🅐🅡🅘 @trippinsorrows - Tumblr Blog

17h

author’s note: we've finally reached the end, my friends. it's been a ride. that's for sure. pairing: roman reigns x black!oc x jey uso warnings: angst. strong themes regarding infidelity, domestic violence, and death. psychological elements. some scenes may be triggering and difficult to read. reader discretion is strongly advised. words: 17k+ song inspo:❝ chasing cars❞ by snow patrol credit: photos from pinterest and google images. fic and chapter title graphics by me. mdni divider by @strangergraphics previous + masterlist + taglist request form

One

Two

Three

The tapping of Heaven’s almond shaped nails against the side of her thigh occur in conjunction with each deep, quiet, counted breath taken and the subsequent exhale. While her eyes remain shut during the short, simple but effective exercise learned in therapy, they snap open only a few seconds later in order to implement another learned coping mechanism. Heaven starts off easy, utilizing what can be seen without any additional movement, give or take subtle utilization of peripheral vision. She counts the walls. Four. Two more than the amount of chairs that surround the graphite gray table. White chairs with legs that look sturdy but rocked and briefly scraped against the gray concrete floor when she sat down and placed her black Hermes bag in the empty seat next to her. The buzzing of the fluorescent ceiling lights serve as a sort of buffer for the muffled outside noise. A surprising thing she noticed she being escorted in.

Heaven always thought these sort of rooms were soundproof. Made so that no sound from within traveled outward and no sound outside traveled inward. Just like the room as seen and depicted in any legal based television program or cinematic film. It just seemed like the sort of thing that made sense what with the nature of such a place. But perhaps it’s the opposite. Privacy of that nature is only allotted for the freed.

Not the imprisoned.

The guard who escorted her remains with his feet planted near the door. He offered nothing but a silent nod of acknowledgment, his left hand remaining on his holstered gun, the right resting his side, waiting and watchful. It’s appreciated. While her emotions have been all over the place from the moment she woke up this morning, any sort of anxiety or fear haven’t been because of the potential danger.

At least, not towards her.

And not in the way most people in such a situation would suspect.

Heaven redirects her focus to the faint scratches on the table and is seconds from lifting her wrist to check the time. The gold Piaget watch—a Christmas gift from Roman a few years back—the only source allotted to her to do so, her phone and other non-allowed items checked in upon their arrival. But it’s a failed effort when a sudden knock disturbs final attempts at settlement.

It’s hard to say exactly what traverses through her the moment the door opens and a room of two temporarily increases to four before descending into three. The squeak and creak of those same sneakers against the cold floor in conjunction with almost rhythmic whirring. Something locking and clanking upon final placement. Directly across from her. A quiet, barely audible and brief conversation between the two guards transpiring before the one who transported departs and the one who remains stands exactly as he’s been since he escorted her in.

The silence that follows the sound of the door closing is thick. Unintentional. Heaven has no desire to play any games, to see who will fold first. She just….she’s not sure what to say. Not really. And it’s the strangest fucking thing in the world. To be sitting across from someone that, once upon a time, she believed to be her end all, be all. The first and the last.

The reality that is theirs, however, couldn’t be anymore farther from that.

It’s been roughly two months since they’ve been in the same space. God knows how long since they’ve been physically this close to one another. And while he hardly looked like the same handsome man she was once head over heels with during the trial, the continued decline in his appearance is even more drastic.

Dark roots grown out and poorly transitioning into the faded, bleached ends. She never could understand the thought process for some of his hair choices, including the most recent cut, unevenly shaved on the sides, a sort of mullet in the middle. It’s roughly the same with the only difference being the obvious lack of refreshed color. Faded and dull. Similar to his eyes. Deep, dark, heavy bags that were almost non-existent before the ruination. Chapped lips. Slightly gaunt cheeks. He’s lost some weight. Maybe a lot. It’s hard to tell what with the almost baggy fit of his orange jumpsuit, a size too large or just ill fitting altogether. Insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Comfort is the last thing prioritized in such a place and for such a person.

“You come to gloat?”

His voice takes her back. She hasn’t heard him speak since….

It’s been a long time. He’s said not a word throughout the entire trial. Not during any of the testimonies given. Not even her own. As she often tearfully and angrily testified. Relaying in detail the litany of atrocities committed during their marriage. Including the retelling of what she now knows and recognizes to have been abuse. Abuse that, all things considered, and in the most heartbreaking of ways, weighs lowly on the scale of egregiousness regarding his actions.

A few one worded responses to the judge, but even those were muttered, with him often being asked to repeat himself. And at that point, Heaven had tuned him out.

But there’s no doing that when he sits right across from her.

Her silence is clearly irksome, the irritation in his gruff voice increased. “Came to rub shit in my face?”

Heaven stills. Just continues to stare at him offering nothing more than a poker face and a surprisingly, easily crafted stoic expression. If she was unsure what level of anger and rage still remained, she’s almost sure now that it’s all but dissipated. Or rather her purpose outweighs her emotions.

Either way, she maintains the calm.

She lifts a perfectly arched brow, refusing to show and give him anything other than facts. “You haven’t been sentenced yet.”

“You a lot of things, Heaven, but stupid ain’t one of them.” He scoffs. “We both know how this shit gon’ turn out.”

He’s not wrong.

There’s no denying that whatever sentence will be issued three days from now, it won’t be light. It also won’t be what he deserves though.

Heaven is almost certain that there is no sentence that adequately fits the depth of his crimes.

Not in this life anyway.

“Why are you here?” He issues his question once more, volume once again transcending to the next level. The first and only flash of anything in his empty eyes making a brief appearance. Anger. “I already saw what you had to say.”

That was, in the strangest way, one of the things throughout this whole process that she detested the most. His having the right to read her victim impact statement ahead of time. She understood it from a legal standpoint, but morally, it felt unfair. It felt unfair that he had the legal right to protest and defend himself from facts that he can’t dispute, even if he wanted to. The strong case presented by the DA all but cemented that.

Heaven desired to witness and see his face as she read aloud the six page letter she wrote, edited, scrapped, rewrote, and picked apart line by line for almost two weeks before settling on the final draft. Wanted to watch in real time the live reaction to her raw, uncut, final words. But sitting across from him right now, seeing the same heartless man she saw that day as he hovered over her, choking the life out of her, fully intending to take her life….she knows now it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Even in real time, his reaction would be the same.

Nothing.

“You’re right.” She nods, dark red lips pressed together. “I did already say what I have to say.” A beat. “But you haven’t heard what she has to say.”

A quick flick of her eyes to the guard in the corner of the room results in him walking over to the door. Jey turns to the man before looking back at Heaven.

“What’s going on?”

Naturally, she ignores him. Instead angles her body towards the door the guard knocked on twice. A few seconds later, it opens, and for the first time since she sat down, something warm floats through her chest.

For a moment, she’s surprised. She expected him to be holding her, as he always and usually does when escorting her. But then Heaven remembers. Remembers the request made.

She asked to walk on her own.

Hence the way he simply holds her hand.

Her black pleated shirt brushes against her knees, white socks with black ruffles sticking out past the tongue of her sneakers. Her white shirt, tucked into the skirt, is a size too large but was her preference. A portion of his tribal tattoo, covered in gold, the outline of his famous Superman punch sprawled across the middle of her chest. Her dark hair is pulled up into two space buns, gold butterfly clips clipped near each. A gold bracelet on each wrist and necklace to match complete the look. The splash of rainbow fur, clutched against her chest with her left arm, pointed ear lightly brushing against her jaw, is a contrast to her otherwise monochromatic outfit. Her lips are pressed together and her chin is held high, but when she locks gazes with Heaven, there’s a shift.

The feet of the chair screech loudly when Heaven scoots back, opening her arms right as Macy breaks away from Roman in exchange to greet her mama.

Heaven closes her eyes and sighs softly. “Hi, baby,” she murmurs into the top of Macy’s head, her daughter’s fingers digging at her arm. Creating an anchor. A safe space to land and deplane. Heaven briefly meets Roman’s guarded gaze only for it to quickly switch to the man across from his girls. Small bumps sprout across the back of her neck.

If looks could kill….

It’s more or less the same way he’s looked at Jey since the start of the trial. When he did allow himself to look. Majority of the time, Heaven kept her hand intertwined with his or one on his bicep. Keeping him grounded.

In more than just the physical.

Macy shifting in her lap redirects her focus, however, as her brave little girl repositions herself so that she no longer has her face buried in Heaven’s chest. She’s instead facing the man she once called daddy.

And for the first time since the onset of the trial—even before that—Heaven observes something different in Jey. A short, brief glimmer of something other than anger, hate, and disdain.

They’re still present but far less intense.

It’s welcomed. Provides a modicum of relief in a situation Heaven still isn’t 100% sure she was right in agreeing to.

And she knows Roman feels the same.

Lord knows that when Macy first brought up her desire to see Jey, to speak with him, the ‘no’ couldn’t come out fast enough. A delivery that could have been better, for sure, but it was such a jarring, unexpected, anxiety inducing question that Heaven knows both she and Roman immediately went into fight or flight. Answered from a place of fear and panic.

Understandably so.

There’s a reason they were adamant from the very beginning about keeping their daughter as far away from Jey as possible. While they prioritized filing for a lifetime restraining order, they also implored Heaven’s parents to see what legal strings they could pull, if possible, to expedite the process of Jey’s parental rights being terminated so that they could begin the process of having Roman legally recognized as Macy’s father. Her safety, healing, and erasing any connection and right Jey had to Macy were number one on their list.

Thus them being floored when she asked not once but several times about this. Even brought it up to her therapist, Mack, hence a collaborative meeting with all four to discuss where such a thing came from and best ways to handle it.

Heaven knows that both she and Roman entered that session all but convinced that they weren’t going to change their minds. There was a reason the DA hadn’t even considered calling Macy to testify. On top of her being too young, given the nature of the crime, it would be far too traumatizing to put her in such a situation.

And Macy has already been traumatized enough. Been through more than any seven year-old should have to overcome.

To say her journey since the fire has been difficult would be an understatement.

A year later, she still can’t sleep by herself. They’ve tried on a few occasions, and each one has resulted in Macy hysterical, in tears, and on the brink of a panic attack. Even the aid of Candy, their 2 year old German Shepherd, and Macy’s ESA, sleeping at the edge of the bed doesn’t stop her from burying herself into Roman’s chest, Cookie in her arms.

And even when surrounded by every source of comfort she’s identified, there are still nights where she wakes up screaming, crying, and kicking, haunted by nightmares Heaven knows all too well.

