Chapter 2
TWO
Back at the house, the world got quiet. The kind of quiet I liked.
The kind where her laugh still lingered in the air and the scent of her perfume was woven into my clothes from when she leaned into me during the drive home.
I watched her kick her heels off at the door, her silk press falling over one shoulder, that dress still hugging every curve.
Her smile was soft now, tired but happy.
That smile let me know she finally felt what I’d been saying, what I’d been showing since she birthed our baby girl.
“You want some tea or somethin’, lover boy?” she asked, walking toward the kitchen like it wasn’t damn near midnight.
I caught her hand. “Nah, come here.”
She looked up at me, head tilted.
“I just want you,” I said, voice low. “Whole night was perfect, but right now? I just want my wife next to me.”
She folded into me easily, like her body was waiting on the cue. We stood there in the dim light of the hallway, arms locked, her head against my chest. I kissed the top of her head and let my lips rest there, breathing her in.
“This house feels different with you in it again,” I mumbled. “You been here, I know that but I mean really here. Tonight felt like you came back to me.”
Her fingers tightened at the back of my shirt, and she nodded slowly against my chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I been tryna hold it all together and?—”
I lifted her chin before she could finish. “You don’t gotta explain shit. You just had our daughter three months ago. You pushin’ through postpartum, nursin’ a whole baby, raisin’ Lucky Jr. and still findin’ time to love me in between. You don’t owe nobody strength. Least of all me.”
Her eyes got glassy again, but I kissed her before she could cry.
“Come on,” I said, lacing our fingers. “Let’s get you out this dress.”
I didn’t mean it in a way that was about sex. I meant it like, let me take care of you. Let me draw you a bath and sit with you while you soak. Let me oil your body and comb your hair. Let me be your peace the way you been mine.
In our room, I undressed her slowly.
She stood in front of me in just her underwear, stretch marks on her hips like golden brushstrokes under the low light. I kissed each one.
“Still the most beautiful woman I ever seen,” I told her, and I meant that with my whole soul.
She slipped into the robe I laid out on the bed, and I went to run her bath. Lavender oil. Rose petals. Eucalyptus steam. I brought the speaker in, played that playlist she made back when we first started talking, and when she stepped into the water, I sat behind her on the edge of the tub.
She leaned back against my legs, eyes closed, breath slow. “You think they’ll remember nights like this?” she asked after a while.
“Who?”
“Our kids.”
I nodded, brushing my hand through her hair. “They gon’ remember that love lived here.”
She hummed. “That’s all I want.”
“You givin’ it to ‘em, baby,” I said. “You give it to me, too.”
She was still curled into me when we drifted off, one leg thrown over mine, her palm pressed against my chest like she needed to feel the rhythm of my heart to sleep.
I stayed awake a little longer, just watching her breathe.
Watching her face soften with rest, the tension gone from her shoulders now that the weight she’d been carrying was finally on my back too.
We were a team again. We were us again.
The next morning, I stirred to the faint sound of a cartoon theme song echoing from downstairs. It wasn’t loud, but it was just enough to pull me out of that sweet sleep.
I reached over and her side of the bed was empty.
The robe she wore last night was tossed across the bench at the foot of the bed, and I swear, the scent of cocoa butter and our daughter’s baby lotion still lingered in the sheets. I stretched, pulled on a pair of sweats, and padded down the hallway barefoot.
The second I hit the stairs, I heard her laugh.
I hit the bottom step and turned the corner into the living room, and there they were. My whole heart in motion.
Jream was sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the couch, in a hoodie and some shorts, her silk press pulled into a loose ponytail.
Lucky Jr. was on her lap, holding a toy truck, babbling about something only a two-year-old could explain.
Jenie was in the little rocker next to them, bundled in a pink blanket, eyes wide and alert like she was already taking in the world.
And there, standing behind her, was her mom.
She leaned down and kissed the top of Jream’s head the same way I did the night before, soft, proud and full of a love that didn’t need words.
“You a good mama, baby,” I heard her whisper. “And Lucky’s a good man. Y’all doin’ just fine.”
Jream just smiled, blinked a few times like she was trying not to cry, and nodded.
I stood in the doorway for a minute, unnoticed, chest tight in the best way.
“Look who’s up,” her mom said, spotting me first.
Jream turned, eyes locking on mine.
“Morning, Mr. Bleu,” she said, lips curling slow like I was a fresh cup of coffee she’d been waiting on.
“Morning, Mrs. Bleu,” I grinned, walking toward her. “This what y’all doin’ without me? Havin’ a whole family moment without the man of the house?”
She laughed and leaned up to kiss my chin.
“You were sleepin’ good. I didn’t wanna wake you.”
I scooped up Lucky Jr. with one arm and bent to kiss Jenie’s forehead. Then I reached out and tugged Jream up by the hand.
“Well I’m up now. Let’s make breakfast. I’m feelin’ like pancakes.”
“With the edges?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
I smirked. “Always with the edges.”
By the time noon hit, we was in full motion.
Jream had slipped on this soft cream turtleneck dress with her thigh-high boots and gold hoops.
Her hair was pressed silky and flowing down her back, looking like every Black boy’s dream from the lunch table in high school, the type of beauty you don’t grow out of wanting.
I could tell she put effort into how she looked today, even with a newborn on her hip and a toddler tryna push every button in the house.
I was glad she did it for her though. That glow? That wasn’t for me. That was her reminding herself who the fuck she was and I was just lucky to be the man who got to carry the bags while she shopped.
We pulled up to the outdoor plaza with the sun sliding low behind the clouds, a golden haze kissing the tops of the buildings.
I had Lucky Jr. in one hand, holding tight to his little mittened fingers, and the stroller in the other with Jenie knocked out in her pink fuzzy hat and matching blanket.
Jream kept reaching over to fix the angle of the sun visor like her baby wasn’t already sleep.
She had a list, and it was long as hell. Gifts for her dad, her best friend Monee, our nieces, nephews, teachers at Jr’s daycare even the mailman. Me? I was just lookin’ forward to sneaking off later and picking out something special just for her.
“You sure you good walkin’ this whole plaza?” I asked, nudging her with my elbow as we passed the jewelry store.
“You tryna call me lazy, Mr. Bleu?” she asked, smirking.
“Nah, I'm tryna call you loved and carried if you want it.”
She leaned into me, her hand brushing my chest. “Let’s knock this list out first. You carry me later.”
I was already plannin’ on it.
We hit a few stores, grabbed matching pajamas for the kids, found the cologne her daddy liked, and I even snuck off and doubled back to grab that necklace she stared at for a little too long in the window.
We stopped for hot cocoa at a lil pop-up cart and split a cinnamon sugar pretzel while Jr. chased after a remote-control car a vendor was demoing on the sidewalk.
Every now and then, I’d catch her lookin’ at me like she couldn’t believe this was her life.
I kissed her temple while we waited in line at the register and whispered, “Thank you for lettin’ me be your forever.”
She looked up at me, smile stretching slowly across her face with her fingers sliding into mine. “Always, lover boy.”