Chapter 01.

As I pulled into the driveway, the weight of the day began to lift. The lights of the house flickered softly in the twilight, and I was looking forward to sinking into my cozy couch, maybe indulging in a little guilty-pleasure TV.

My show, Nashas Please, had filmed two back-to-back episodes today, and by the time the last guest left, I was ready to collapse. I kicked off my shoes the moment I stepped inside, reveling in the coolness of the hardwood floor against my tired feet.

But the moment I entered the living room, my serene expectations shattered. There was Jon, lounging on the couch, the energy of the room shifting dramatically with his presence. The bright television was alive with highlights of the 49ers' game, and the sounds of upbeat music filled the air, almost drowning out my own thoughts. I shook my head with a smile, half-annoyed but mostly amused.

"Hey, baby! Welcome home! How was your day?" Jon called over his shoulder, his grin wide as he spotted me.

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Long," I replied, my voice betraying just a hint of exhaustion. "I filmed two episodes today. My feet are killing me."

Jon lowered the music and patted the space beside him. "Come on, let Daddy give you a foot rub."

I felt a smile tug at my lips as I shuffled over to him, slipping onto the couch and resting my feet in his lap. "Thank you," I sighed, letting the tension start to dissipate. Jon's hands were warm as he began to work on my feet, kneading the aches away with skillful ease.

"So, where's Trin? Is she still on the road?" I asked, glancing at the screen, my mind still half-focused on the day's events.

Jon continued to rub my feet while responding. "She's supposed to be back tonight."

I nodded, already thinking ahead. "Okay, I'll cook tonight, so don't bother ordering in."

His face lit up, an excited grin spreading across his features. "Yippee! You better make Haitian food."

I chuckled at his enthusiasm. Ever since I'd introduced Jon and Trinity to my culture's cuisine, they'd become obsessed. It was a running joke that they were low-key learning Creole, especially when they begged for my dishes.

"Okay, Jon, what do you want?" I asked, half-hoping he'd suggest something simple.

His eyes sparkled mischievously. "Diri Djon djon ak Kribich, pikliz, Salade de Betteraves, and griot. Oh, and I want that Jus Papaye."

I blinked at him, surprised. "Jon! That's so time-consuming!"

He shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Hey, you asked me what I wanted."

Rolling my eyes, I couldn't suppress the grin spreading across my face. "I guess I better get started then."

Four hours later, the aroma of simmering spices filled the kitchen, a fragrant promise of the meal that was coming together.

I'd become adept at juggling the different elements of Haitian cuisine, but every time I cooked for them, I poured my heart into it. I wanted them to understand just how much these dishes meant to me, how they tied back to my family, my roots.

As I stirred the griot, I found my thoughts drifting. I couldn't help but feel grateful for this little family we'd formed. Jon's infectious energy balanced Trinity's calm demeanor, and somehow, together, we created a space that felt like home.

Just then, I heard the front door open. I glanced at the clock; Trinity must have just returned. After a quick shower, she joined us at the dining table, her eyes lighting up at the spread before her.

"I see you made Jon's favorites," she remarked, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

I smirked, feeling a bit cheeky. "Don't worry, I made your favorite too: Dous Makòs."

Trinity's eyes sparkled with appreciation. "Oh, thanks!"

Jon feigned annoyance, kissing his teeth. "Look at ya, was ready to throw a fit."

We all laughed as we dug into the meal. There's something magical about sharing food, about sitting together and breaking bread. As we savored each dish, I felt the warmth of togetherness envelop us.

Mid-bite, Trinity glanced at me, her expression shifting to something more serious. "So, Nashira, would you be willing to come to Nashville with me for SmackDown?"

I paused, thinking it over. I had been so caught up in my own work and the demands of the show that I hadn't considered traveling for Trinity's matches. "Of course! I'd love to support you."

Her smile widened, and a sense of pride swelled within me. The wrestling world was intense, a whirlpool of adrenaline and performance. Being there for her, cheering her on, felt like the least I could do for the incredible woman she was.