She’s had a handful herself.

But a mother’s priorities will always be her children.

Macy’s separation anxiety was so severe in the weeks following her discharge from the hospital that either Heaven or Roman had to be with her at all times. Even leaving her in a different room of the house produced a level of anxiety that had her eyes watering and arms reaching for someone to hold her. So much so that when they attempted to drop her off at school for the first day of first grade , they’d barely made the hall before she was running out the classroom, tears streaming down her face, crying, “please don’t leave me!”

They ended up pulling her from school, Roman hiring a private tutor to come to the house to teach her for the remainder of the school year.

And while Candy and consistent therapy have helped immensely, enough to where she’s now back in school, a month into the second grade, she still has her moments. She always will. Just like her mother, Macy was diagnosed with PTSD in the month following the fire. She’ll never be the same exact child she was before, but then again, neither will anyone else involved.

No one has or ever will be the same, because that’s how survival works. You escape with your life but not without the version of yourself that existed before that trauma. That part of you is lost forever. Never to be found.

Never to be regained.

Alternatives were offered. The most obvious being Macy writing a victim impact statement just like her mom, and she was open to that. As long as she could read it to him. In person. Additional suggestions either met with dislike or the same additive of her somehow speaking to Jey personally, it became abundantly clear that this wasn’t just something Macy wanted.

It was what she needed.

And that realization was something Heaven, while not thrilled about, understood. Jey abandoned her. The person who was supposed to protect her left her. Even as she cried and begged for him not to. Heaven and Roman were able to speak their peace. Testifying throughout the trial and even just being in the court room, present and aware of every development and outcome from each day of said trial granted them a voice. Their letters being the final nail in the coffin. Macy has not been granted that level of space to express, and thus, her almost need to utilize this moment for just that.

To finally have her voice heard.

“What the hell?” Jey finally breaks from his stunned silence, eyes nervously flitting to the guard. “I ain’t agree to this.”

But the man remains as he has since the very beginning.

Silent.

“Sure you did.” Heaven tilts her head to the side. “Remember? Your lawyer said you signed off on it.”

Jey opens his mouth, and she’s partially prepared for him to say something out of pocket. Her arms instinctively tighten around Macy, but nothing comes out. He instead curses lowly, looking away before nodding to himself.

“Right…” He turns to her once more, and it’s not lost on her how he seems to intentionally keep himself from looking at Macy. “You are a Jackson.”

She raises her chin, wise enough to not comment on what most likely goes over Macy’s head, perhaps the guard as well. Heaven takes great pride in knowing that her parents, for how accomplished they are and have been, especially as African Americans, have never been the ones to play the game. The one where machinations run rampant and blackmail is a form of insurance. Television and overall media have been known to sensationalize, but they’ve never been entirely wrong.

Truth exists between the dramatization.

Clarence and Shelia, however, reached the level of success they’ve attained through hard work and unmatched dedication and determination. The only thing they’re devoted to more than their careers is that of their daughter, and especially their granddaughter.

There isn’t anything they wouldn’t do for Heaven and Macy.

Hence why it was nothing more than a simple favor for them to pull some strings behind the scenes to ensure that Jey wasn’t aware of this meeting really being for Macy. Not Heaven. She knew that if he knew Macy wanted to see him, he’d immediately say no. Not that that would necessarily make much of a difference, either.

Again, there are a plethora of perks that come with being the daughter of Shelia and Clarence Jackson.

Including rules being malleable.

“Actually,” she starts, feeling the way Macy holds Cookie closer to her chest, much like herself, her comfort stuffed animal presents with marginal outward indicators of survival. Despite the house she and Macy once called home more or less destroyed beyond the point of rehabbing, the firefighters pulled Cookie from the wreckage and despite obvious sighs of wear and tear, the body of Macy’s favorite stuffed animal remained enough for repair vs replacement. Hence Roman tracking down and sending Cookie to a stuffed animal restoration service that had their little girl’s stuffed companion looking just as it did before the fire.

If not better.

“I’m a Reigns.”

Heaven sees the moment his eyes drop to her hands that are locked in front of Macy’s stomach. Her left hand intentionally over her right. She picks up on the exact moment anger flashes in his irises that reflect the 10-carat, elongated cushion, D-F color, VVS clarity diamond rock on her finger.

And so is she.

An unspoken twist of the knife in his back. A knife he grabbed and intended to use against her.

She just got the upper hand.

“Macy has something she wants to say to you.”

It’s as she reminds Jey of the purpose of this meeting that she once more witnesses the shift. The way he presses his chapped lips together, an unspoken response—or retort—retained as Macy wiggles on her lap.

Heaven’s grasp tightens once more.

“I—I just wanna say that—that you were really really mean to me.” There’s something about her opening statement, words that Heaven already heard and read—but words that carry with them a different weight leaving her mouth—that demands the focus of the room. Even as she stammers, there’s an undertone of determination and anger that stirs up a whirlwind of emotions in Heaven. “You hurt my feelings and you hurt my mommy, and I don’t like you anymore!”

“Macy—”

She doesn’t even give him the opportunity, doubling down on what Heaven and Roman have heard several times over now in a variety of manners. “You’re a bad bad man and a big meanine, and I’m glad you’re not my daddy cause you were a really bad daddy.”

“Macy, please—”

“And I don’t wanna see you anymore, or—or ever again, you—you, butthead!”

Anyone without context of the situation unfolding would, perhaps, find the interaction humorous. This little girl, holding a stuffed animal, with her face contorted in anger, her arms protectively wrapped around her stuffed animal.

But for Heaven, it’s a sight that nearly brings tears to her eyes. Macy, sitting across from this man who almost caused her to lose her life, a man who should have protected her only to abandon her in her greatest time of need, expressing so clearly and without hesitation her raw, unfiltered sentiments. Infantile wording aside, it’s one of the most fortitudinous, powerful, admirable things Heaven has witnessed in some time. If ever.

She holds Macy tighter, closing her eyes and kissing the top of her head.

I’m so proud of you.

An unspoken expression of admiration in comparison to the almost dumbfounded countenance that Jey wears, lips remaining pushed together, nothing but silence in the wake of Macy’s brave address.

It’s then that Macy turns around, looking up at Heaven, her little fingers moving against Cookie’s stomach.

I love you, mommy.

Heaven swallows. Macy dismounting off her lap allows her to sign back, I love you, too, baby girl.

Acknowledgement that makes her firstborn beam brightly before she dashes over to Roman who’d silently observed the entire interaction. He bends down and meets Macy just in time as she throws her body against his. Heaven watches him stand back up and kiss her temple, murmuring something that makes his expression soften for the first time. Big hand cradling the back of her head before his eyes close. Another scene that tugs at Heaven’s heart.

The love he holds for his daughter is sempiternal.

Heaven clears her throat and wipes at her watery eyes just as Roman opens his. Nonverbal communication between them, a small nod from her husband before he turns to leave without another word, Macy still in his arms.

Her amazing, lionhearted little fighter.

“So that’s what this is about?” Jey’s grating voice forces Heaven’s attention as she drags her gaze back over to see whatever shock that was bred in the midst of Macy’s speech is long gone. That same vexation returned in its stead. “You just wanted to rub shit in and use her to do it?”

Heaven blinks once, and then twice, her mouth opening and closing before she manages a whispered, low, single word. “What?” But it’s when he says nothing, turning his head and running his hand over his haggard looking face, that something starts to brew within. “That’s what you got from this?” She leans over the table, nails digging into the metal, eyes narrowed. “She almost died because of you.” Even saying it aloud makes Heaven feel as if a boulder has been dropped onto her chest, voice clipped and tight. “She cod—”

Silence

Some things…..some things are just too painful to revisit. Having to discuss, in detail, the nightmare that was Macy’s hospitalization, including that moment, is something she can’t bring herself to relive. Hasn’t even allowed herself to process in therapy.

She can’t.

Heaven shakes her head and adjusts her purse. Scoots back in the chair and starts to walk away when a loud banging sound forces her to turn around. Out the corner of her eye, she sees the guard in the corner drop his hand to his waist. Over his gun. But she raises her hand, eyes focused on the man before and below her.

“And I ain’t suffered?” Jey huffs. Heaven watches with a muted expression as he too backs away from the table for the first time. Studies the motion and movement of him rolling to the side of the table, the large wheels squeaking against the floor. Slowly rakes her eyes over his body, once strong and padded with muscles and fat that fit his frame. That worked for him in a way that carried him to what ended up being the peak of his career. Now withered away. Thick legs and thighs all but slim and lithe. He’s far from skin and bones, but the pronounced bulge of his knees that pokes out again the jumpsuit confirms that he has lost a lot of weight. Understandably so.

A man who was once active from the day he could walk, who everyone always joked at having ADHD given his inability to stay still for too long, rendered still in an unforgivable, permanent way. Healing from the beating that broke several ribs, punctured his lung, and left him clinging to life eventually came in the form of an almost two week long stint in the ICU. But the single bullet lodged in his back, the location an impossible one for surgeons to operate on and remove, wasn’t as forgiving. There was no recovering from that. The bullet severed his spinal cord. His paralysis from the waist down, initially thought to perhaps be temporary, permanent and creating a different kind of punishment. One, in many ways, Heaven knows that, for Jey, will always outweigh whatever sentence awaits him.

Because the sentencing is punishment that offers flexibility. The confines of the prison with various rooms and extension that offer small, minute tastes of what freedom looks and feels like. Equally cruel as it is welcomed for some. A reminder of what impends of what will always be eluded. Reward perfectly balanced with consequence.

For Jey, there is no flexibility with this consequence.

Heaven knows that that’s what tears him up the most.

Prison isn’t his punishment.

Paralysis is.

And he admits as such, angrily gesturing down to his lap. “I’m never getting out of here, and even if I do, what the fuck am I gon’ do?” His bottom lip trembles, something rising and simmering in his undertone. “I can’t do shit!” He snaps, scoffing and shaking his head, resting and leaning into his despair. “My career over. Life over. Ain’t nothing I got left but my anger.”

Heaven stares at him. Stares at this man she once thought hung the sun, moon, and stars in the sky. That she truly believed would be her forever until the day she died. And, in a strange, wicked sort of way, that was almost the case.

She almost died because of him.

Macy almost died because of him.

No…..murdered.

They were almost murdered because of him, and even now, in the face of two lives he almost took—one with deliberate intention and the other with callous negligence—he still can only think about himself.

He hasn’t changed.

And he never will.

