EZRA
“N A H, f u c k t h a t,” I muttered, throwing back the shot Mekai had just lined up in front of me. “I was respectful. I ain’t raise my voice. I ain’t say nothin’ slick. And he still looked at me like I’m some stray dog sniffin’ around his precious daughter.”
Mekai winced. “Damn.” We were at The Copper Room, the new lounge where he was the head bartender. He leaned his forearms on the bar. “So what happened? Yaya ain’t say nothin’?”
“I didn’t stick around to find out,” I grumbled. “Knowin' her though, she just sat there and let 'em talk shit.”
He blinked. “Nah. She be movin’ like that?”
“Dead ass. So, I just dipped before I said some shit I’d regret.”
Mekai exhaled, reaching for his glass. “You good now?”
I stared at the Henny in my cup. “Nah, not really. I’m tired of feelin’ like I’m not enough unless I’m on a stage or just doin’ my own thing. Like I ain’t provin’ it every fuckin’ day that I love that woman and my son.”
My phone vibrated on the counter. I peeped it was Yaya calling me on FaceTime. I stared at it for a second then flipped my phone over and took another shot.
Mekai watched me carefully. “You sure about that?”
My phone buzzed again and this time a text came through.
Just wanted to check on you. I love you.
I swallowed hard but didn’t respond her. Mekai didn’t press either. He just poured another shot for me before going to take care of other people surrounding the bar. I drank in silence after that. Music pulsing low, conversations happening in the background. I wasn’t really there, though. I was still in that living room. Still replaying the way Yaya's Pops looked through me like I wasn’t shit. Like I wasn’t the one laying my career across state lines just to be close to her.
Around midnight, I finally stood up. “I’m out.”
“You good to drive?”
I smirked. “Nigga, I’m always good.”
“Aight then.” He dapped me up and didn’t say much else. We’d been boys long enough to know when words couldn’t fix what time and silence had to smooth out.
When I got back to Yaya’s apartment, it was dark and quiet. The lock clicked softly behind me as I kicked off my sneakers. Walking into the bedroom, I peeled off my hoodie and jeans. Yaya was turned away from me, but I could see the faint rise and fall of her breathing. Her locs spilled over her shoulder, the glow from the streetlight outside casting shadows across her pillow.
I climbed into bed behind her without a word and wrapped one arm around her belly. She didn’t flinch. She just sighed deeply like her body already knew I needed her. Like maybe, even in her hurt, she still needed me too. No words. No apologies. Just love, quiet and heavy between us.
T h e n e x t m o r n i n g, I woke to the smell of food. My head throbbed a little from all the liquor and frustration still lodged behind my eyes. The bed was empty beside me so I followed the smell to the kitchen. Yaya stood in front of the stove, barefoot in a long tee, flipping pancakes and humming low under her breath. I could smell the shea butter soaked into her skin and the sage burning in the living room. She turned when she heard me and gave me a small smile.
“You hungry?”
I nodded, stepping forward slowly. “Yeah.” We ate at the table with no music or TV. Just the clink of forks and the quiet between us until I broke it. “I’m sorry for last night.”
She looked up. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You left to protect your peace. I respect that.”
I reached for her hand across the table. “I just… I don’t know how to be what they want. But I’m tryna be what you need.”
“You are,” she said softly. “But I won’t lie. It’s hard. Them being like that to you hurts me too.”
I nodded, throat tight. “I know.”
“I told them if they can’t get with the program to just leave me alone.”
I was shocked, eyebrow lifted. “For real?” Just then, my phone buzzed on the counter. It was Nina. “Hold up,” I told her before answering the call on speaker.
“Ezra, everything good? Ty said you’re supposed to be back tonight. They added a spot on ArtBeat Live tomorrow, and the tour itinerary’s shifting.”
I looked over at Yaya. Her disappointment. Her belly. I knew what I needed to do and I made the choice right then. “I’m not comin’ back,” I said.
“Wait, what?”
“Not right now. I’m stayin' in East Hollis for a minute,” I said. “My girl’s due soon. I’m not leavin’ her again. My family comes first, Nina. Y’all gotta figure some shit out on the backend to make this work.”
“Ezra—” she started.
“I’m serious. I want it all. The poetry. The shows. The money. But not at the cost of my family.”
She was quiet for a few minutes while I started at Yaya and watched her become emotional. Then finally, Nina spoke. “Okay. Yeah, sure. We, uh… we’ll figure it out.”
