within moments, we were surrounded by the rest of the partygoers – Jerriah, Steffon, Mya, Aras’s mother and brother, and a few others I didn’t immediately recognize… and my father.
When the shock and surprise wore off just enough to allow me to regain conscious control of my motor functions, I turned to find Aras on one knee, with a massive diamond ring in his hands.
“Zee, you’re the most beautiful, incredible, and sweetest woman in the world. All I want from this life is to wake up each day to your smiling face. I’ll do everything I can for the rest of my days to make you happy and proud. Will you marry me?
I dropped to my knees in the sand and threw my arms around him, causing a momentary panic when he dropped the ring, and it was lost in the twilight sand.
Before that, however, we rolled and laughed and hugged and kissed, and I just kept repeating “Yes, yes, yes!”
Then, of course, everyone knelt in the sand and searched for the ring. Once it had been found, and things settled down, I
was introduced to those I didn’t know – my brother Jovan’s Hawaiian girlfriend, Keala, Aras’s brother Will’s girlfriend Liane, Aras’s uncle Clete, and a couple of Aras’s childhood friends, Alex and Geoff.
When Aras knew he wanted to propose, he called my father to ask for my hand and then set up the entire thing, flying everyone in from home who could make it.
Steffon had recently resurfaced after being “away in California,” in his words. I figured it had something to do with a pretty blonde, knowing my brother. Jerriah’s sentence had been reduced for good behavior, and he’d recently been released. Aras’s mother knew people who knew people who knew the right person to speak to so that Jerriah would be allowed to leave the United States and make the trip.
“Since everybody’s here, I figured we could get married here, Aussie-style,” Aras mentioned. I didn’t immediately understand, but once we strolled up the beach a bit farther as a group, it all became clear.
Chairs and an arch were set up just out of reach of the tide, and a million stars began to twinkle far overhead.
“We’ll do it again in South Carolina,” Aras promised. “With all your family and friends there. Any way you want it. It’ll be perfect, just like you.”
Mya was my maid of honor, Aras’s brother was his best man, and my teary father walked me down the sandy, makeshift aisle.
I couldn’t stop smiling. I smiled so long, and so hard my jaw ached for two days after.
17
Epilogue
We originally planned a Spring wedding in Charleston to get it in before the weather got too muggy. We’d moved into a house on Edisto Island, right on the water, with a dock extending into a small river that led to the ocean. We had a large live oak in the backyard, Angel Oak’s little cousin.
We set a date for early April, reserving one of the large plantations out on Ashley River Road.
Zaras, however, had other plans.
Who’s Zaras, you ask?
He’s the result of one too many unprotected sessions of spectacular sex with my gorgeous hunk of a husband.
We’d been back in the States for a few weeks when it occurred to me that I was late. With all the commotion of moving, I hadn’t been paying attention.
Aras was napping in the hammock on our wraparound porch overlooking the water when I knelt next to him and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Wake up, Daddy,” I said softly.
“Oi?” he said, sitting up out of deep sleep. “What did you say? What’s wrong, Zee?”
“I called you Daddy,” I said with a mischievous grin. “Because that’s what you’re going to be.” I showed him the test I’d taken. The little plus sign was unmistakable.
I only wish I had his reaction preserved on video. He tried to get up too quickly from deep in the hammock, and it spun twice like in a cartoon before depositing him on the deck.
He jumped up without missing a beat and let out a shriek of delight.
“Woo-hoo! Baby, I love you!” he said, picking me up from the floor and kissing me. Then he set me down gently and kissed my tummy. “Baby, I love you, too!”
I had planned to be married in my mother’s dress, into which I could fit, but I didn’t have much time. We could have had it altered to contain my bump and wherever else might swell, so instead, we moved the location and the date.
Our wedding took place on Valentine’s Day in the same tiny church on Saint Helena Island, where my parents had been married. The church no longer hosted a regular congregation, but it remained standing and was available for weddings, funerals, and such.
My father wept like a baby walking me down the aisle.
Keshawn was Aras’s best man, with my three brothers filling out his line. My line included Mya and my three nieces, who were all thrilled to have their hair and makeup done professionally.
Miss Sadie was there, Dr. Wren, Ivory, and his family from Georgia, and just about every teacher, classmate, cousin, aunt, uncle, and friend I ever had growing up. The church overflowed with people and with love.
The reception was catered, at Miss Sadie’s insistence, by Sadie’s BBQ. Shayla and company managed to feed everybody there until they were ready to burst, and the best part for me was that I didn’t have to fill a single glass or carry any plates.
Baby Zaras came in the Fall, a round little ball of joy weighing 9 pounds and 7 ounces. He has my skin and Aras’s sparkling green eyes. He’s going to be the most handsome young man in the Lowcountry.
Steffon already has designs on making him into a Clemson running back, but Aras intends to have him kicking a soccer ball just as soon as he can walk.
The one who can’t get enough of that baby, however, is my father.
After three granddaughters, none of whom want anything to do with crabs, oysters, or fish, he’s thrilled to have a grandson who he plans to raise to become the “best dang fisherman who ever bent a pole in Charleston Harbor.”
I’d love to chat more, but Mya just pulled up outside. She’s dropping off Keshawn on her way to the airport. She has a flight to Germany to catch. Reggie has a big match this weekend, and she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
If you love Sadie’s BBQ and are curious about the five ladies Zaliya served… check out the Broken Resolution Series.
Ameera’s Story
Soldier Beast
My resolution: Get over my lying, cheating ex-boyfriend. The best way was to focus on my job as a nurse. Falling in love with my patient was never part of the plan.
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shayviolet.com
Also by Shay Violet
Broken Resolutions Series
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Soldier Beast
Ameera’s Story
My resolution: Get over my lying, cheating ex-boyfriend. The best way was to focus on my job as a nurse. Falling in love with my patient was never part of the plan.
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Naughty-Nice Nanny
Savannah’s Story
My resolution: No s*x for a year. But it’s hard to be nice when your boss is trying to get you on the naughty list!
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Sweet On You
K.K.’s Story
My Resolution: Lose 40 pounds. But after sharing a kiss with a London chef, I’m eating out of his hands.
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Two Weeks Notice
Sweet-T’s Story
My Resolution: Quit my job. But my boss says he can’t replace me in two weeks. In fact, he doesn’t think he can replace me...ever.
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Losing It
Paris’ Story
My Resolution: Lose my virginity! After almost thirty years, how hard could it be?
Interracial Fairy Tale Series
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The Sheikh’s Pregnant Cinderella
Cindy’s Story
I stole my boss’ ex’s designer gown, crashed his Christmas ball…and got knocked up at midnight!
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The Sheikh’s Sleeping Beauty Nanny
Aurora’s Story
When I see my broken-hearted little girl smiling up at Aurora, nothing will stop me from making her my nanny.
Want to learn more about Shay and her books? Visit her website!
shayviolet.com
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For a complete list of Shay’s books on Amazon, visit: amazon.com/author/shayviolet
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