Heaven lifts her eyes to his, met with nothing but dense hostility and self-pity. All of which bounce off and land in the pile of irrelevance and insignificance, right where they belong.

Just like him.

“Goodbye, Jey.”

Jey Uso, former WWE Superstar and cousin to fellow WWE Superstar Roman Reigns, was sentenced on Thursday to 40 years in federal prison on several charges, including the attempted murder of his now ex-wife, Heaven Reigns. This comes after a month long trial that included over 700 pieces of evidence presented to the court, as well as both Mr. and Mrs. Reigns taking the witness stand to testify. The story has received massive media coverage both domestic and abroad given the celebrity status of the involved parties as well as the scandalous nature of the case.

Mr. Uso’s rapid downfall came on the brink of an illustrious career and seemingly perfect family life. In 2024, at the peak of said career, Uso, while watching the then five year-old child he shared with Heaven, became intoxicated (his BAC was later revealed to be 3x the legal limit) and passed out with a cigar in hand. This resulted in the home catching fire. Uso escaped with minor injuries, but the child, Macy Reigns, was severely injured and placed in a medically induced coma. She was hospitalized for almost two weeks before being discharged.

Uso and Reigns [Roman] reportedly engaged in an altercation at the hospital while the child was being treated, and witnesses reported that Heaven then revealed Mr. Reigns as Macy’s biological father. This, as referenced by the prosecutors during the trial, was believed to be the major catalyst for Uso’s violent attack.

Jey reportedly sent Roman a threatening text message approximately an hour before tracking down Heaven at The Four Seasons, where her parents, famed attorneys Shelia and Clarence Jackson, had booked a room upon learning of the fire. It was there that Jey assaulted and attempted to murder Heaven. Roman reportedly arrived at the hotel prior to authorities and attempted to de-escalate the situation, but a scuffle ensued between the two men, which resulted in Mrs. Reigns being shot.

Heaven underwent emergency surgery and was intubated and heavily sedated for 48 hours. She ultimately recovered and was discharged a week later.

A manhunt then ensued after Uso attempted to flee but was eventually found three days after the shooting following an anonymous tip. Reports surfaced that relatives of Uso and Reigns were complicit in helping him evade authorities, but no charges were ever made in conjunction to this claim. Uso was later found unconscious, beaten, and shot in an abandoned home. Doctors were reportedly unable to remove the bullet from Uso that severed his spine and left him paralyzed from the waist down. Following his release from the hospital, he was formally arrested by the Tampa Police Department.

Both Mr. Reigns and his son, San Franciso 49ers player Nathan Reigns, were initially listed as suspects in Uso’s shooting, but both were cleared when the shooter turned himself in. It was then revealed that Mr. Reigns then wife and Heaven’s cousin, Camryn Reigns, hired a hitman to kill Jey Uso in fear of his disclosing their alliance and stratagem.

Subpoenaed texts and phone logs revealed that both Camryn and Jey engaged in a years long affair that dated back to high school. Emails allegedly showed the two discussing and planning their lie regarding Nathan Reigns paternity to avoid Jey being a teenage father and Camryn believing Roman to have more “potential” than his cousin. Other emails and texts also revealed constant communication over the years that prosecutors highlight to emphasize malicious intent and coercion. This included Camryn reportedly walking Uso through ways to save his marriage amidst alcohol addiction and abuse that Heaven disclosed while on the witness stand.

Several mental health and medical professionals involved in the care and treatment of both Heaven and Macy also took the witness stand. It was reported that Macy was diagnosed with PTSD several months after the fire and had to be homeschooled because of extreme separation anxiety. In addition, it was also shared that she remains unable to sleep alone and now has an emotional support animal, the latter of which came at the recommendation of her therapist. Now eight, she is reportedly back in school but remains in consistent therapy.

Heaven, who was three months pregnant at the time, left her job at a law firm where she worked as a paralegal, while Reigns also took an indefinite leave from WWE. In spring of this year, it was reported that Heaven’s petition to have Jey’s parental rights terminated and Roman legally recognized as Macy’s father were granted. It’s also been reported that Macy’s last name was legally changed to Reigns.

Around this time, Roman’s former wife, Camryn Jackson, was sentenced to 30 years in Florida Department of Corrections. Jackson was being tried in two separate cases, one of which was Solicitation to Commit First-Degree Murder. The other charges were for a slew of crimes regarding her businesses including, racketeering, money laundering, witness tampering, and more.

She was found guilty on all charges in both cases, despite it being rumored both she and Uso were trying to work out deals with the DA to share key information regarding their crimes in exchange for lighter sentences.

These deals, seemingly, failed to materialize.

In addition…..

OP: This a continuation/combined thread from the initial one following Jey Uso’s trial. I know we hate these two tabloid cesspools, but they have the most recent, up to date information. https://www.tmz.com/2026/09/08/jey-uso-sentenced-to-40-years-update/ https://www.dailymail.com/sport/wwe/article-157513/jey-uso-found-guilty-in-attempted-murder-trial.html

——————

@sayyestoheav3nn: YES! This might just be the best thing I’ve read all day idc. 🥺

@annoyedkayah2395 THAT’S WHAT HIS ASS GET. I KNOW ROMAN AND HEAVEN SO HAPPY.

@unapologeticqueen94: Won’t He do it! It’s still so crazy to me how this all played out. 😩

@unapologeticqueen94 replying to @annoyedkayah2395: Same. And to think what had already been spilled on here was only the tip of the iceberg….

@mackfinstathrowitback: Good riddance. I hope he rots in that prison for the rest of his miserable ass life.

@privateeyes95: H and R must be so relieved that this is all over.

@youluvego: Still say they should have left his ass in a burning house. Without the wheelchair. 🙂

@aldrigmer444 replying to @youluvego: I wish you could hear the way I screamed at this. 😭

@suhlestuh: Someone pointed out earlier in the thread how in the the photos of Heaven and Roman walking hand in hand, in and out of court throughout during the trial, you could always see/tell how distraught she was in the afters. ☹️

@beas-mind replying to @suhlestuh: Can you blame her? Some of those recaps from the court reporters were hard for me to listen to. I can’t imagine how it was for them.

@nadadork: I read somewhere that they had to take several breaks throughout the whole thing because Heaven kept breaking down on the witness stand. 😕

@fearlesschimera replying to @nadadork: Yes and no. It was said one or two times she needed a break while testifying about Jey’s abuse and Macy’s recovery journey. The other breaks were during testimony given by others.

@mytribalnightmare: I don’t know how she did it TBH.

@southerngirl41: I’m still kinda shocked how much we saw Roman in all of this. He’s usually so private.

@xnightmarexpunkx replying to @southerngirl41: I’m not. Idk how private anyone could be with how public this all has been. Not to mention, it’s obvious he’s deeply devoted and in love with Heaven. It’s always been obvious tbh, but with how he openly admitted and acknowledged it during the trial confirmed it.

@diamondlifeee: This really is the best thing ever. Macy and Heaven finally got the justice they deserve. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

@callmekayd: He really did put it all out on the table in that trial.

@differenttastemakerkitty replying to @callmekayd: He kind of had to or else he’d be held in contempt of court.

@palmwinemami: Naw. He could have plead the fifth like his slow ass cousin.

@drivefouronthefloor replying to @palmwinemami: Jey didn’t even do that. He didn’t testify at all, and I don’t blame him. The case against him was so solid and the defense so weak, there really wasn’t anything to say to dig him out of that big ass hole he put himself in.

@/livingandlovinglife26: Got the notification and started crying at my desk. As a DV survivor and mother myself, Heaven’s story has resonated so deeply with me.

@/stupidbitch1: Am I missing something here? Yeah, Jey tried to kill her, hence the attempted murder charge, but prior to that, it was the punch in the ER and another years prior. Not condoning any of it, but I just find it weird how some folks are trying to make this and Heaven out to be something that it’s/she’s not.

@/annoying1 replying to @/stupidbitch1: Shhhh. Not so loud. Her defense squad gon’ come after you, girl. 🙃

@/stupidbitch1 replying to @/annoying1: Thank you! The way everyone is trying to make it seem like she was some poor, battered housewife is insane. Her parents are famous lawyers. She grew up privileged and rich. If Jey was this horrible monster the entire time they were together, she had plenty of options. And she couldn’t have been too scared of him to be openly fucking his cousin who was also her cousin and supposed “sister” husband. Come on now. 😒

@beas-mind replying to @/annoying1 and @/stupidbitch1: You both sound so ignorant right now. I truly don’t know where to start. It’s obvious you haven’t read the court transcripts or just….educated yourself on the specifics of the case. DV is DV. Isolated or consistent, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. All wrong. Heaven said herself during her testimony that she truly hadn’t remembered the abuse and that it wasn’t until a conversation with her mom, ironically, the day of the fire, that triggered the memories. Even the expert witness cosigned this being a common thing amongst many survivors.

@sayyestoheav3nn: We really got people in here defending an abusive ass alcoholic who almost killed his daughter and literally tried to kill his wife….

@/dumbhoe1 replying to @/stupidbitch1 and @/annoying1: Don’t waste your time or breath. These people so biased. It’s appalling.

@jayjayem1999 replying to @/dumbhoe1: Biased how? Everyone is literally laying out facts.

@/stupidbitch1 replying to @jayjayem1999: Yes. Facts to support their biases. Let’s call a spade a spade. Only reason ya’ll riding so hard for Heaven is cause she’s a brown skin, monoracial black woman. She’s also a cheater and a liar, but ya’ll not trying to hear that.

@annoyedkayah2395: YA’LL DONT LIKE THESE TWO BUT IN THEY THREAD??? IF YOU DON'T GO ON SOMEWHERE AND BE STEVIE WONDER TF

@/annoying1 replying to @/stupidbitch1: Exactly. Not to mention the self-haters that are trying to live vicariously through her cause of that hoe ass light skin man she stole from her cousin.

@unapologeticqueen94 replying to @/annoying1 and @/stupidbitch1: I KNOW ya’ll not talking about Camryn trifling ass. The same cousin who literally been scheming and plotting against this girl since they were kids? Who gave Jey Heaven’s location knowing his ass wasn’t trying to bring her no flowers? Who gave Jey almost 100k after his dumbass almost bankrupt he and Heaven solely because she didn’t want her cousin leaving SlowMan cause she knew Roman was gon’ divorce her ass to be with the real love of his life? Who KNEW Jey was abusing her cousin and was smiling in Heaven face while secretly advising him on ways to manipulate Heaven into staying with him? Who PAID for the engagement ring that Jey proposed to Heaven with? A proposal that only happened because Camryn trifling ass TOLD him he needed to propose cause it was the only way to keep Heaven from leaving him after he sent her to the ER?