As dinner continued, our conversation flowed easily from the day's highlights to plans for the weekend. Jon's playful banter filled the room, and Trinity's laughter echoed, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. In these moments, I realized how lucky I was to have found my way into this unique family.

After dinner, we moved to the living room, where Jon flipped through channels until he settled on a classic movie. I curled up on the couch between them, enjoying the feeling of belonging.

As the movie played, I felt a familiar sense of contentment wash over me. The kind that comes from knowing that you're surrounded by the people you love, doing what you love. Life had its challenges, sure, but these evenings, simple as they were, made it all worthwhile.

I glanced over at Jon, who had his arm draped over the back of the couch, looking comfortable and relaxed. His focus flickered between the screen and Trinity, who was snuggled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder. They had their own rhythm, a dynamic that complemented mine.

"What are you thinking about?" Jon asked suddenly, his voice low, breaking my reverie.

I shrugged, a smile creeping onto my face. "Just how lucky I am, I guess."

He nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Yeah, we're pretty lucky."

Trinity stirred slightly, looking up at me. "What's on your mind? Planning our next culinary adventure?"

I laughed, enjoying the lightness of the moment. "Well, I might just whip up something special for our next dinner. I have a few new recipes I want to try."

Jon perked up, his eyes glinting with interest. "Count me in! Just don't make it too complicated this time."

"Hey, you asked for it!" I shot back playfully.

Trinity laughed, and the warmth of our banter filled the room. As the movie rolled on, I leaned my head against Jon's shoulder, closing my eyes for a moment. The sound of their laughter mixed with the film in the background was soothing, a comforting reminder that this was my life, my home.

---

Haitian cruisine mentioned ⬇️

•Diri Djon djon ak Kribich (Black mushroom rice with shrimp)
•Pikliz (a spicy condiment of cabbage, onions, and peppers)
•Salade de Betteraves (Beet salad)
•Griot (Haitian pork)
•Jus Papaye (Haitian papaya juice milkshake flavored with vanilla)
•Dous Makòs (Haitian vanilla fudge)

---

nashas ✓ 13h

I'm standing in the Bridgestone Arena, the vibrant energy of Nashville swirling around me. I glance down at my outfit—a sparkly rainbow animal print tube top paired with my black oversized jacket, emblazoned with Trinity's face on the back. My black cargo jeans and strappy sandals scream stylish, but let's be honest, they're not exactly the most comfortable choice.

As I walk hand-in-hand with Trinity, she's moving a little too fast for my liking. "Babe, you're walking a little too fast now," I call out, trying to keep up.

She chuckles, glancing back at me with that familiar grin. "My bad, but I told you to wear comfortable shoes."

I shoot her a look, glancing down at my chic sandals. "But you packed these for me," I remind her, an eyebrow raised.

Trinity purses her lips in a mock apologetic expression. "My bad," she concedes, and we continue our trek through the hallways of the arena.

We're on the lookout for the women's locker room when we bump into Bianca and Jade. "Hey!" I exclaim, wrapping my arms around Bianca for a quick hug.

"Hey, girl! You look amazing!" Bianca beams.

Trinity steps forward, introducing Jade. "This is Nashira."

"It's nice to meet you," Jade says, and we share a warm embrace.

"It's nice to meet you too," I reply, feeling the camaraderie in the air as we head towards the locker room together.

Inside, the atmosphere is buzzing. Women are chatting, laughing, and prepping for the night's events. I settle into a spot next to Trinity's bags, ready to help her get ready. "Babe, I need you to do my makeup," Trinity requests, her tone both playful and earnest.

I grab her makeup bag and start rifling through it while she begins styling her hair. As I work on her look, I feel a presence behind me. "Hey, Mela!" I squealed, knowing by the look on Trinity's face that means Pamela was standing behind me.

Pamela's voice wraps around me like a warm hug. I smile, turning to her. "How are my favorite girls in the world?" she asks, her eyes sparkling.

"We're good. I convinced Nashira to come to Atlanta for Bad Blood," Trinity replies, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Convince? You asked, and I said yes," I clarify, trying to keep the banter going.

