Epilogue
Six months later…
I think Willy Wonka was on to something when he advised those folks at the chocolate factory to press forward instead of looking back, because doing so has been turning me every which way but loose. Whoever said that men don't cry ain't ever met a man whose parents slutted him out before the age of legal consent. Being in therapy with Letitia has had me looking like Christina after Mommie Dearest beat her ass over the wire hanger that she had zero control over being in her closet. The session from two weeks ago had me calling Onesti with dates for her to submit for time off. I left Letitia's office looking like Will Smith at the start of his allergic reaction in Hitch . Grief and trauma had my ass running around the ring to avoid subjecting myself to a TKO.
"Are you sleeping, Asaiah?"
Opening my eyes, I quickly secure my arm around Onesti when the unsteady contraption we're in swings side to side. I stare into eyes that hold a gleam that improves my disposition the longer I get lost in our intense yet silent conversation. The passion shining through causes my dick to jump, and a smirk upturns Onesti's lips. As the sunlight hits Onesti's beautiful face, I come to a foregone conclusion that makes my heart beat erratically. I love everything about her: her patience, commitment to my recovery, and nurturing. I love everything.
"What's up, sweet baby?" I ask after several minutes.
"Being here with you as the air blows lightly across my face feels like nirvana. Thank you for this."
Onesti and I are vacationing at a resort in Aruba, and seeing the merriment in her eyes makes the pricey expense priceless. Not wanting to book a resort in Mexico, I asked Normani for some suggestions due to her extensive travel with her husband. I'm gonna have to find a way to thank Normani for this suggestion because this resort is making me want to return annually or whenever Onesti and I need a break from life to reset. Between the four freshwater pools, ten restaurants, and the mile-long beach, I can co-sign Onesti's enjoyment of this place.
"Thank you for your patience with me, sweet baby. I know it hasn't always been easy, but I love you for not throwing me to the wolves."
Kissing her forehead with my arms around her body, I savor the moment with the woman I didn't see coming, yet I'm eternally grateful that she's mine.
"I'll believe your sincerity if you change your mind about attending the party tonight." The mischievous beam in Onesti's eyes has me shaking my head, and a low chuckle slips from my lips.
"The only way you and I will be playing in any type of soapy substance is if it's a private party."
"Private party for two hundred, Alex."
"Say less, sweet baby."
* * *
After laying Onesti on the bed, I lightly stroke her cheekbone and lips, taking my thumb and rubbing it over the bridge of her nose, tweaking it before leaning down and sucking Onesti's lips into my mouth. The action causes her to moan. Gazing into her eyes, I undress her, and her nipples harden into pebbles once I unclip the red bra she's wearing. Taking one of her breasts into my hand, I pull it to meet my mouth and suck it like it contains my next meal.
Pushing me backward, she starts removing my clothing. She pulls my underwear off with her teeth before taking my dick into her mouth, moaning lightly. Licking all around my shaft with her tongue, she takes my balls in her mouth, sucking gently. The action causes me to shudder.
"Fuck! We got all night, sweet baby. Come here and sit on my face."
Straddling my face, Onesti holds onto the headboard as I lick her front to back, sucking her clit into my mouth.
"Oooh, baby, just like that," she purrs.
I feast on Onesti's clit, enjoying the juices oozing out of her. "Damn, you taste good."
"I need you inside of me," she pants, trying to hold off her orgasm while attempting to move off my face, but I suck her pearl harder, causing her to explode. "Shiiitttt!" Onesti screams.
"Mm," I groan, licking my lips, lifting her up and placing her on my throbbing dick.
Onesti grimaces while adjusting to the feeling of me slowly moving inside of her. My tongue licking and sucking inside of her minutes before made her walls slick. A few minutes into stroking, I pick up my pace, and Onesti meets me stroke for stroke. As I stroke up, Onesti thrusts down, creating a synced rhythm. Taking hold of my hands, Onesti clasps them together, riding me harder.
"Shit!" I cry, feeling Onesti's walls tighten around my dick, and the tingling in my toes runs up my legs like a marathon runner.
The way Onesti's gushy honeypot is snapping and gripping my dick like new money has me giving her a bear hug when my legs shake uncontrollably.
"Yesss!" Onesti cries when our releases happen simultaneously.
Maybe today is the day to seal the deal and secure my future.
How can you propose without a ring?
The blaring reality of my predicament echoes in my mind on the heels of what feels right at this moment.
Ring or no ring, securing my future will be the perfect way to conclude this trip.
* * *
I feel like I'm in a tale of two scenarios as my brain flows in and out of what's currently happening. Mama and Pop Layton, along with the senior Jeffries, Onesti, and I, are having dinner, making it slightly rude for me to be so unfocused. Yet, I'm sitting here feeling like an impostor intermingling with the couple who have no blood connection to me with Onesti's parents. Oddly, I have been sitting here daydreaming about an impossible possibility where Mom and Dad are teasing me about the goofy grin I was wearing upon entering the restaurant while holding Onesti's hand.
What's worse is the vivid image of Mom wearing an elegant V-neck army green jumpsuit with cape sleeves. A silver belt surrounds her waist and complements her outfit and the open-toe heels on her dainty feet. Dad is wearing a tan two-piece linen getup that fits him like it was custom-made to fit his body. A pair of tan loafers are on his feet, and I smile at how dapper he looks. My heart rate and pulse begin to elevate, spots dance in front of my eyes, and my breaths start to shorten when my mind transitions to Mom and Dad lying lifeless in two borrowed caskets. Before a gasp can escape my mouth, I feel a warm hand lovingly rubbing my hand.