@privateeyes95 replying to @unapologeticqueen94: Don’t forget how she and Jey literally pinned a child on Roman she knew wasn’t his and Jey knew was his. Just because she wanted to trap Roman.

@chocovibesonly: Ya’ll, don’t pay the Free R Kelly gang no mind. They been all up over this site throughout the whole trial saying the same problematic shit. It’s gotta be rage bait at this point.

@annoying1 replying to @chocovibesonly: We’re rage baiting for holding a black woman accountable for wronging another black woman? Heaven was literally fucking that man all over CAMRYN’S house. Had him pretending to be that child’s uncle when she knew all along he was the father.

@southerngirl41 replying to @/annoying1: Like how she knew Jey was Nathan’s biological father?

@callmekayd: As someone who’s been fully engaged with any and all information regarding this trial and the situation as a whole, Heaven and Roman were wild and wrong for carrying on as they did. But when you look at everything Jey and Camryn did, how they orchestrated everything so that H and R wouldn’t be together. Hurting whoever they needed to in the process with no regard for anyone else…Heaven and Roman did nothing wrong.

@tribalray10 replying to @callmekayd: I agree with all of this. It’s crazy as hell when you think about it because in most situations, H and R would be dragged through the mud, but all they are is two people who love each other and were kept apart because of fake ass, evil ass, jealous ass people. 😓

@fame-ass-ers: I know this is probably the wrong time to bring this up, but am I the only one still shook and clutching pearls by all the details that came about Heaven and Roman’s sex life? 😅

@unapologeticqueen94 replying to @fame-ass-ers: LISTEN!!!! We knew his ass was putting her through that mattress, but the way my jaw dropped when they asked about how often they was getting it on, and they both said several times a week. Sometimes twice a day. 😩😩😩😩

@jaded-human replying to @fame-ass-ers: Wait, whaaaatttttt? How I miss this!

@fame-ass-ers replying to @jaded-human: Girl, yes. One of the folks who was attending the trial gave all the details. I believe it was part of Jey’s weak ass defense attempt to villainize Heaven and attack her character. I’ll PM you the link.

@Incog: Wow. So I guess cheating is okay if you’re brown or dark skinned or pretty. You’re all disgusting.

@Incog: Did he pick any of ya’ll yet?

@Incog: I’ll wait.

@chocovibesonly: @/The Admin Thread Derailment and Incognito Abuse

@itskii01: Sometimes I really wish Condi would close this shit off and stop allowing new members to join. 😒

@Incog replying to @itskii01: Who’s Condi?

@itskii01: I rest my case.

The corner of her lips slowly but surely stretch and lift until the smile spread across her face makes her skin feel taught and tight. Small, barely visible lines sprouting near her eyes that squint when she makes the transition from inside to outside. Her Gucci flip flops slapping against the quartz stone as she lifts her her hand to create a makeshift visor from the scorching sun that illuminates the backyard.

A backyard that’s filled with a variety of sounds—music, chatter, laughter—that last one being the thing to make the warmth bloom in her stomach. Walking across the patio to the rattan loungers that line the pool, a loud gasp leaps from her mouth at the same time the leap of a body into the pool from the diving board snatches her focus.

Breathing is briefly halted. Her fingers grasp at the sheer material of her orange bikini cover, knotted on the side and sitting right above the pudge of her stomach. She scratches her nails against her thigh, feeling the tips dig into her skin. The tightening sensation in her chest canceled out by the sight of two bodies emerging from under the water.

Macy’s happy laughter does away with Heaven’s tension, her shoulders falling and relaxing at the sight of her sweet little girl.

Arms raised happily, her hair tucked away and under her swim cap. A set of tanned arms around her body, his own hair weighed down by the water. Loose, short curls sticking against the side of his face. Nate smiles and lifts his hand when Macy turns to look at him, securing a high five before he gestures to Heaven.

Macy’s eyes light up. “Mommy!”

Heaven’s smile deepens. Nathan lets her down and wades with her as she swims to the edge of the pool where Heaven meets her. He helps lift her from the water as Heaven leans down and carries out the rest of the task. Macy beams up at her mom, signing, did you see me, mommy?

Heaven laughs and signs back. Sure did, baby. You’re doing such a good job.

Nathan scoffs from where he leans over the side of the pool, inked arms across the stone. “She’s got a good teacher.”

Heaven rolls her eyes as Macy, clueless to what was just said given the absence of her hearing aids, turns to him. I’m gonna swim faster than you some day.

Nathan sucks his teeth and shakes his head. No way. Never gonna happen. He kicks off the wall, lips turned into a smirk as he manages a quick, you’re too slow.

Macy gasps and spins around, giving herself just enough space to “run” as she jumps back in the water.

Heaven waits until she emerges, Nathan once more near and close, ensuring she stays afloat as she splashes water at his face.

“Be careful.” Her warning is accompanied by her quick signing, Macy’s focus back on her brother as he continues to help her strengthen her swimming skills. It’s still a bit of a struggle, what with her being in the water without her hearing aids. But it’s one Heaven is working through, and seeing how happy it makes her baby is more than reason enough for her to learn how to manage her discomfort for the sake of he child’s happiness.

Macy more than deserves it.

“Mama!”

Heaven snaps her head to the side, once more, that familiar warm, glowing feeling in belly rising and traveling, wrapping itself around her heart.

“There’s my baby.”

Assisting in closing the distance, Heaven reaches her arms at the same time her mom does. Shelia’s arm secured under her bottom, dark coils damp and dripping small droplets of water down her honeyed complexion. She wears that happy smile and grasps at Heaven’s hand while she kisses her temple.

Shelia watched the interaction with an undeniable expression of pride and lighthearted humor. “She started wiggling the moment she heard your voice. Or saw you come out.”

“She knows her mama.” Heaven giggles, looking down at her youngest daughter. “Don’t you, Lia?”

Kalia beams up, pouty lips stretched and revealing all 11 of her teeth. 12, if you include the small speck of white starting to protrude from her gums. Something she’s recently made sure her parents don’t forget about via her screeching and whining. Especially when it’s time for her to eat.

Shelia stands before her daughter and granddaughter, reaching and caressing the back of her head. “She looks so much like Macy when she was her age.”

Heaven briefly darts her gaze from her baby daughter to her mother. “She does.” Outside of Kalia’s complexion being a few shades lighter and her texture slightly looser than Macy’s, a side by side photo would otherwise indicate, at the very least, fraternal twins. The differences, so far, seem to be more personality based than appearance based. Macy was always a calm baby. Kalia….not so much.

Heaven shifts her daughter from one side to the other, allowing her baby girl to tug at her hair with one hand and grab at her boobs with the other. It makes her chuckle quietly. “Where’s—”

“You already know.”

A quick dragging of her gaze behind her mother makes Heaven chuckle once more.

Of course.

She grabs Kalia’s little hand, helping her wave goodbye before the two make their way across the yard. The smile growing on mother and daughter’s face as the distance closes, sun shifting and highlighting several side profiles, including the first who turns from the grill to greet them.

Turns just enough for Heaven to meet another set of eyes, smaller, just like the rest of him. Chunky arms and chubby cheeks that stretch into a smile as he opens his mouth, making loud happy sounds.

“Mama!”

The same word. The same warmth and joy that blooms in abundance.

Heaven steps up onto the patio, her father and Jimmy’s attention set on her as she leans over to kiss the top of Kanoa’s head, coils softly brushing her lips.

“Hi, baby boy.”

Her son.

Naturally, she straightens up just in time to catch Roman’s mouth for a quick peck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, right as she adjusts Kalia once more when she starts wiggling her arms. An expected reaction, as is the next thing.

Whining and bailing from both babies who are now looking at each other, both wearing the same pout and scowl. Small, short arms wagging in the air, as if swatting away a pesky gnat. Except the gnat is each other.

Roman sighs. “There they go.”

And without any words needing to be said, they exchange babies. Heaven holding Kanoa, and Roman holding Kalia. It grants momentary peace as the parents affectionately interact with their 13 month-old twins, but it’s a short lived span of peace.

The babbling, whining, and wiggling resume.

Clarence chuckles, arms crossed as he shakes his head. “And to think those two shared a womb for nine months.”

Jimmy chimes in as Heaven kisses Kanoa’s little palm. Roman manages to flip over the burgers on the grill as Kalia attempts to pull his hair from the hair tie. In a couple minutes, Heaven has no doubt, she’ll find success. She always does. “So much for the family tradition of tag team champs.”

“It’s just with us,” Heaven sighs, looking between her youngest as they continue to exchange “words” and attempted blows, all in the name of jealousy. “They don’t do it with anyone else.”

And they don’t. Most of the time, Kalia and Kanoa are thick as thieves. Interacting and playing just fine, even sharing in ways that most babies their age struggle with.

Except when it comes to their parents.

If Kalia sees Roman or Heaven holding Kanoa, whatever adorable smile that was on her face is wiped away with the quickness. A tantrum unfolding within a matter of minutes. And vice versa with Kanoa. It’s almost as if they want their parents to themselves. Don’t want to share. Sometimes a funny thing to behold but also something both Heaven and Roman pray they grow out of.

Sooner rather than later.

“Food’s almost ready,” Roman updates, Heaven nodding, turning to see her mom sitting near the edge of the pool, watching Nathan continue to assist Macy with her swimming lessons.

Candy on the other side, on her stomach, tongue out and tail wagging. An understandable placement. She’s never too far from Macy. Not far at all.

True to his word, dinner is served not too long after. Thus, gathering everyone around the two Teak wood tables that are conjoined together to accommodate the large group of individuals. Not to mention the two high chairs that are pulled up, each placed right next to Heaven and Roman. Both remain unused. Kalia and Kanoa instead opt to “sit” on their parents laps, often reaching and attempting to steal from their plates, despite being fed the appropriate portions for such young babies.

“I’m telling you,” Shelia starts, wiping at the corner of her mouth, her gaze set across the table where her daughter and son-in-law sit. She lifts her hand, index finger bouncing between the two, the light reflecting off her wedding ring and highlighting the subtle sparkles in her ruby red nail polish. “Those two are gonna be the ones to test ya’ll.”

Beside her, Clarence nods, offering agreement and a point of distinction. “Macy was never as wild as they are.”

