Epilogue
THREE YEARS LATER...
The snowflakes drifted in slow spirals, delicate and weightless, like time itself had softened just for today.
I stood barefoot on the balcony wrapped in one of Lucky’s hoodies, the sleeves swallowing my hands, the fabric still holding his cologne.
My breath fogged the air in front of me, curls tucked into a thick satin-lined bonnet, my skin still warm from the peppermint bath he ran for me that morning, but nothing compared to the warmth in my chest as I watched my family below.
Lucky was in the yard, sunk to his knees in snow with our babies surrounding him like satellites pulled to their sun.
Lucci and Jaison were bundled in their matching snowsuits, squealing with laughter as he tossed tiny snowballs and let them hit him square in the chest with dramatic groans of defeat.
Jasper, wild-haired and bossy just like her mama, was trying to build a snowman with Lincoln, who wasn’t interested in anything except eating snow and crawling into Lucky’s lap whenever he could get close enough.
He kept his promise. He gave me everything he said he would.
After we had the twins, Lucci and Jaison, just two minutes apart and complete opposites from the moment they took their first breath, I swore I needed a break.
But Lucky? That man always knew how to get what he wanted with nothing but patience, kisses, and the kind of attention that made my knees forget how to hold me up.
I found out I was pregnant again the week before our vow renewal.
I had a whole plan, again, a cute little reveal ready with tiny booties and “Coming Soon” signs, but Jasper had her own agenda.
She kicked my ass from the inside out and Lucky found me slumped in the bathroom. He asked once and I didn’t deny it.
Jasper gave me run for my money during labor and Lincoln followed her right out, a full minute behind her. Nobody saw him coming. Not even the doctors. They were our unexpected grace. A blessing we didn’t plan but needed all the same.
Now here we are, married for five years.
Parents to six beautiful, wild, brilliant little humans.
Lucky Jr was five now, tall like his daddy, serious when he needed to be but all heart when it came to his siblings.
He was the one scooping Jenie up when she cried, reading bedtime stories even if he didn’t know all the words.
She was three, still attached to my hip, but more and more these days, I’d find her curled beside her daddy in the garage holding his tools like they were hers too.
I don’t know how we got here, at least not without crying about it but I remember the fear I used to carry. That my body wouldn’t bounce back. That I’d lose myself under the weight of motherhood. That loving a man like Lucky with everything I had would leave no room for me.
But none of that happened. Because Lucky never let it.
He filled the gaps. He saw me when I couldn’t see myself.
He made sure the kids knew their mama was a queen even on the days I forgot.
He rubbed shea butter into my stretch marks like they were sacred.
He cooked when I was too tired. He cleaned bottles at 3 a.m. and rocked babies with one hand while holding me with the other.
He built a life around us, not in spite of us. I sniffed and wiped my face, not because I was sad. No, not even close but because this kind of joy had a way of slipping out your eyes when your heart was too full to hold it all.
Lucky looked up at that exact moment, like he felt me thinking about him. Like he always did. He smiled, then shouted, “Aye, lover girl! You just gon’ stand up there lookin’ fine or you gon’ come make snow angels with yo’ husband?”
I laughed, loud and free, leaning on the balcony railing as I shouted back, “Don’t tempt me, Lucky Bleu! You know I still got stitches from Lincoln’s big-headed self!”
He threw his head back and laughed, the kind of laugh that made the kids laugh just because they wanted to feel whatever he was feeling. Lucci squealed and reached for him, and he scooped her up with ease, tucking her against his chest.
This was it.
This was everything.
A black man in the snow with his babies. A house full of love and loudness and food and forgiveness. A woman finally whole, finally resting, finally loved so deep her soul would never go thirsty again.
I went back inside to get dressed. Because snow angels with Lucky Bleu? That sounded like the perfect way to end this chapter.