67. KAVI

A few years later

Sonya wrinkles her nose. "I'm traumatized."

"That's because your brother's on the wall," I say.

She groans in misery. "Be right back. Going to go wash my eyes with bleach."

In fact, she's heading to the bar. That's because it's the opening of my studio tonight. A few months ago, I finally found a physical space to shoot boudoir photography. On the wall are pictures of the Wings players not wearing much at all.

It was their idea.

The heads are cut off for anonymity. Pretty soon a packed crowd will mill around trying to figure out who is their favorite player between the scarred torso (Quinn), the insanely ripped one (Hughes), the dark chest-haired one (Emmad), and the bulky dad-bod (Matt).

Dmitri's photo, I kept for myself.

When a large shadow casts on me from behind, I smile. He smells so incredible, like he always does. Strong arms wrap around me. One, two, three kisses are peppered along the side of my neck. I turn around and grin.

"How was your treatment?" I ask.

"Great. Easy."

Dmitri goes for special treatments on his knee. His contract with the Wings was renewed for a less absurd amount of money, but still millions of dollars.

Tonight we're surrounded by friends, family, the team, and other artists from the community. Mayo also runs around, getting fed copious amounts of treats.

Dmitri's dad talks sternly to the plumber about fixing a leaking faucet. When he glances over at us, there's that tiny smile on his face. The one Dmitri inherited from him.

Around him, the Wings are arranging chairs and tables. My mom guides them around. She's got her knitting on sale today. When I offered her the chance to display it, her eyes sparkled so brightly. Our relationship has gotten steadily stronger since that talk we had in her greenhouse so long ago. My mom is one of the first people now to like the photography I post online. Sometimes she unlikes pictures just to like them again like a true somewhat technologically confused South Asian mom.

She and my dad are in couples therapy right now, figuring out how to get back to the love they started with. As for my dad and me, we're cordial. Sometimes you can't salvage every relationship fully and that's okay. He doesn't understand the real me and how I'm more than worthy of putting myself first, even if I'm not making any kind of history like he does. The one thing he did do was kick Tyler off his team. The last I heard, Tyler isn't playing professionally for anyone anymore. No one wants him.

"I can't believe it." Taking the studio all in, my hands flutter.

"I'm so damn proud," Dmitri rumbles into my ear. "Even if I'm going to miss you being on the road with me. But that's me being selfish."

I put in my notice to Tim earlier this week, thanking him for the opportunity to be their social media manager. It gave me so many opportunities, taught me so much, and boosted my confidence. For the longest time, I tried to balance both the job and my other photography interests, but in the end, I had to pick one, otherwise I'd burn myself out.

I'm betting on myself, as scary as that leap continues to be.

"You get plenty of time to be selfish," I remind Dmitri, lying my head against his chest. "Don't forget this morning."

He kept me on his lap, warming me with his cock, while we ate breakfast. It had me begging for mercy the whole time. He didn't fuck me until I was a complete mess.

His lips brush my forehead. "You know, I'm never going to get enough of you."

"I love you." So fucking much.

One of the few times Dmitri unabashedly smiles is when I tell him that.

Our fingers interlace. He kisses the back of my hand. "I love you so much, Princess."

We grin at each other.

Later that night, I'm handed a microphone. There is clapping and a chorus of yeses. People shift around to clear enough of a space, and Dmitri's dad dims the lights so the spotlight is on me.

"Hey, I'm Kavi Basra. I'm the photographer of this series."

More cheers.

I'm rubbing my palm on my dress until I find him. He's right in the front, golden eyes centered on me. You can do this, Dmitri mouths.

I can.

"Tonight, I'm excited to launch the studio and introduce a new community initiative. We are going to host weekly meet-ups, connecting younger artists to more established mentors. It can feel impossible to follow your dreams when you think you're alone or if you don't have encouragement and feedback, but that's what we want to offer."

I look at the faces in the crowd. "All of us can be afraid and unsure, and without the confidence we need. When I first started, I did not know that I didn't have to be alone in my doubts."

I smile. "Now, I haven't figured out how to quiet my imposter syndrome completely, but I do know what makes me feel seen. Love and community. So thank you for being here. Thank you for coming tonight."

I take a deep breath in. "I might have said this already, but I'm Kavi Basra. Truthfully, I can be awkward and still kind of horrible at talking about my work, but I promise I don't bite. Please have a look around, and come find me if you have questions or want to get involved. Thank you!"

I put the microphone down.

The first person I go towards is Dmitri. He captures me in his arms, the man I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with. The one I know is going to propose soon because I accidentally saw him pocket the ring a few weeks ago. It's obvious he carries it on him everywhere.

I just can't wait. To say yes.

To become partners for life.

A Note from Sookh

Thank you for reading Breaking Away !

I am so humbled and happy, and I could not ask for more wonderful readers. I can't fully explain what all your support means to me. Thank you!