Heaven rolls her eyes, bouncing Kalia while guiding a chunk of her Hawaiian bread that she broke off to her mouth. Naturally, her fingers grab at the bread that she plops in her mouth, chewing slowly as if needing to make sure it tastes the same as her last few bites. “Daddy.”

Roman lifts his head, momentarily distracted from interacting with Kanoa, who uses that brief distraction to swipe a fry off the plate, and turns to his wife. Heaven, seconds away from panicking, never more grateful to see her father had been looking at something on his phone, as had her mom. Thus the way she elbows him, earning a quiet grunt as she looks at him with an unspoken, “are you insane?”

Unfortunately, while the interaction is missed by, perhaps the people it needed to be missed by the most, that’s not the case for others.

Nathan stares across the table with an undeniable look of disgust. “If ya’ll want me to go to therapy, then all you gotta do is say so.”

His comment catches the attention of Macy who sits beside him, at the end of the table, Candy laying on the ground beside her, Cookie in her lap. She looks up at him with a bright smile. “Are you gonna see Mrs. Tess, too?”

Tess being Macy’s therapist she’s worked with weekly since the the fire.

“He gon see some lady, that’s for sure.” Jimmy’s unnecessary addition earns him a similar response as Heaven to Roman. He grunts loudly when Naomi slaps him on his arm, muttering something lost under the chatter of the rest of the table. Primarily on the other end where Clarence, Shelia, and Patrice, Roman’s mother, are in the midst of laughing at something completely unrelated to the NSFW interaction that, somehow, managed to remain under the radar.

For the most part.

Patrice’s lips stretch into a smile. She lifts her glasses to the top of her sandy brown hair, cut in a short bob that brushes against her jawline that’s sharp, much like the rest of her features. While Roman held a close resemblance to his father, his smile, the same as Patrice, reveal how much of his mother’s looks he inherited just the same.

“That explains it.” She blots the corner of her eyes with the back of her hand, gesturing over to her son. “Roman was just like the twins as babies. Always moving. Always wanting to get into something.”

“See, that was Heaven when she hit her terrible two’s. Prior to that, she was a little angel. Proved that we did right by naming her what we did.”

“Well, ya’ll should have named those two—” Jimmy snaps his finger, face contorted in deep focus, majority of the adults already knowing it’s about to be some shit with him. “What’s the name of them twin girls from The Shining?”

“Jimmy.”

“Uncle Jimmy.”

“Jim.”

Various sounds of protests and chastening evoke a temporary respite with the colored commentary from the self-proclaimed comedian in the family. Jimmy lifts his hands, palms carrying lingering crumbs from the meal he’d all but devoured less than ten minutes after stacking his plate with an ungodly amount of food. Somewhat similar to Roman. But in her husband’s defense, he’s sharing his with their son who seems like he’s going to take after his daddy’s side of the family when it comes to appetite.

Boy can eat. It’s partially why Heaven was relieved when she started the process of incorporating food into the babies’ diets. It seemed like every hour on the hour Kanoa was wanting to nurse again. Developing motor skills allowing his loud cries to eventually transition into the groping, smacking, and squeezing of her breast. Even now, she has to correct him when he attempts to reach inside of her bra.

He’s determined as hell, too.

“Fine, I’ll change the subject,” Jimmy smacks his teeth, looking over at Heaven as she helps hold the cup of apple juice that Kalia is currently drinking from. “Heaven, how’s it going working for that Mormon lady?”

She closes her eyes as Roman makes a sound beside her.

“Jim,” Naomi expresses, exasperation splashed all over her face and voice as she turns to look at her husband. Silky, dark tresses splashed across her shoulder, smooth, beautiful melanin shining and shimmering under the sun that sneaks past the shade allotted by the Reigns covered patio. “You got one more time.”

“She’s not Mormon, Jimmy,” Heaven corrects while also offering an answer. “But good. Really good. I like it there, and she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“Most Mormon people are, so I hear—”

“Jimmy!”

“What?” He defends, shaking his head, saying something that’s missed as Heaven looks over at her dad.

“Wait, is the organization Mormon based?” Clarence turns to his wife, Patrice also paying attention what with the way she looks between the involved parties. “Did you know that?”

“It is not a Mormon organization,” Heaven stresses, leaning back in her chair, bouncing her leg as Kalia moves to stand up on her lap. “And my boss is not Mormon. But even if she was, that wouldn’t have stopped me from accepting the position.”

And it wouldn’t have.

There were several variables that Heaven sat on and pondered over deeply before ultimately making the decision to leave the place she’d worked at for so long in favor of something that was both old and new.

The biggest one, perhaps, was returning to work after….everything that happened. That they were still in the midst of. Macy. The trial. Having twin babies that weren’t even a year yet. All of it.

Heaven can still recall the similar expressions she received when initially bringing it up to both her husband and parents. They thought she was crazy for wanting to return to work so “soon.” Were all, essentially, in agreement that she needed to allow herself the continued, necessary time to heal and adjust to all the changes.

She didn’t necessarily disagree.

She was still working to find her rhyme and rhythm in several areas of her life, and it wasn’t even working, itself, that was calling her name. That resonated with her. Forever a woman with a strong work ethic, family always came first. Always.

But it was the nature of the work that captured and snagged her attention.

It was the organization.

Alma’s Hope.

The largest, domestic, non-profit organization focusing on providing resources and safe havens for women and children seeking asylum from abusive households. They have shelters all over the country and even a few in Mexico. Heaven was familiar with the organization, had come across the name a few times over the years, but it was when she was looking up something recommended by her therapist that she stumbled across them once more. A chance reminder of something that, at one point in her life, she would have sworn up and down would never be a part of her story.

Never in a million years did she think that she’d end up a survivor of domestic violence.

But she is.

And it’s still something she’s trying to come to terms with, has focused on in a handful of therapy sessions.

Like many, Heaven had a generic, default definition of such a thing. A conceptualization formulated based off of stereotypical media depictions. Most more overt examples. Heaven didn’t have to spend extra time in the mirror applying makeup to hide bruises that only multiplied as time went on. She wasn’t being isolated from her family. Wasn’t constantly trying to come up with excuses to explain to the ER doctors how she’d sustained such injuries. Not on a consistent basis. It did, eventually, occur. The isolated incident where Jey’s verbal and emotional abuse while battling alcoholism escalated into physical abuse.

He’d hit her.

Left her bruised.

Left her bleeding.

Left her sitting on the edge of the patient table struggling with an excuse to feed that would be believed.

She was in the mirror, tears streaming down her face as she tried to hide the bruise. That was her, and coming to terms with that, with the fact that Jey’s abuse started long before the night he tried to kill her, has been nothing short of difficult.

But it’s also been liberating and empowering. Largely due to Heaven reaching out to the local shelter and learning what made and makes Alma’s Hope so different than the “usual” safe havens. The infinite number of resources, from therapy, insurance, monthly vouchers, and housing allowances when those seeking asylum “graduate” from the in-house program and are placed in secure subdivisions owned and overseen by the organization. A massive collective striving to protect and educate. And when Heaven attended one of the support group meetings for women who weren’t actively in a DV situation, didn’t require protection, but were looking to define and navigate what “after” looks like, she knew that she wanted to contribute. Wanted to give back more than she received. That, unexpectedly, came in the form of a job offer from the CEO. A position within the legal department that offered an unheard of level of flexibility. Hybrid with a full slate of benefits, regardless if Heaven opted for part time vs full time. Decent, salaried pay. Paid, mandatory mental health days in conjunction with unlimited PTO. If Heaven hadn’t personally met and interacted with several staff members, including the founder herself, she’d have balked. It was too good to be true, but it wasn’t. It was very much true, and it was something Heaven almost felt like she had to accept.

Not because she felt pressured. But because it felt like a necessary component in this next chapter of a new, different, scary, yet somehow improved life of hers. Eventually coming to terms with what she’d survived and using it to support others like her.

Other survivors.

Thus, when she explained it that way, she was met with newfound sense of understanding and agreement from Roman and her parents. And a few months into the acceptance, she has zero regrets. Heaven loves what she does now. Still paralegal work but for a completely different cause and reasons.

Reasons that matter so much more than anything she’s done prior to this.

“How many kids?” Nathan’s wide eyes in conjunction with his exclamation break Heaven from her thoughts. Especially when he turns his focus to her. “You sure they ain’t Mormon?”

“Oh my God,” she murmurs, eyes closed, head tilted back. “If ya’ll don—”

“Mommy. Daddy. What’s Mormon?”

Macy’s unexpected insertion into the conversation, her voice soft and curious, prompts Heaven to open her eyes and lower her head to see Macy “sneaking” food to Candy.

“Something you’re not allowed to be.”

Heaven snaps her head to look at Roman, Kanoa fisting and pulling on his shirt. “Roman.”

“Baby girl is right,” Jimmy cosigns, his loud ass chewing muffling his voice and commentary that not even a mouth full of food can stop. “We Baptist over here.”

Nathan shakes his head, pointing out, “dad, grandma, and basically that entire side of my family are Catholic.”

“That’s close enough. Baptist and Catholic are just second cousins, twice removed.”

But as the majority of the table admonish Jimmy for being, well, Jimmy, Heaven can’t help the small smile at play on her face.

She smiles because as out of pocket his commentary is, the entire conversation is, it’s a dynamic, at one point, she thought to be lost forever.

She thought a lot of the dynamics regarding several individuals sitting at the table to be lost and gone forever.

Heaven is far from naive nor is she stupid. Regardless of the fact that Jey’s crimes far outweigh anything she did or could have ever done, she recognizes that her own actions, Roman’s actions, even without the violence that followed, would have fractured the family unit. The deception, secrecy, years long affair, withholding true paternity while feigning a false one, and everything else that got picked up and flung at she and Roman during the trial by the defense, would shatter anyone’s family. And in many ways, it has.

Rikishi and Tala haven’t spoken to Heaven and, subsequently, Macy, since roughly three months following the fire. And that last interaction was nothing short of nasty. Harsh, hurtful words from both ends that ultimately resulted in no contact. An outcome Heaven knows would have been reached regardless when they chose to stand by Jey during the trial. Believed and sided with the defense in that it was Heaven’s actions over the years that contributed to his “psychotic break.” Her knowingly and “openly” engaging in an affair with a man she always knew to be Macy’s real father while constantly “badgering” and “vilifying” an “innocent” man.

But they weren’t the only ones.

Several members of Jey and Roman’s side of the family sided with him. Have cut off contact with Roman as well.

The bulk, however, have all condemned Jey’s actions and denounced him altogether.

Including Jimmy.

