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Chris
Los Angeles
May 22nd, 7:00 PM
As I stood in our master bedroom, I could feel the electric buzz in the air—Beyoncé was practically glowing with excitement. The Grammy Awards were just an hour away, and her nominations for "Lemonade" had her practically bouncing off the walls. I could hardly believe how proud I was of her. She looked stunning, radiant in a shimmering gown that hugged her curves perfectly.
"Babe, can you believe it? This is our first time going as a family!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling over with enthusiasm as she adjusted her earrings in the mirror. I walked over, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her close.
"I can't believe it either. You've worked so hard for this, and I'm so proud of you," I murmured, placing a soft kiss on her temple. She turned around, beaming at me, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist—just us, celebrating her monumental achievements.
"Come here, Blue Ivy!" Beyoncé called, and our daughter cooed in her crib. I gently picked her up, cradling her in my arms. Beyoncé's eyes sparkled as she leaned in, kissing Blue's forehead. "Tonight's going to be special for us all."
Time flew by, and before we knew it, we were all dressed and ready to go. I had on a sleek suit that Beyoncé had picked out, and she looked like pure magic beside me. We climbed into the waiting car, Blue nestled between us, and as we pulled away, I couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for this moment.
Once we arrived, the excitement intensified. The red carpet was a sea of flashing lights and eager fans, and I felt a surge of pride as we stepped out, all three of us together. We posed for photos, and I loved how the cameras captured our little family. Beyoncé, my queen, looked unstoppable, and I was just happy to be there, supporting her.
But then Jay-Z showed up, looking sharp as always. A cameraman shouted for them to take a picture together, and I felt a pang in my chest. I realized they meant just Beyoncé and Jay, not the three of us. That slight shift in the atmosphere stung; it felt like I was just an accessory to their moment.
I walked away from the red carpet, my mind racing. The flashing lights and excited cheers felt distant now, overshadowed by that nagging irritation. I knew Beyoncé was in her element, and I was genuinely proud of her, but being sidelined like that hurt. I wasn't just her husband; I wanted to be recognized as part of her success, too.
As I made my way toward the entrance, I caught sight of some familiar faces—other artists mingling, laughter echoing through the air. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that tonight was about celebrating Beyoncé and her incredible work. It was just a photo, after all. But I couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider, even for a moment.
