Epilogue
MWEN RENMWN OU
SABAN
“Bon Fet.”
Everyone shouts and then sings a raucous rendition of the birthday song of my childhood that I still don’t remember ever being song. The grounds of Angel’s not so secret home is filled with nearly every el Diablo rider and all of our family and friends.
“Do you want me to carry you.” Hadrián bends low to ask.
“No, I don’t need you to carry me, babe. Just help me get to my chair.” Still, he all but carries me over to the seat of honor that’s doubling as a mom to be throne.
I try not to wince at the constant throb in my lower back as I wait to be slashed and crowned by Easy and Lourdes in the neutral color of green since the gender doesn’t matter to us.
One by one, folks come to present their gifts.
Amadou and his sweet family make my eyes tear. Hadrián helped them expand their business in appreciation for being such good friends to me.
“Bèl pitit fi mwen.” My mom whispers with tears in her eyes. Hugging me close. She whispers a prayer over me.
“Manman.” I whisper, cupping her beautiful face. “You and Papa vowed we would never miss another special day when we were reunited in New Orleans, and you kept your promise.” Love shines so bright in her face, and dare I say, with joy.
My parents never forgave themselves for losing me in the jungle of Colombia, but they were determined not to let the life of the child they thought they lost be in vain.
They explained how the rebels rescued them and gave them shelter until they were strong enough to travel.
They named their restaurant SABINE in honor of me.
The biggest surprise was my younger siblings finding out about me. My parents never divulged the tragic story of what they believed happened to me, so my brother, Pierre, and sisters, Celeste and Nadège, were more than a little surprised to find out they had a sister.
They come next with their gifts, the girls warm and delightful, with Pierre holding back with his usual reserve. I swear this boy has seen the Anastasia movie one too many times. I wouldn’t be surprised if he smuggled a glass out to have my DNA tested.
After everyone showing their love, with Angel and Snake eyeing Oz with a healthy dose of skepticism as he gifts who he terms as his godchild with a villa in Western Cape.
“Just in case,” he winks at me, happy to stir the pot anytime he comes to visit. Which sends Ezkiel-Jane into a fit of giggles.
Just as Crimson and Clover present together with their ever-present shadows at their backs, a slicing pain hits my lower back, making me gasp.
My water chooses that moment to break as well. Hadrián doesn’t check with me, only picks me up with the calm determination of a man on a mission and walks out of the gathering with me in his arms.
18 hours later…
“Te amo.” I whisper into the strong arms circling me.
Resting against my husband, I look at our beautiful baby.
A perfect mix of his father and me. Thick, curly locks and a strong, sturdy body that was too big for me to push out, so we had to get a C-section.
My emotions are all over the place. Our son, Maximilliano Pierre Cabrera, was named after both his grandfathers, with Hadrián promising me, “We’ll just call him Maxim for short.
” When I told him he was going to have our baby, getting his ass kicked with that ostentatious name.
Casting my gaze in his direction, I see a shimmer of tears in his eyes. Bringing his hand up to my lips, I press a kiss to his hand.
Brushing my locs back, he kisses me. Thank you for this precious gift, peuena amenaza.”
“We did good, La Serpiente.” Even through the tears, I can’t stop beaming.
“Mwen renmen ou,” he whispers.