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Novelo Rectangle

She vanished just as the year ended. The thunderous bangs of the fireworks drowned out any thoughts that ravaged his mind in the first few seconds of 2025. Their bright colors crackled across the twilight sky dotted with shining stars, only adding to the majesty of that early New Year’s morning. Weston—”West”—Holt scuffed his boots against the pavement, hands tucked deep within the pockets of his dark distressed blue jeans. The cheers and laughter around him were deafening—and the sounds only solidified his hopes for a far better year than what 2024 had offered. Everyone was celebrating.&nbsp; Now don’t get him wrong; he was antsy for what the next three hundred and sixty-five days could bring, but his mind couldn’t help the way it drifted back to what his girlfriend, Niabi, had said. Something about drinks? He didn’t exactly hear her—the noise around him did not appear kindly enough to allow him the privilege of honing in on what the girl had said. She was so flighty. Carefree yet cautious, always trying to see the bright side of things. The bigger picture. She had a good eye when it came to such things, yet she was too scatterbrained all the while. West loved her dearly, though.&nbsp; Biting back a snort of laughter, West straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders as he shifted his weight from foot-to-foot. Where had she gone? What was taking Niabi so long? Did she get trampled by the rowdy crowd? Stuck in an elevator, perhaps?—her luck wasn’t the greatest, so West wouldn’t have been surprised. Though he supposed a warm elevator stuck in one spot was better than the chilly night that enveloped the bustling, lively streets of New York City.&nbsp; The snow that gently fell spotted the thick, heavy, fur-lined flannel jacket he wore; splotching the fabric in the tiniest damp patches, the zipper drawn all the way up to block out the relentless cold. His cheeks, his nose, and the tips of his ears were painted red from the low temperatures—but he couldn’t focus on how chilly the night air was.&nbsp; “West!” The voice he knew all too well sliced the air, causing West’s heart to kick to life. Unable to contain the way he jolted in fright, a startled glance was thrown over his shoulder. Peering through the dense sea of people, West was easily able to spot his girlfriend, Niabi. The stark-white faux fur scarf she wore was a dead giveaway, as were the glass flutes of champagne she carried as she hustled her way back to his side. “Sorry!” Niabi managed a sheepish smile as her steps slowed. “I didn’t mean to be gone for so long.” Seeing the fear still alight in the eyes of her boyfriend—nine months, still going strong—her lips pulled back into the faintest smirk. “Were you worried about me, cowboy?” West stiffened, snapping out of his stupor. Despite himself, he cracked a grin. “Just a lil bit.” Pinching the rim of his hat between his thumb and forefinger, West adjusted it, accepting the flute of champagne that was handed to him with his other. “It’s so packed in these parts, girlie. Why wouldn’t I be?” “You of all people should know that I’m fairly well-versed in the way of taekwondo. I can take care of myself.” Her hold on her own glass flute tightened, Niabi’s eyes dropping to admire the designs so carefully painted on. “Look.” the young woman’s brown eyes brightened as she traced her thumb over the smooth surface. “They have fireworks painted on them. Isn’t that one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen?” “Oh, I’m lookin,’ buttercup.” He was, in fact, not focusing on the mini artwork. Rather, his attention was rapt, fully centered on Niabi. The gentleness of her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of something she was fond of—it was nothing short of magical. She was just as beautiful as the day he’d met her all those months ago, if not more. She was but a bud that ended up blossoming into the most gorgeous of roses; free of imperfections and so full of love. “It doesn’t look like you’re looking, West.”&nbsp; “You’re more interesting than pretty lil flutes of champagne, Nini.” Niabi’s eyes found his. She drank in the sight of them—a shade of teal that always managed to draw her in. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes of his. But she did not give herself the opportunity to daydream. A delicate brush of West’s cold fingers against her warm cheek brought her back to reality, coaxing a slightly brighter smile from her. “Your hands are freezing.” “I know. You’re warm from bein’ inside. I bet that was a nice break, huh?” “It would’ve been nicer if you’d come with me—” “—But we’re together right now, ain’t we?” West brushed his thumb against her smooth, freckled skin. As white as a dove’s feathers, yet steadily growing tinged with the softest of pinks. He chalked it up to the frigid temperatures. Quietly, he cleared his throat as his hand fell to settle against her shoulder. The softness of the faux fur scarf curled around her neck tickled the flesh of his calloused hand. “So,” he leaned forward, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead, “champagne, hmm?” Drawing back, he couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled low in his chest. “Thought I’d take you for a fruit juice girlie.” “It’s close enough. It’s sweet. They didn’t have juice boxes in the lobby, or else I would have gotten us a couple.” Turning her head, her lips brushed against the rough palm of West’s hand just before he drew back. “These were on the house, though, so—” The soft lull of her voice was interrupted by yet another round of fireworks going off. The way they both glanced up to spy the colorful spectacle in the sky was