Fatima's POV
It's been a couple weeks since Kolby's party, and as much as I've been trying to push through like I'm some kind of superhero, my body and my patience said, girl, sit down.
I desperately needed a self-care day.
And after that? A real date night with my man.
No emails.
No playroom cleanups.
Just me and him.
First thing I did that morning was text Lauren:
Me:
Today, Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't send me nothing.
I am unreachable.
Lauren:
Copy that, Queen. Enjoy your day.
I smiled, tossing my phone to the side.
Then, I double-checked that Serena had Kolby for the day — she'd planned a whole mini "Girls' Day" of their own: baking cookies, painting nails, probably getting glitter everywhere.
Perfect.
No guilt. No worries.
Just pure, uninterrupted Fatima time.
I looked around the house once — no tiny voice yelling "Mommy!" no last-minute wardrobe emergencies — and I finally exhaled.
This was what I needed.
I had a massage booked.
A facial.
A mani-pedi.
And I even scheduled a quiet lunch for one at this little garden café I've been dying to try.
And tonight?
Tonight, it was just me and Zac.
No work talk.
No scheduling drama.
No wedding planning.
No Sabrina drama.
None of it.
Just me... slipping into a dress I picked just to make his jaw drop baby bump and all and letting him take me out like it was day one all over again.
Because as much as I'm building a life I love with him, sometimes it's good to pause and remember that before we were a family
We were just two people crazy about each other.
After I finished my massage — which, by the way, almost had me drooling on the table — I sat outside the spa in the sunshine for a minute, feeling like a brand new woman.
My nails were fresh, my face was glowing, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't thinking about emails, or what was next on my never-ending to-do list.
It was just me.
And tonight? It was going to be us.
I pulled out my phone, smiled to myself, and shot Zac a text:
Me:
Get ready, babe. Tonight's date night is on me. Be dressed. Be fine. Be ready. That's it.
Three dots popped up immediately.
Zac:
Say less. You know I'm always ready for you, baby. Where we going tho?
I smirked, tapping back quick:
Me:
Wouldn't you like to know? Just trust me.
He hearted the message, and I could almost feel the grin he had reading it.
There was something about turning the tables — planning something for him — that made it even sweeter.
Usually, Zac was the one pulling out the surprises, setting up the flowers, making sure I felt spoiled.
But tonight?
It was my turn.
I had already made a reservation at this cozy rooftop spot downtown — private seating, candles, city lights, soft music floating through the air.
Something intimate. Romantic. Ours.
I knew he didn't care about fancy — hell, Zac would be happy with takeout and me in one of his hoodies — but he deserved the effort.
He deserved a night where he could sit back, not worry about anything, and just be loved on.