“Aight bet.” I ended the call and Yaya’s tears finally fell, crying with both hands over her mouth. I walked to her slowly and pulled her into me. She collapsed into my chest, her tears soaking my skin.
“You really did that,” she whispered.
I nodded. “I meant what I said. You my peace. My poem. My reason. I fuckin’ love you, Yaya.”
She leaned up and kissed me slowly then hungrily. I scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. We didn’t speak much once we got there. Our hands found each other’s skin like we’d been waiting years to get back home.
I laid her down carefully, hands trailing every inch of her body. Yaya lay beneath me, her skin warm, her eyes wide and wet, her breath shaky like her heart was trying to speak before her mouth could. I kissed her slowly as her hand moved down my back, pulling me flush against her.
“Ezra, I need you,” she murmured. “Right here. Right now. All of you.”
That was all I needed. I kissed her again, longer this time, my tongue slipping past her lips as she sighed into my mouth. My hands traced her curves, my fingers grazing the swell of her breasts, and the softness of her belly. I took my time kissing every inch of her skin, worshipping the new stretch marks on her body.
“So damn beautiful,” I whispered, my voice breaking a little.
Her hands slid down my chest, trembling slightly. “Lately, I haven’t felt like it.”
I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Then let a nigga remind you.” I kissed down her stomach until her breath caught and her hips lifted into me. I dragged my tongue gently between her thighs, making her gasp, her legs trembling around my shoulders.
“Oh, my God…” she moaned, her voice barely there. Her fingers tangled in my locs, her body arching as I licked her clit slowly and deeply until her thighs shook and she came against my mouth, crying out my name in a whisper that almost broke me.
When I slid back up, she was still trembling, eyes glassy. “You good?” I asked, brushing a loc behind her ear.
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
“Same, baby.”
Turning her on her side, I lined myself up and slid inside her wetness. I swear, it felt like my whole soul was being pulled back into place. We both groaned and she held onto me like she needed to anchor herself. Taking my time, I delivered long, deep strokes as I kissed her neck.
“I love you,” I said against her lips. “Even when I fuck up. It’s always you, Yaya.”
Tears slid down her cheeks as she gripped the sheets and clenched her muscles around me, releasing. “I believe you,” she whispered. “I feel you.”
We kept moving, slow and raw, until her voice hitched and her body quivered. “I gotchu,” I whispered. “You hear me? I gotchu.”
She nodded, and I came right after, burying my face in her neck, groaning her name as our bodies locked tight, our hearts pounding together. When it was over, I didn’t move.
I stayed inside her, my arms around her, my lips brushing her shoulder, her collarbone, and her lips again and again because I needed her to know. She was mine and I was hers. This shit was forever. An unspoken vow sealed in sweat, tears, and love that refused to die.
A f e w h o u r s later, Yaya was still asleep when I slipped out of bed. Her body was curled toward where I’d been lying with one arm draped protectively over her belly. I smiled at the way her lips were parted just slightly as she breathed in that soft, steady rhythm I’d grown addicted to. For a minute, I just stood there, watching her, chest full of everything I couldn’t always say.
I walked around the bed quietly, grabbed her phone off the nightstand. I didn’t want to go through her shit. I respected her privacy but I wasn’t doing this for secrets. I was doing this for us. It took me a second to find what I needed; a quick copy, pin drop on my phone, and that was it. I left her a note on the counter.
Went to make somethin' right. I’ll be back.
I love you.
Then I showered fast, got dressed in black slacks, and a white open-collar shirt, and tucked my chains underneath. I threw on a fitted jacket and locked the front door behind me. Climbing into the Bentley I rented while in East Hollis, I pulled into traffic and my mind drifted to the way her Pops looked at me the other night.
How it hit deeper than I thought it would. How even though I told myself I didn’t give a fuck but I did. I cared because Yaya cared. Because we were bringing a child into the world and I didn’t want to build that world on shaky foundations. Because I wanted to be part of her life, not just the parts she could shield me from.
Thirty minutes later, I was back at the mansion where everything changed. Yaya’s parents' spot looked like it belonged on the cover of Black Excellence magazine. I took a breath and made my way towards the door then rang the bell. A few moments later, her mom's opened the door.
She was dressed in a cream pantsuit, pearls, and a scowl. “Ezra,” she said, voice flat. “May I help you?”