That….that will always be the most surprising thing to Heaven. Not because, morally speaking, it didn’t make sense. It made all the sense. Jimmy witnessed Jey assault her in the hospital, and if that, for whatever reason, wasn’t enough, everything else certainly was.

It took a little time, sure. A few weeks of Jimmy disengaging from everyone, needing time to collect himself. Heaven understood it. Roman, however, was less understanding. Believed that it should have been an immediate, “fuck you” to Jey.

She disagreed.

There’s being brothers, and there’s being twins. Having grown up with the guys, she knows how close Jimmy and Jey were. Has seen firsthand how Jimmy always tried to look out for his little brother. She grieved on his behalf. Losing a brother in the way that he did, in some ways, is a worst fate then death. Death, arguably, would be easier. There’s finality in that realm. No options or wonderings. With this, there will always be, she’s certain, a part of him that wonders if and how things could have been different.

Sometimes she, too, wonders the same.

Breaking away from the table isn’t terribly difficult. Handing off Kalia to Roman was initially met with a scowl and whining—from both the babies. But dissatisfaction at being “abandoned” is set aside in favor of her youngest redirecting her irritation to her brother who was more than ready to match energy. The last thing Heaven overhears is Roman lecturing the twins for swatting at each other.

Yeah….

Something tells her that while Macy seemingly has zero interest in wrestling, that won’t be the case for the twins.

The minute they’re old enough to be put into some sort of sport, Heaven will be first in line to ensure their spots. They have way too much energy that needs to be channeled in a healthy manner. One that won’t send their parents to an early grave. She’s almost certain the strand of gray hair her hairdresser pointed out at her last appointment is solely due to them.

Leaning back against the counter, her thumb swipes up the last open app on her phone when she darts her eyes up from the screen.

Her small smile met with a similar one. Head craned up, she hits the side button, placing it on the granite behind her. “Hey.”

Nathan walks to lean against island so he’s standing opposite of her. Mirroring her position, he crosses his arms over one another, dark ink, old mixed with new, a brief reminder of what’d resulted in her subtly nodding towards the house for him to follow her.

“Hey,” he greets. His eyes narrowing, sprouting small, minimal lines around his eye area, makes her smile deepen. He looks so much like Roman when he does that. “You gon’ tell me what’s up?” But an expression of suspicion morphs into horror. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

And now Heaven is the one mirroring him, her eyes widening. “Absolutely not. You know your dad got a vasectomy.”

It was a decision they’d come to shortly before the twins were born. An easy one, too. Neither one of them were interested or wanting to expand their family anymore than the current members. Hence his vasectomy and her tubal litigation.

“Well, I don’t know. You working for that lady with 18 kids and counting—”

“Nathan.” Heaven rolls her eyes and shifts her weight from one foot to another, the quiet laughter between them dying down and allowing for the transition into what she really wants to discuss with him. Needs to. “She reached out to you again, didn’t she?”

And just like that, any trace of humor disappears. He looks away, tip of his tongue wetting the corner of his mouth. “Look—”

“Nathan,” Heaven interrupts. It’s never been in her nature to be that person. To not allow for free, open communication. But similar to Roman, she knows Nathan like the back of her hand. Knows that he’s so much like Roman that anything to come out of his mouth next would be deflection and unproductive, thus her interruption. “I told you before, and I’m gonna say it again, what happened between myself and Camryn had nothing to do with you.”

“A—”

She steps closer. “It doesn’t change the fact that she’s your mother, and at the end of the day, if you want to speak with her, if you want to try to repair things with her, then baby, that’s what I want you to do.” Heaven shakes her head, voice softening, “don’t allow my situation to dictate yours.”

Because despite this conversation happening once or twice already, that’s exactly what’s happened.

Heaven knows for a fact that Nathan hasn’t spoken to Camryn since that day in the hospital, the altercation in the hallway where she unknowingly revealed several life changing truths. And it wasn’t even a conversation between mother and son in as much as, it seems, a dissolution of the pairing.

She learned through Roman that Nathan was contemplating a visit to see Camryn in jail while she was awaiting trial, but he’d changed his mind last minute. He also hasn’t responded to Cam’s attempts to speak with him, information Heaven obtained through her parents legal connections. Again, she would never use them to benefit herself, but she’d damn sure use them for the people she loves.

And she has.

“That woman stopped being my mother the minute she told him where you were.”

Nathan’s cold, emotionless response to her heartfelt message is both doleful and surprising. For one and many reasons.

Heaven will be the first to admit that her own feelings towards the woman she once considered a sister more than anything are….complicated, to say the least. Macy being on the brink of death was terrifying enough to the point that Heaven finding out about her cousin and husband having an affair exposed via sex tapes wasn’t something that had really registered at that moment. But the confrontation at the hospital, learning that Camryn had lied to and manipulated her about Nathan’s paternity, amongst other things, triggered something. It triggered anger that would only and exponentially extrapolate over time as all of the skeletons started being yanked from the closet.

The years of lies.

Of scheming. Of plotting.

Of…..evilness.

How someone she shared so many special, precious moments with was at the same time the mastermind behind some of Heaven’s darkest moments, too. The ineffable concept of this woman who she’d laughed with, cried with, gone through life with—from first kisses, first heartbreaks, late night clubbing, and Mari concerts that were often documented in IG posts now scrubbed from a profile that’s as barren as the relationship, sisterhood, between two cousins—was nothing more than a facade. Kindness used to cloak and conceal transgressions. The entire time Heaven believed Camryn was helping her keep pressure applied to gushing, painful wounds, she was also the one who caused said wounds and always had another knife cunningly hidden behind her back, just waiting to be used.

Heaven still can’t quite comprehend what she could have done so egregious to warrant her cousin, starting back to when they were kids, doing anything and everything she could to keep Roman for herself. Her commitment to ensuring Heaven never learned of and realized that her now husband has wanted and loved her far longer than she ever realized.

How Camryn played such a critical, pivotal role in keeping Heaven from the man she now knows, without a shadow of a doubt, is her soulmate. The man she was always supposed to be with.

That sort of realization, however, is what started to attenuate her anger. Allowed the hurt to bleed in, and God does that shit hurt.

But Heaven never ever wanted or wants her pain to influence the young man before her.

She reaches to touch his arm. “Nath—“

“She knew what he was gonna do, and even if she didn’t, all that other shit she did?” Anger flashes in his eyes, his arm tense under her palm. “Naw….she’s dead to me.”

Heaven closes her eyes. “B—”

“I didn’t lose anything.” He’s the one interrupting now, prompting Heaven to take a deep breath and will her eyes back open to see Nathan looking down at her. “I never had anything to lose regarding her in the first place.”

Words that break her heart, because as dispassionate as Nathan can be, often taking after his father when it comes to heavier emotions, there will always be that little boy inside of him that grieves never having that relationship with Camryn she knows he wanted for so long. Even if he won’t admit or acknowledge it, Heaven knows it to be true.

He continues, in true Nathan fashion, curbing the heaviness with lighthearted humor. “I’ve got my dad. I got Macy. Future lil’ Bonnie and Clyde—”

It’s minimally effective, provoking a small, budding grin. “Nath—”

“And I got my mom,” he continues, voice and eyes softening, the corner of his lips also tugged upwards. “I’ve always had her.”

At that, Heaven has nothing to say, nothing to follow up with in terms of stressing and emphasizing true support of whatever he wants. Whatever relationship he desires with his mother, she is 100% behind. She just wants him to be happy and true to his wants and needs. It’s only in that moment, however, that she realizes those needs don’t come from the woman who brought him into this world.

Perhaps they never did.

They came from her.

They always came from her.

Emotion stirs as she steps forward, reaching and pulling his down into a hug that he effortlessly and gleefully accepts. Her eyes shut, clamping and concealing the tears. Heaven kisses the side of his head. “I love you, Nathan.”

His arms enclosed around her, reciprocating her verbal and non-verbal acts of affection and love, are wholeheartedly solidified when he gives life to what’s always existed just below the surface. “I love you, too.” A beat. “Mama.”

“Mommy.”

“Yeah, baby?”

Heaven closes the book, placing it on the nightstand and turning around just in time to see that instead of sitting on the edge of the bed or climbing off, Macy is still tucked in, hands holding up her blanket. Cookie under the pink and purple princess bedding beside her and Candy lounged at the floor of the bed, on her stomach, eyes shut but ears perked. Always alert until she knows for certain that her charge is sound asleep.

“I think….” She trails off as Heaven comes to sit on the bed beside her. Macy then meets her mother’s worried gaze. “I think I wanna sleep in my room tonight.” She then quickly adds, almost nervously. “Me, Cookie, and Candy.”

Heaven grows quiet as she observes her seven year-old daughter, partially waiting for her to change her mind. To claim it as a joke of sorts, though she fails to see the humor. Just like she fails to see any indication that Macy doesn’t mean exactly what she just said.

“Babies are down.” Heaven turns to see Roman walking into the room, rubbing his hands together as if knocking away invisible, lingering residue. His hair down, but the lasting effects of the hair tie evident in the way his dark tresses are naturally smoothed back like he’d laid it down with a silk scarf. His dark blue shirt fits snug around his big arms and clings to his chest while the flannel pajama pants have a looser fit and flare down at the bottom, brushing against his Ugg slippers. His nighttime look completed by the dark rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

Perfect timing.

Heaven shakes her head, working to find the words that feel almost strange, almost wrong once they leave her mouth. “Macy…” She waits until he walks over, sitting on the other side of the bed, reaching over to caress Macy’s temple. “Macy wants to sleep in her room tonight.” Roman lifts his gaze from his daughter to his wife. “Alone.”

His eyes immediately return to Macy, expression shifting from that of adoration to concern.

“Macy….”

She squints and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Jey went away to where the bad people go, right?”

Heaven rolls her tongue across the back of her bottom row teeth, a simple but effective technique to avoid the toll such a brief, unexpected conversation is having on her. Primarily Macy’s most recent question. Not just her wanting an additional layer of reassurance, but the use of his name.

Macy hasn’t uttered it since before the fire.

“Yes, baby,” she finally answers. “He’s going away for a very very long time.”

Forever, essentially. The fact of the matter is that Jey will never see the light of day again. The day of sentencing, in the courtroom full of individuals who were either on one side or the other, most in support of Heaven and Co, was the last and closest experience he’ll ever have pertaining to “freedom.”

Jey will die in prison, and that’s just a fact.

But she’s not done. Macy flips her gaze back to Roman, her little lips pressed together, voice softening again. “So he can’t hurt me or mommy again, right?”

