The Price of Fame || Chapter 13

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1985

Rochelle Davis

"Future Newlyweds?! After joining talented protégée Sheila E. on stage at the Ritz in New York, His Royal Badness has allegedly proposed to limelight columnist Rochelle Davis. If this insider scoop is confirmed, congrats to the happy couple."

It was true. Genuinely true.

No more back and forth. No other women.

Only us.

Countless media outlets announced the same headline in different ways. While comfortable silence fell between us, an emerald ring sparkled on my right hand that next morning.

"You believe me now?" Prince talked against my lips, holding me close once I opened my eyes. Dressed in one more black tank top, he set silk pants against my front, teasing slightly.

"Yes." I spoke up as my mind was spinning. Prince leaned in for more kisses and held my hands, even though he was supposed to check out of the hotel soon.

Last night, not long after we came back to his hotel room, Prince welcomed me back and found this "random" cassette for us to hear. Of course, I didn't know what to think at first. Yet, he insisted, holding my hand as we sat on the bed together.

"I appreciate you coming." As we listened to this tape, my father's voice echoed through the room.

"Thank you, Sir. I really do care. This isn't a stunt. Never has been." Prince's low voice answered my father with nothing short of humility. The relief in his tone melted my heart.

"Do you love her?" Dad asked, surely wanting even more confirmation. This new chapter would change everything.

"Yes, Sir. I can't even explain how much. I'm no angel, but she means the world to me." Prince must've nodded that day. Somehow, I could see the adorable expression on his face, even as I closed my eyes and was still listening.

"Look out for each other. That's the only way this works. I've been married for decades and unity makes all the difference here. I don't give a damn about show business. Protect my daughter." Dad stood his ground and relayed advice once more.

"Always." Prince said.

The recording ended right away.

Just moments after we listened to that cassette tape, Prince stood up from the bed and knelt in front of me, peering up with unexpected tears in his eyes.

"I'm not perfect, but I've never felt so sure about anything in my entire life. No more games. No one else matters to me at this point, baby. I'll love you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, Rochelle?" Prince opened one velvet box.

Shocked, I covered my mouth and blinked through more tears.

"Yes, Prince. Yes." I promised forever.

If not now, when?

_________

With every passing show on the tour, Prince's joy brightened. Once dates lurked closer and closer to final gigs in Miami, wheels turned in his head.

"Let's go to the courthouse on April 8." Prince sat at the piano in another hotel room one night and messed around with those keys. I sat right beside him as usual, dreaming.

"Let's wait a little bit longer, though. You'll be running off adrenaline and there's hardly enough to book flights back home without getting chaotic." I suggested, trying to calm him down.

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