instinctual. Niabi shuffled closer to West’s side, the man’s arm curling around her body, pulling her taut against his side. The excitable shouts and ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ around them would forever be seared into her memory; one of the best that she would remember, as West was by her side. “They’re so pretty.” She raised the glass flute to her lips. “Loud, but pretty. Don’t you think?” “I do.” Before Niabi could take a sip, West grinned and knocked his flute of champagne against hers with a satisfying clink, earning a giggle from his girlfriend. “Loud, but pretty,” he reiterated, finally taking a moment to down the bubbly alcohol—and Niabi was quick to follow suit. Every last drop was gone within an instant. West unwrapped his arm from around Niabi, letting her claim both; holding the fair of glass flutes to her chest with her left hand, the right moving to unzip her purse. They were free, so she was going to tuck them away. There was no law that said she couldn’t. As her gaze fell, the fireworks lighting the darkened sky blotted with patches of clouds that were barely see-through, she couldn’t help the way a soft smile graced her features. “Thanks for spending the New Year with me.” Her voice was quiet, barely audible—and she wasn’t exactly sure if her lasso-slinging, country star of a boyfriend had heard her. Nevertheless, Niabi cocked her gaze right back up at the expanse of sky that hung above their heads. “It’s out first together.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as the smile she wore widened a smidge. “I especially can’t wait for Valentine’s Day. You’re going to get me a whole bunch of Sarris’ chocolate pretzels, aren’t you, West?” To her question, there was no verbal response. Only the slight shuffling of feet. “Weston?” Niabi blinked, her attention falling back down to where the man should have been standing—but the sight before her made her heart skip at least a thousand beats. Fixed on one knee, cradled in both hands a black, open velvet box. The large diamond secured in the rose-gold clamp shimmered in the light from the fireworks as they fizzled out. His eyes; so serious, yet so tender and loving. Such a gentle smile graced his lips. Niabi’s own went wide, her jaw slacking. “West? That’s—oh my God. That’s a—Are you?—” She could barely get out the words. They were becoming lodged in her throat, as was the cold air. Her heart threatened to stall. The sting of tears was quick to follow as she clasped her hands together, the champagne flutes long abandoned in her purse, just barely sticking out. His expression was so warm. His love for her could be seen—and by her reaction, West knew Niabi could see such, too. “I am.” Delicately, West tapped the small black box he held. He could feel the eyes of many settling on them, though he paid the people around no mind. They could watch if they wanted. He didn’t quite care. The only thing—the only person—on his mind was Niabi. “I should be the one thanking you for such a blessed New Year, Nini. You’ve made these past eight months the best of my damn life, and I’ve been on this planet for thirty-three years. Ain’t nothin’ ever come close to being as precious to me as you are.” He snickered, the sound low in his throat. “My mama’s my pride and joy, sure, but you—” he took a pause “—goddamn, you’re just so special.” “West.” Niabi hid her wobbly smile behind her hand, the other coming to rake through her wavy brown hair. “You’re serious? This—it’s real?” “Of course it is, sugarplum. It’s really real.” “It’s absolutely gorgeous.” “That bein’ my main reason for pickin’ it. I knew you’d like it.” “‘Like it’? West, I love it.” It was just what he wanted to hear although he’d already known she would take to the ring so quickly. Shifting slightly, he gave the tiny box and its sparkly contents a light jostle. West didn’t need to spare anyone a glance. They were staring. “Listen, we’ve got an audience.” His gaze softened. “I don’t think they wanna be kept waitin’ any longer. And I’ll admit, I’ve been shakin’ in my boots ever since I bought this little thing here.” His eyes remained trained on her, his tender smile fixed in place. “So, darlin,’ I’ve just gotta ask—will you do me the honor of becomin’ my wife? Will you spend the rest of your days with me?” It was immediate. A resounding, loud “YES!” cut through the chilled air, echoing so far. The response from those around was quick to overwhelm him; the excited shouts and jeers and whoops so sudden, it made his heart jump. But in the best way. West stood tall as Niabi giddily extended her left hand out to him—and the ring was plucked from the box, slid so carefully onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. The delighted squeal that trickled out of Niabi’s lips filled his stomach with butterflies. Just like on the day they’d first met. He barely managed to find a secure grip on his hat as Niabi threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, the erratic clinging of the champagne flutes in her purse matching the rhythm of his fast beating heart. He could feel her tears of happiness wetting the exposed skin of his neck as she nestled close—and West wasted no time in snapping the box shut, his fingers loosely filing into her hair. The final round of fireworks went off, but even that was not loud enough to obscure the words that managed to leave his fiancé’s lips: “I love you, cowboy.”

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Novelo Square

Forever Starts With You

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Forever Starts With You

Bluebirdxx

Bluebird

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Forever Starts With You

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