"After I gave you a shoulder massage," Trinity retorts, and we all laugh.

Once Trinity's ready, we step out of the locker room into the sitting area where a television plays in the background. I pull out my phone, snapping selfies while Trinity chats with Pamela about their upcoming segment.

"Nashira, you need to come out on the road more often," Pamela suggests, her tone earnest.

I nod, knowing she's right. "I know, but my schedule is hectic," I admit. Between my music, talk show, and other business ventures, I've been stretched thin. But being here, seeing Trinity in her element, makes me realize I need to prioritize this time with her.

As they prepare for filming, I sit back and watch the monitors. Trinity's backstage segment starts, her energy is adorable as she interacts with Bianca and Jade. They're all buzzing about being the Tag Team Champions. My heart swells with pride as I hear them talk about their roles in Bad Blood as the hosts of the PPV.

When Pamela re-enters, she announces that she'll be calling out Savelina. I catch Trinity's eye, and a smile spreads across my face. "You did good," I say softly as she walks back toward me.

"Thank you, babe," she replies, her expression lighting up.

Bianca and Jade come over, and Jade teases, "I like how you two call each other babe—cute names for best friends."

Trinity and I exchange a quick glance. It's clear she hasn't shared the full story about us, but I don't mind. It's not Jade's business anyway.

"Thanks," Trinity says with a smile, and we dive into a conversation about our outfits for Bad Blood, excitement buzzing in the air.

Then, it's time for Trinity to head out for her match. The tension builds in the arena as the bell rings, and I can feel my heart racing along with the crowd's cheers.

Watching her is an adrenaline rush. Trinity throws Jessica into the turnbuckle, and I can't help but shout encouragement from my seat. She's fierce, executing a snapmare followed by a headlock. My stomach drops as Jessica slams her into the turnbuckle, but Trinity quickly recovers, sliding under a clothesline and landing a series of kicks.

Every move Trinity makes has me on the edge of my seat. She's a force of nature, and I can't take my eyes off her. The match flows like a well-choreographed dance, and I find myself lost in the moment—every near fall and counter sends a thrill through me.

Then, just as I'm about to burst with pride, Jessica gains the upper hand, slamming Trinity to the outside. "Get up, babe!" I whisper, hoping my energy somehow reaches her. Trinity pushes through, delivering a dropkick, then a bulldog, her determination palpable. The crowd roars, and I can hardly keep my excitement contained.

The match intensifies; every move is met with gasps and cheers. I hold my breath as Trinity goes for the split-legged moonsault, but Jessica gets her knees up. My heart sinks for a moment before Trinity reverses a pin attempt into one of her own, and the referee counts—one, two, three! Trinity wins!

The arena erupts, and I jump up, my cheers mingling with the rest of the crowd. Just then, Sefa and Jacob approach, both wearing playful expressions.

"Oh, look who decided to come out of the house," Jacob teases, raising an eyebrow at me.

I roll my eyes, ready for our usual banter. "See, don't start that shit with me, Jacoby, or else I'm gonna embarrass you in front of everyone."

He smirks, leaning in. "What ya gonna do?"

I stand up, and we square off, playful energy crackling between us. I throw a punch at his face, but he dodges just in time, laughter bubbling up from Sefa.

"Jacob, be careful now. Remember the last time y'all fought? Her and Trinity jumped you," Sefa warns, barely suppressing his laughter.

"Trin ain't here to save her," Jacob quips back.

I can't help but grin. "Don't make me snatch those dreads off your head," I shoot back, and the onlookers around us are fully entertained.

Just then, Trinity comes back, shaking her head at the sight of our antics. "Cut it out," she says, stepping between us with a smile.

We all break apart, and I can't help but feel grateful for the lightheartedness of the moment, a refreshing contrast to the intensity of the match.

As the show wraps up, we make our way back to the hotel, the anticipation of tomorrow's event in Atlanta hanging in the air. Trinity's excitement is infectious, and I know this trip will be a memorable one—because no matter where life takes us, nothing beats sharing these experiences with her.