And once more, Heaven closes her eyes, unable to hold back the burning sensation of tears she’d give anything to keep at bay.

“No, he can’t.” Roman answers with swiftness and sincerity, his gaze focused on her as he cups her face. “And I won’t let anything or anyone ever hurt you or mommy ever again, I promise.”

Words that Heaven takes to heart and pockets for another day, time, and setting. Him accompanying her on several therapy sessions, her own, Macy’s, and even collab sessions between all three, has revealed that Roman still holds a moderate—probably more—amount of guilt regarding what happened. He blames himself, and Heaven hates that.

Hates it with everything in her, but she also somewhat expected it. In many ways, Roman is a traditional man. Believes his job as a man is to be a protector, and despite Heaven not being his legal partner at the time, and his identity as Macy’s biological father still an unspoken truth, he believed his duty was to protect them. And in his mind, he didn’t. That’s just how he views it. No matter how many times Heaven has attempted to convince him otherwise.

Similar to how she’s attempted to talk him into getting his own therapist, something he’s consistently put off. Cited wanting to focus on Macy, her, and the trial before exploring that. Partially true. Mostly avoidance behavior.

Classic Roman.

But it’s something Heaven is determined to not give up on.

She won’t.

She can’t.

“Then we’ll be okay,” Macy supplies, offering a small smile as she looks down at the end of the bed. “Right, Candy?”

Her four legged best friend’s response is a lift of her head and small bark, followed by her climbing up and laying down as she did on the floor, just now on the edge of the mattress. Right where Macy can see and reach her.

Where she needs her.

“May May, are you sure?” Heaven asks once more, her daughter turning her head to look at her. “You know you can sleep with mommy and daddy as long as you need to.”

“I know,” she answers in that mellifluous voice that Heaven craves when her baby girl isn’t around. Macy being homeschooled until she was able to successful transition back to attending brick and mortar spoiled Heaven. Roman, too. “But I don’t need to anymore.” Her eyes flick between her parents, voice raising an octave, embedded with a hint of pride. “I’m not scared anymore.”

Heaven’s mouth drops ever so slightly, as does that weight in her chest that collapses to the bottom of her stomach. She briefly makes eye contact with Roman, who, despite his efforts to remain emotionally indiscernible, is incapable of completely containing his emotional response to such a simple but powerful statement.

One that means the fucking world to a set of parents who’ve only wanted and done everything within their power to support and help their daughter. To provide Macy with everything she’s needed or could need over the past year and some change in healing from a trauma no child should have to face. It’s been one of the hardest things Heaven has personally had to go through, had to witness. And yet, here she is. Their brave little girl.

Their Macy.

Hugs, kisses, and a final reiteration to come wake them up if she needs anything, anything at all, are what follow. Roman and Heaven lingering near the door, watching as she signs a final I Love You before cradling Cookie and turning over on her side. Candy lifts her head once more only to immediately lower back down on top of Macy’s short legs. Final, protective placement.

A nonverbal act of reassurance.

I got her.

The minute they’re back in their bedroom, double doors closed, Heaven turns around and closes the distance between the two of them.

“Hey,” she starts, smoothing her hands up Roman’s chest, gently ruffling his shirt. “Roman,” she continues, deepening her voice just enough so that he looks down at her instead of at the closed doors as if doing so will make Macy’s knock come sooner. Because she knows that’s exactly what he’s expecting. “She’s…she’s okay.”

His jaw ticks, and she lifts her left hand to cup his face. “And if she isn’t…” Another noticeable, visible flash of concern in his eyes that she attempts to quell. “Then she knows where to find us.”

As they always have and always will make themselves readily available for their children.

No matter what.

His reluctance remains, however, prompting Heaven to opt for another angle. “Come on.” She leans up on her toes, pressing them into the soles of her slippers. Heaven kisses his cheek and drops her hand to grab his. “Let’s go shower.”

Persuasion starts to take its course as he flicks his eyes flick over her body. His right hand lowers and cushions her hip, soft material of her dress embedded in between his long, thick fingers. “We already showered.”

“Not together,” she corrects. Heaven tilts her head to the side, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his coarse, rough knuckles. “And are you really turning down an opportunity for us to be naked together—”

A knock on the door immediately yanks them from the moment, but while it tosses Roman back into fight or flight mode, Heaven was able to pick up on the nature and pattern of said knock. Hence the way she tightens her grip on Roman’s hand when he moves to walk towards the door.

“Don’t let me interrupt ya’ll from being nasty.” Nathan’s voice sounds from the other side. Heaven, having kept her eyes on her husband, noticing the way his strong shoulders drop, the definition of his side profile slightly minimized. Relaxation setting back in all around. “Just wanted to tell you I’m heading out.”

Roman frowns as Heaven moves her body against his, wrapping her arms around his waist. She wastes no time in mouthing, ‘date’ when he looks down, his lips making a silent ‘oh’ of acknowledgment. “Alright. Text us when you get there. Have fun. Be safe.”

“I will,” Nathan agrees. “Love ya’ll.”

“Love you, too.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

Synonymous responses followed by the soft sound of footsteps from the other side that eventually fade into silence.

Roman looks down, returning his wife’s embrace, hands on the small of her back. “Isn’t it kind of late for him to be going out?” He lifts his wrist, verifying said time as Heaven bites back a smile. “And how the hell did he find time to squeeze in a date when he’s gotta be back in Cali—”

“He’s 24, Roman,” she reminds, lips curved into a wry smile. “Besides, I think he really likes this one.”

At that, his brow props upward, hand smoothing over the curve of her ass. “Yeah.”

Heaven nods. “Said he might even invite her to the next game we attend so we can meet her.”

“Damn,” he curses. “It’s that serious?”

She bites on the corner of her lip, quickly working on a reply that both satisfies without oversharing. “Something like that.” If things continue to go well between Nathan and the girl he’s been seeing, consistently, for the past three or so months, Heaven knows that he would like to be the one to explain to Roman the….situation. Primarily the young woman’s occupation.

A stripper.

Err, midnight ballerina, as she’s seen them called on social media.

At first, she was a little surprised. Skeptical. Fell right into that outdated hole of judgment and stereotypes, but then she remembered that this is Nathan. Like his father, he’s good at reading people. Not to mention, he’s far too astute to “allow” himself to be finessed and manipulated. If he says this girl is good people, that’s good enough for her. She trusts his judgment.

And so does Roman.

But his first instinct always has, and always will be, to look out for his son. That includes anyone who might be looking to use or take advantage of a young man who’s making more money in one year than some might see in an entire lifeline. Not to mention the investments Roman made Nathan setup the minute he signed his first contract, on top of a college savings account that’s remained untouched since its creation when Nathan was 10, as his entire four years of college were covered via his scholarships.

Add in his personal savings, no touch savings, and even the account Roman has set aside with money solely for Nathan, despite Nathan not knowing about said account…..he’s set.

Loaded as fuck.

Like father, like son.

Roman just wants to protect not only Nathan, but his assets and likeness.

Thus, she knows it’s best to let father and son handle that conversation when the time comes. She’ll just be there to offer support and insight when necessary.

And something tells her, especially given how cautious Roman has become after everything over the past almost two years, that he’s going to be guarded.

She can’t blame him, either.

Heaven yelps when he slides both hands under her ass cheeks and hikes her up onto his waist. Starts to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he starts walking them towards their connected master bathroom.

Almost an hour later, bodies cleansed and moisturized, courtesy of the effective, talented hands of one another, they’re laid up together in bed. Roman between her spread legs, his fingers making light caresses up and down her glowing skin. Her own hands embedded in his hair, down and air dried in its naturally voluminous state. She works her fingers through his scalp, all the while watching how he keeps his eyes open but his hand to the left of him near the phone that’s remained dark since they climbed into bed. The baby monitor situated on the nightstand on her side of the bed also another source of silence, as the only sound that fills their master bedroom is that which filters through the double doors that lead to the forever busy, boisterous city that is Miami.

At one point, amongst many other discussions occurring in the wake of the fire that all but obliterated the home Heaven once shared with her ex-husband and Macy, there were talks of moving. Leaving the city. Transitioning elsewhere. Tampa, near the top of the list. Heaven and Macy staying/living with him in the house he once shared with Camryn just wasn’t an option. As many memories it held, some good, some bad, some somewhere in between, both Heaven and Roman agreed that there was more discomfort with making it their permanent residence than benefits. Even more, he wanted to find a place for them that carried no memories but the ones that would be made in this new chapter of his life.

A new start required fresh soil and a solid foundation to be built upon, and if not for the time it would take to build and include what exactly he’d prefer their home to have, that’s exactly what they would have done. But it all worked out, as he’d hired the same realtor who helped him find the house that’s now sold and the one they live in now that’s, somehow, even larger and grander than the last.

Not that any of that even mattered to Heaven. She just wanted a home, and any place that had him, Macy, the twins, and even Nathan, was home.

Granted, she will never deny the peace that comes with being in a place that’s not borrowed or stolen. It’s hers.

It’s theirs.

“Are you working Bad Blood this year?”

Her question is a gentle stir to the silence. She watches and feels the subtle rise and fall of his big body against hers, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“Not sure yet.”

At that, she rolls her eyes, tilting her head to the side, uncaring of the way he keeps his lids shut. “You know you want to.” The small smile playing on his full lips as he takes another close mouthed breath confirms as such. Heaven mimics his actions, also sighing, lips pressed into his temple. “Do it, babe,” she murmurs. “You know we’ll be there to cheer you on, Mr. World Heavyweight Champion.”

When Roman told Heaven that he was taking an indefinite leave from WWE, it came at no surprise whatsoever. With everything that occurred—Macy, Jey, the pregnancy—it only made sense that he too took a step back. Like herself, his priority was supporting Macy and navigating the legal fallout of everything that occurred. But as the months passed and they neared almost a year since Roman stepped away, Heaven started to drop subtle hints regarding his tentative return timeline. Not to rush him, far from it, but rather to let him know that it was okay. That they were okay, because she knows her husband better than anyone on this earth.

Knows that he would never return. That he would just leave his elimination at the 2025 Rumble as his final in-ring appearance. That if it was between work and family, he would always choose family. That, for Roman, there was no choice to make.

It was just family.

Period.

But while healing and recovering often require finding a new norm amongst the wreckage of the storm, if something can be salvaged, like the items not completely destroyed and damaged by the fire that almost took their daughter’s life, they should be retained. Heaven knows how much Roman’s career means to him. All the work he put in to get to where he is. All the sacrifices. It felt wrong to not encourage him to reclaim something she knew brought him joy.