Onesti.
My eyes blink rapidly, coming out of the fog I unconsciously let myself fall into, and I look over to see the vivid yet assessing gaze of the love of my life. Pasting a weak smile on my lips, I lift her hand to my mouth and gently kiss it. My lips linger momentarily, and my eyes flutter to a close in appreciation of God's provision in my life.
God, thank you for knowing what I needed even when I wasn't conscious of it.
"So, will this be a short or long engagement?" Mrs. Lachelle asks when I open my eyes after my brief offer of thanks to the Most High.
"Whenever she's ready," I exclaim with intense pleasure when the memory of my proposing to Onesti replaces my lingering melancholy.
Follow your heart and trust that everything else will work itself out. You got this.
Fifteen minutes later, I carry a tray back to the bedroom. An omelet with bacon, spinach, mushrooms, and cheese, in addition to sliced pineapples, strawberries, toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
"Rise and shine, my sleeping beauty," I declare, leaning down to kiss her lips after placing the tray at the end of the bed.
"Aw, Asaiah. Thank you! You didn't have to do this," Onesti utters, noting the tray of food.
"My pleasure, sweet baby," I reply, positioning the tray in front of her, and my heart rate increases when her eyes bounce from the note card to me.
"I-i-is—you want to marry me?"
"More than my next breath. God saw me struggling and sent the sweetest, most patient person I could have ever asked for. You make me feel seen and appreciated while giving me a reason to push through my hardest days. My greatest reward after a devastating life is spending what's left of it with you. Will you marry me, Onesti?"
"Great answer, son," Pop Layton co-signs, causing me to return to the conversation.
The response wasn't an answer or something I said without merit. I'm moving on Onesti's time because had it been up to me, I would have married her before we left Aruba. Upon receiving Onesti's yes, my goofy yet happy ass started dancing like Will Smith and Tatiana Ali. After a minute or so, Onesti started recording me, stating it could be useful sometime in the future because I had two left feet, which had me looking foolish. Yet, I was too caught up in my excitement to care one way or another… I was about to lock down my sweet baby.
* * *
Pumping gas after leaving the restaurant, I bob to the Tye Tribbett song flowing from the speakers through the crack in Onesti's passenger window.
"Oh shoot. Look, bae. Look," Onesti whisper-yells while pointing, causing me to turn in the direction she's aiming.
Seeing Onesti's lame ex and two women has me quickly jiggling the pump handle and putting it back in its holder. Twisting my cap in place faster than my mom after one of her binges, I speed walk to the driver's side. Starting the vehicle, I lower all the windows and cross my eyes with my ears on alert. Luckily, no one is waiting for the pump I'm at because I need all this tea.
"Who are those women with the douchebag?" I ask.
"The woman he married while dating me and Montana, whose birth name fits along the lines of yours and Roy's gender," Onesti informs me, and my eyes dart toward her with my mouth gaping.
"No shit? Your boy gets down li?—"
"Why the hell is she coming to my job talking about you and her having a situationship that I need to respect, Roy?" non-Montana asks, pointing her finger in the idiot's face.
"I-I bae, I-I-don't k-know," douchebag stutters.
"A stuttering nigga is a lying one, sweetheart. Listen, I don't want to do anything but keep this man in the rotation because he services me better than the rest of my roster," Montana interjects with a roll of her neck.
"Services you? What the fuck is she talking about, Roy? I know you ain't eating random pussy," non-Montana snaps.
"Does she have equipment like you, sweet baby?" I ask without taking my eyes off the commotion.
"Mhm, although she didn't initially, which makes me think I dodged a bullet," Onesti confirms.
"You better worry about the fact that your husband enjoys being pegged, honey," Montana adds before all hell breaks loose.
Non-Montana starts swinging her purse, hitting the douchebag like the object is a dumbbell. Any and everywhere she can land a hit, non-Montana does so with tears falling heavily. Meanwhile, Montana struts away calmly like she hasn't just blown up a marriage.
"See, that could have been you. Aren't you glad you were lucky enough to have me save you from a life of secrets and pegging? I saw the hopeful look of a second chance in buddy's eyes at the coffee shop that day." Smirking, I roll up the windows, start the vehicle, and pull out of the gas station, heading home.
"Asaiah, please. The only thing being pegged in our house will be the screws in the crib you'll be putting together in six months or so."
The wheel jerks, and I damn near jump the curb when Onesti's words materialize in my brain. My eyes land on Onesti and become saucers upon seeing Onesti holding a positive pregnancy test.
"Oh shit! You're having my baby?" My words are rhetorical from the evidence in Onesti's hands. Yet, the beaming and twinkling gaze in her eyes confirms what her mouth speaks a second later.
"I am."
Time stands still, and fireworks explode in my chest, because I didn't expect anything despite Onesti's increased juices in Aruba. Knowing that God is honoring me with a two-fold blessing, that is, Onesti and our child, has brought blinding tears cascading down my face.
"Wow. Thank you for loving me more than I expected, more than I deserve, more than I ever thought possible. Most of all, thank you for coming into my life. I love you, sweet baby."
"I'll only believe you're being honest if you hurry home so we can consummate our blessing and our future," Onesti says in a sultry voice, and my dick does the percolator in my pants, accepting her challenge.
"Say less, sweet baby."
The End!