Something New | Taraji x Fantasia

Epilogue

One Year Later......

The ocean is glass tonight.

It stretches out in every direction like a silk ribbon, lit by the glow of paper lanterns drifting across the waves. The sky is violet and blushing, a few early stars twinkling like they know a secret. I'm barefoot in a white linen dress, standing on the sand with my fingers laced through Taraji's. Her white linen glistens as it reflects the ocean and brings out the sparkle in her eyes.  We've returned to Bali, exactly one year from the day I surprised her beneath that banyan tree.

Only this time, she knew I was coming.

This time... we came together.

Our family's here—Dani and her family, my mom, and both our close friends and families. Even Andre (who swore he was only coming for protection but has been flirting with one of the retreat staff all week). We rented out the entire retreat space, turned it into a celebration. Not just of love. But of healing. Of choice. Of growth.

There's no altar.

Just the sea.

There's no aisle.

Just footprints in the sand.

And yet somehow, this is the most sacred thing I've ever experienced.

Taraji turns to me, her curls caught in the breeze, her eyes wide and glossy. "You good?" she whispers, squeezing my hand.

"I'm floating," I say.

She smiles. "Me too."

We wrote our vows together. I know, not very traditional. It held fragments of every version of ourselves we've been to get here. Truths that cracked us open and rebuilt us.

She steps forward first, voice trembling just enough to prove it's real. But I step forward anyway.

I take a deep breath and let my voice shake.

"When we met, I was hanging by a thread. On the outside, I was a star. On the inside... I was drowning. I didn't know how to ask for help. Didn't even know I could. Then you showed up. Not loud. Not pushy. Just... present. You sat in my shadows like you weren't scared of the dark. You learned my moods, my silences, the way I flinched at loud noises and flinched even harder at soft love. You held me when I didn't think I deserved to be held. And when I lost him—my boy, my light— You didn't try to fix it. You didn't offer empty words. You just stayed. You stayed when I shut down. You stayed through the nights I didn't sleep. You stayed through the days I didn't speak. You showed me that love isn't just flowers and good mornings. It's showing up when the house is silent and my chest is loud with sorrow. It's waiting outside the bathroom door when I'm having a panic attack. It's rubbing my back in the dark and saying, "I'm here. Still." Taraji, you gave me a new language. One where softness is power. One where healing isn't linear—but it's possible. You are my best yes. So I vow to never un-choose you. Not when we argue. Not when we're tired. Not when life tries to press in again. I vow to protect your peace, the way you protected mine. To love you out loud, the way you loved me in silence. To walk beside you—not ahead, not behind—but right here.

Always.

We found each other in the chaos. We stayed through the storm. And now we stand in the sun. And I am so glad we have...something new."

Taraji sniffles softly, her eyes locked on mine. I wipe the tears flowing down her cheeks, fighting the urge to peck her lips. 

"I met you on a set filled with color and sound and cameras—but somehow, you were the only thing I saw. You didn't say it out loud, but I could feel it. That heaviness in your chest. That way your eyes smiled for the world but your soul stayed hidden. You were hurting. Trapped. Held together by will and work and sheer grit. But still—you let me near. You let me sit beside you in your silence. You let me hold your hand without asking for an explanation. You let me see you.I remember the first time you cried in front of me. We were in the parking lot. You were trying your hardest to get through your pain but I saw you. I knew you needed to be held and so I did.  I did the only thing I knew to do—I wrapped myself around you, and I stayed. I stayed through the headlines. Through the grief –

I stepped closer when I heard her breath hitch, I brushed her falling tears away and peck her lips before stepping back. I squeeze the hand with her ring on it bring it to my lips. 

Through the unimaginable—the day your son became a memory instead of a heartbeat. Through my grief, losing my sweet boy. Through it all, I watched you become more. More tender. More bold. More you. You've always been magic, Tasia. You just didn't always believe it. But I did. And I always will. So today, I don't just vow to love you. I vow to remind you, every single day, of the woman you are— Even when you forget. Especially when you forget. I vow to never run when it's heavy, to never shrink when you expand, To hold you—softly, fiercely, and always—with both hands open. We've already survived the worst. Now I want to live through the best—with you. So I say yes, to joy, to softness, to you. I say yes to something new."

We don't say "I do."

We say "I will."

And we mean it. Over and over again. In all the ways that matter.

The crowd claps. Freeya throws petals. Dani sobs openly. Andre records it all on a little camera he swore he'd never touch.

And me?

I kiss my wife under the moonlight, the waves clapping softly behind us like they approve.

Later that night, we slip away from the crowd. Back to the banyan tree. Back to where it all began. Taraji spreads out a blanket and pulls me into her lap, my head resting against her chest.

She strokes my hair and whispers, "Can you believe we're here?"

I close my eyes.

"I can now."

She hums something low and sweet. We're quiet for a long time.

And then I say, "I used to think the best parts of my life were behind me."

She kisses my temple. "You don't anymore?"

"No." I shake my head gently. "Because now I know... they're happening right now."

She smiles against my skin.

And together, in the quiet, in the dark, in the full glow of everything we've become—

We whisper, in unison:

"Something new."