Even more, juxtaposed to the year prior that’d been so focused on Jey, so catered towards launching his star, there was almost a petty part of her that wanted to see Roman take back everything he’d selflessly helped his cousin obtain.

“2025 was his year,” she said, sitting on Roman’s lap, hands on his cheeks, the sound of their kids playing in the background a soft buffer. “You make 2026 your year.”

And he did just that.

Heaven can still recall the way she jumped the moment the opening of his I Am Greatness theme played throughout Michigan Stadium. The way her eyes instantly shifted to Macy who’d insisted on keeping her hearing aids in, to the way her twin babies smiled and wiggled, even with their own headphones on. As if the powerful, magnetic sound of the beating drums demanded their attention and focus even without being directly heard.

Heaven has attended plenty of Roman’s shows over the years, but his surprise, unannounced return at the 2026 Royal Rumble remains the loudest pop she’s ever heard. The only thing to outdo it was the thunderous applause and roar of celebration that flowed throughout the stadium when he tossed Gunther out that ring.

When he won.

Tears filled her eyes watching the way he dropped to his knees, panting, sweating, holding onto the rope, head down. The gold writing etched on his gloves and in his custom Nikes. The names of their children. Of her. The way Macy clapped and cheered happily in Nathan’s arms as he too expressed congratulations. Kanoa and Kalia, six months old and oblivious to the specifics of what occurred, also beaming with joy, feeding off the jubilation that surrounded them.

Heaven had never felt so relieved that she pushed Roman on the subject of bringing them. She knew he could do it, knew he would do it, and she wanted to ensure he knew they were all there to support and cheer him on.

No one knows just how deeply his win, and subsequent backlash, back in 2015 affected him. Heaven has a pretty damn good idea. Better than most. But even she is not exempt from being shut down and having the conversation diverted at any attempt to get him to open up. It hurt him. Deeply. A hurt that, in her opinion, was largely chipped away by such a win and recapture of glory eleven years later.

Most of that healing and rewriting of history, however, came not from applause vs boo’s. It came from the presence of his family, of the kids, of herself, all of whom had a front row seat to one of the best sights she’d witnessed all year. Smiles stretched and spread when he climbed out of the ring and met them ringside. Nathan hyping and dapping him up. Macy wrapping her arms around his neck, wiggling and moving in unwavering excitement. Similar to that of Kanoa and Kalia, though far too young to understand what just occurred, offering babbles lost under the sound of his theme blasting throughout the stadium. And when he finally reached her, shifted his eyes from their youngest to her, bent over to hug and hold her as she stroked the back of his neck, it was all but confirmed.

Without a doubt confirmed when two months later, a similar outcome, response, and reaction as he won the World Heavyweight Championship in the main event of WrestleMania. If Heaven thought the pop for his rumble win was something, the one at mania nearly left her ears ringing for almost two days straight.

But it was all so so worth it. Everything about that night was magical and special. From his moving, almost sentimental entrance—slideshow of those who came before him and who he works to this day to honor and respect—the names of the kids and herself, again, etched and sown into his gear, and especially in the emotional celebration that, once more, occurred ringside.

That…..that meant more to him than any win.

His family.

“I’ll think about.” Roman’s answer tugs Heaven away from the recalling of pleasant, enjoyable memories. Ones that have felt like they increase in frequency and duration as time passes. As to be expected. Time doesn’t heal all, but it does ease the aches just a bit. And healing occurring alongside the pillars of support and love will always provide the necessary space for it to flourish and flow.

Heaven’s eyes bounce to where Roman has his phone lifted, his thumb moving to unlock and navigate to the most recently used app. Seconds later, footage that’s essentially the exact same as the last time he checked shortly before they stepped into the shower together.

Cribs stationed on either side of the nursery, names spelled out on the wall above said cribs, in the stereotypical pink and blue. Similar to the bedding and overall theme of a room Heaven spent far more time decorating than what was necessary, but it’d become an outlet. Something she could throw herself into. That she could control. A gracious, necessary space of mercy and release. One that still carries with it the peaceful and comforting atmosphere that, though she can’t prove it, aids in the way her twins so easily go down for bed.

Evident in the way they both are turned on their stomachs, lips slightly parted, little bodies rising up and down in slow, steady motions.

“It’s amazing how they sleep through the night,” she murmurs.

Roman chuckles. “That’s cause they use up all their energy during the day.”

She smiles and nestles her head against his temple. “I don’t know where they get all that from, either.”

“You and me both,” he agrees. “All I know is we’re signing them up for as many sports as we can the minute they’re old enough.”

“Roman.”

Not that she necessarily disagrees as it was the same thought that she had earlier in the day, there’s an element of exaggeration that fuels his motive. Kanoa and Kalia, while far from unafraid to express discontent and dissatisfaction in the way of babbles, screams, whines, and the tossing of whatever is in the closest vicinity, really are good babies. Heaven has noticed that they just tend to become more temperamental in the usual situations that would aggravate most young children. Hunger. Sleepiness. Overstimulated.

Not that much different from the man complaining about them.

“What?” He angles his head to look at her. “Heav, they gotta get that shit out somehow. I’m not about to be 50 something chasing them around this house.”

She rolls her eyes. He can be dramatic as hell sometimes. “You sound like Jimmy.”

“About once a year, he says something actually accurate.”

Heaven flicks his shoulder and continues to massage his scalp. She also watches how he switches over to the other camera that, again, greets them the same it did the last time he checked.

Macy, in bed, Cookie cradled in her arms and Candy at the edge of the bed.

Sleeping.

A calming, assuring image that only goes so far. Hence the way she reaches for his phone, Roman only casting her a brief glance before he hands it to her. He remains quiet as she clicks around and navigates to Apple Music—one day she’ll get him to switch to Spotify—quickly searching and playing the desired tune.

As the silence that filled the room is imbued with a familiar, well known tune for her, Heaven places the phone back beside her husband who looks over at her with a scowl that reminds her of the twins when they’re cranky. All of her kids, it seems, took after their daddy when it comes to that damn scowl.

“Isn’t this the song that plays when someone dies on that hospital show you like?”

“Roman.” As much as he likes to talk about Jimmy, he isn’t that far off with some of the shit he says. They both have no filter. Just in different ways. “It’s Greys Anatomy. If you would stop falling asleep every time I try to watch it with you—”

“I’m not watching that shit, Heaven. I told you that.”

The way he shuts her down almost immediately isn’t the least bit surprising. For all of the many, many things the man she’s holding has done, will do, and will always do for her, the one thing she’s never been able to talk him into is watching one of her favorite shows with her. Any of her favorite shows, really. They’ll watch movies together, but even that’s far and few in between outside of the animated, family friendly programs and films the kids like to watch. Beyond that, it’s a no-go. Ever since they were teenagers, Roman has always found Heaven’s taste in shows too “female focused” for him. To this day, she’s still not sure what exactly that means.

She snorts. “Yeah, cause you’d rather watch that violence.”

“Damn straight.”

Heaven flicks his shoulder. If it’s got gore, action, or a weird combination of both, he’s there. For her, there are a million and one things she’d rather do than subject herself to that macabre shit.

As the music continues to play in the background, reaching one of her favorite parts, she refocuses the conversation. “And yeah, it is synonymous with character deaths, but….” Once more, she leans over and kisses his temple, murmuring a soft, “just….listen.”

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Words that manifest and penetrate, Heaven watching how he closes his eyes once more, the most subtle tick of his jaw and falter of his lips telltales of her spontaneous idea and spur of the moment plan proving to be effective.

In more ways than expected.

Heaven smooths her hands down his chest and then over his shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze. For most, it’d be a gesture that requires clarification, but not Roman.

He knows what she needs, even without her even saying a word.

All that I am

All that I ever was

Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

In a matter of seconds, he’s no longer in between her legs and her body is no longer propped up by the set of pillows set against their headboard. She’s instead curled against him, arm over his stomach, her cheek pressed into his chest. He pulls her closer, as if their bodies aren’t already molded together. As if they aren’t already one in every way that counts.

“Something did die, Roman,” she whispers. “That….that died.” That unnamed but known entity she refuses to give life to by naming and addressing. They’ve lived it. Survived it. “And this….this is where we breathe. Where we live.”

Because life is made up of more than just fleeting moments of joy and happiness. It’s frustration mixed with disappointment and tainted with occasional loss. Trauma and grief that co-exist, go hand in hand, but almost always follow up with the clearing of the sky and disappearing of the clouds.

Heaven was once told that it can’t rain forever. She didn’t understand it then.

She understands it now.

“We’re here. We made it here. That’s what matters.” After everything that was thrown and meant to work against them, to keep one half from the other half, and despite every single odd that could exist, they made it. They made it. “Somewhere beyond right and wrong,” A beat. “That’s where we found each other.”

a/n: and there we have it, folks. the long ass , too long awaited conclusion.

this is not the ending i wanted to go with. my initial thought/idea when starting to flesh out the story following the massive, positive response to rls was one much different than this. in my initial plot, macy ends up passing away, and jey is "mysteriously" found murdered.

thus, the storyline following roman and heaven trying to navigate life post macy's murder, heaven's pregnancy, as well as a bit of a "mystery" aspect where i would play around with "who killed jey" and a focus on roman and nathan as the potential suspects.

specifically, i wanted to explore the dichotomy of grief and love. exploration of how two people navigate a new norm that's juxtaposed to a past they can't seem to let go and heal from. heaven struggling to find joy in her pregnancy, and roman struggling with the guilt of it all. together, their shared regret at their actions that, to them, resulted in the loss of their daughter. the story concluding with roman and heaven meeting the little girl who received macy's heart, as they chose to donate her organs.

"we couldn't save our baby, but we had the opportunity to save someone else's. and that's what we did. an act of love. because that's what macy was to and for us. the representation and embodiment of love."

that's what the heaven sent short would have shown. but i had to be honest with myself and realize that i really do not have the time to adequately and properly write out such a layered storyline the way i'd want to. not with all the other 5011 wip's i got going on. thus, this alternative ending.

anyhoo, much appreciation and thanks to everyone who read this hot mess express of a mini series. forever grateful and thankful for you kind souls. i feel as though this ending could have been better, but you've all waited long enough for a conclusion. i just hope this one was satisfactory.

ari 💖

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #roman reigns x black!oc #jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #arisnotebook

Trending Blogs

Last Seen Blogs

🅐🅡🅘