“Morning, ma’am,” I said, trying to keep my tone respectful. “Can we, uh… can we talk?”
She blinked. “Where is Yavanni? Is she alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, she’s good,” I said. “I just came to talk.”
She looked me over, then reluctantly stepped aside. “Come in.”
I followed her inside, my shoes sinking into the thick carpet as the familiar scent of boujie filled my nostrils. “Leonard,” she called softly, voice echoing through the foyer. “You need to come down here.”
Yaya’s Pops came down the staircase slowly dressed in pressed slacks, a fitted sweater, and a tight jaw. When he saw me, his steps slowed and I stood up straighter. My palms were sweating like a bitch but I was already in it. “I came to talk to you both,” I said. “About Yaya, the baby and… us.”
Her Pops crossed his arms. “Go on.”
I looked between them. Then square at him. “I know we ain’t get off on the right foot and I know I ain’t what you expected for ya daughter. I’m not a doctor. I’m not a Ivy League ni… man. You know, I ain’t come from all this,” I said, gesturing subtly around the space. “But I love ya daughter. Like for real. I’d do anything for her and whatever it takes to be a father to my son. Even if that means shiftin’ around my whole damn career.”
His eyes stayed steady on mine, unreadable.
“I came here 'cause I wanna ask for ya blessin’,” I continued, glancing back and forth at the both of them before focusing my attention on him. “Not just to be in her life but to marry her. To build wit’ her. For real. I want my son to grow up seein’ what love looks like, not just hearin’ 'bout it.”
Yaya’s mom’s eyes widened slightly while her father’s brow furrowed. He cleared his throat and chuckled. And then he said, flatly, “You think a speech makes up for the months you left her alone?”
That hit hard but I didn’t react like he figured I would. I stepped closer, voice lower. “I know I fu... messed up. I never claimed to be perfect. But I didn’t leave Yavanni. I was tryna build a future and I made mistakes tryna balance both but I never walked away from her.”
“You missed some important appointments. You missed time, Ezra,” her mother noted.
“I showed up when it counted!” I snapped, my voice rising before I could stop it. “While her body’s changin' and she don’t recognize herself in the mirror, I’m the one kissin’ every stretch mark like it’s sacred.”
I watched Yaya’s Pops jaw tense and her mother’s snobby facial expression change. It was softer now. Curious. I took a breath, chest heaving. “I’m ready to spend the rest of my life lovin’ ya daughter better than I ever have.”
Her Pops turned, walking toward the window, looking out in silence. I stood there, heart racing, chest tight. “I see her in you,” her mother finally said. “The way you talk. The fire. The nerves. The love. I guess you are trying.”
I looked at her, eye steady. “I am.”
Her Pops turned back around. “She’s always been strong,” he said. “She was born with her mother’s fire. My structure. My stubbornness.” He stepped closer. “If you’re going to marry her, Ezra, you better be ready to withstand that fire. Not just love it. Not just admire it. You need to hold it when she can’t and know when to step back when she can.”
I nodded slowly. “I already do.”
He stared at me for a beat longer and then exhaled a deep breath. When he extended his hand, it threw me for a second but then, I took it. Firmly. “I’ll give you my blessing,” he said. “But I’m watching. And if you ever disappear again, even emotionally… I’ll be at your door before you can finish your next poem.”
I cracked a breathless laugh. “Fair.”
His grip tightened. “Don’t just marry her. Deserve her.”
“I plan to,” I said.
Her mother smiled now, warm and a little amused. “Guess we should start looking at wedding venues.”
W h e n I g o t back to Yaya’s, she was in the kitchen, barefoot, holding a mug of tea. She turned when the door opened, eyes instantly scanning me.
“Hey. Where’d you go?” she asked. I walked straight to her, pulled her into my arms, and kissed her. Tongued her down. She melted into me as she set the mug down. “What did you do?” she asked against my lips.
“Went to talk to ya parents.”
Her mouth fell open. “You didn’t…”
“I did,” I whispered. “And I got ya Pops blessin’.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I wanna marry you, Yavanni. Not just 'cause we got a baby on the way but because I love you. 'Cause I’mma better nigga wit’ you. Because this? Us? It’s forever.”
She nodded, tears falling as I lifted her onto the counter. Snatching her robe open, I kissed every part of her. And in every breath, every moan and every I love you whispered against skin, we wrote the first line of our forever.