Epoligue
Maddox Creed
Five Months Later…
I never imagined the last document Luciana and I would sign together would be divorce papers.
The conference room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner overhead. A thick folder rested in the middle of the table beside two pens that would officially bring eleven years of marriage to an end.
Funny how life worked…
We’d signed mortgage papers together, business contracts, birth certificates, school enrollment forms and now this.
I leaned back in my chair and glanced around the room. There wasn’t anything special about it. Gray walls. A long wooden table. A couple framed pictures that looked like they’d been hanging there since the building opened. It was just another office.
Yet somehow… it felt heavier than any room I’d ever walked into.
A soft knock sounded against the door before it slowly opened and Luciana stepped inside.
My eyes immediately dropped to the baby sleeping peacefully in the carrier attached to her chest.
Baby girl was two months.
Time had moved a whole lot faster than I wanted it to.
She looked tired.
Not exhausted the way she had those first few weeks after giving birth, but motherhood had always worn on her in ways she’d never admit out loud. Even so, she looked good. Healthier than she had the night she walked out of our house.
When her eyes met mine, a small smile found its way onto her face.
“Hey, you…”
I smiled back.
“Hey.”
Neither one of us moved for a second.
There wasn’t any awkwardness between us anymore.
The first few months had been rough. Learning how to co-parent after spending more than a decade as husband and wife wasn’t something either of us had prepared for, but somewhere along the way, we stopped trying to hold on to what we’d lost and started appreciating what we still had.
Our friendship...
Our respect for one another…
Our children…
That was enough…
“You look tired,” I said as she took the seat across from me.
She laughed softly while adjusting the blanket around the baby.
“This little girl thinks sleep is optional.”
I looked down at her.
“She don’t look like he missing any.”
“She isn’t.”
That earned a laugh from both of us.
The attorney walked in a few seconds later carrying another folder.
“Good morning, Mr. Creed…” His eyes shifted toward Luciana before a polite smile crossed his face. “…Mrs. Creed.”
Luciana smiled through pressed lips.
“I guess this is the last time somebody gets to call me that.”
Nobody laughed, not even her.
The attorney cleared his throat before taking his seat.
“I know we’ve already gone over everything, but I’ll review it one last time before we finalize the paperwork.”
Neither one of us objected.
He walked us through the agreement we’d spent weeks putting together. There hadn’t been much to argue about. From the very beginning, we’d both agreed that no matter what happened between us, the kids weren’t going to suffer for it.
Luciana kept the boys during the school week so their routines stayed the same, and every Wednesday after school they’d come straight to my house. We alternated weekends, split holidays evenly, and promised each other we’d never make our children choose between us.
Our youngest son would stay primarily with Luciana until he was older, but we’d already agreed his schedule would eventually match his brothers’.
As for Nylah…
That arrangement never changed.
She flew to Atlanta one weekend every month, stayed longer during school breaks, and every chance I got, I flew to spend time with her instead of expecting a little girl to always be the one traveling.
It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.
“If there are no questions,” the attorney said as he closed the folder, “I’ll give you two a few minutes before we sign.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Luciana and me alone for the first time in weeks.
She looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully against her chest and smiled as she gently rubbed the back of her tiny hand.
“She has your whole face now.”
A laugh escaped me as I looked at my daughter. “Poor little girl.”
Luciana smiled. “She’ll be alright, though.”
“Yeah, she will be.”
For a moment, we just smiled at each other. Even after everything we’d been through, there was still a level of comfort between us that neither one of us had to work for.
I leaned back in my chair.
“How’s the new place?” I asked.
“I love it.” She nodded before looking back down at the baby. “It’s smaller, but it feels… peaceful. I think that’s what I needed. The other house was just too big.”
“You close to Nevaeh?”
“About ten minutes away.”
“That’s good.”
“She’s been helping a lot with the baby and the boys whenever I need her. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done without her these last few months. I’m glad she moved up this way.”
I nodded.
“I’m glad you got somebody.”
“I am too. I mean, you’re here also, but it’s just good to have someone right in arm’s reach.”
The conversation faded after that, but the silence between us didn’t feel heavy anymore. A year ago, neither one of us would’ve believed we’d be sitting across from each other going over divorce papers.
A few minutes later, the attorney came back into the room.
Neither one of us hesitated.
We’d cried all the tears there were to cry months ago. We’d talked until there wasn’t anything left to say. By the time those papers were placed in front of us, neither one of us was looking for another reason to stay.
Some stories weren’t meant to last forever.
That didn’t make them any less beautiful.
I signed my name first before sliding the papers across the table.
Luciana looked at my signature for a second, then quietly signed beneath it.
Just like that… Eleven years became a memory.
The attorney congratulated us on reaching an agreement before gathering the paperwork and stepping out to make copies. It was strange hearing somebody congratulate us on the end of a marriage, but I understood what he meant.
We’d done it without lawyers fighting for us.
Without courtrooms.
Without making our children choose sides.
We’d ended our marriage the same way we’d tried to live it—with respect.
The last five months hadn’t been easy, but somewhere along the way, life found a new rhythm.
The streets no longer had my attention, and truthfully, they hadn’t for a while. Apollo built an empire and me and my brothers expanded it.
Now it was somebody else’s turn to chase money.
Mine was already made…
These days, my schedule revolved around school pickups, football practice, dance recitals, bedtime FaceTimes with Nylah, and trying to convince a five-month-old little girl that sleeping through the night wasn’t optional.
This was the life that I’d preferred nowadays.
Luciana had found her own rhythm too. She had her girl that nobody even knew she was still fucking with nearby.
So, she had someone to chill with since she had damn near completely cut Solae and Romy off.
Her and Romy talked every blue moon, but it just wasn’t the same.
However, she was still close to mama, and I guess, that was enough.
The boys adjusted better than either of us expected, and our daughter had already figured out how to wrap both her brothers and her sister around her tiny little finger.
Some things never change, though.
She still refused to date, and I wasn’t surprised. Healing took time.
Hell, neither one of us had any business trying to love somebody else when we were still learning how to live this version of our lives.
Gia and Pryce were doing better than ever. Pryce eventually did what everybody already knew he was going to do.
He proposed, and Gia said yes.
A few months later, they found out they were expecting a baby.
Pryce and I had finally sat down and had the conversation we’d both been avoiding.
Just two men putting pride to the side and talking honestly about the little girl we both loved.
There wasn’t any tension between us after that.
Just mutual respect. At the end of the day, we both wanted the same thing.
We wanted Nylah to know she’d never have to question whether she was loved.
I couldn’t have been happier for them.
As for me… People always ask if I regret what happened, and the answer surprises them every time.
I regret the pain. I regret the years I lost with my daughter. I regret every lie that brought us here, but I don’t regret loving Luciana.
She gave me eleven years I’ll never forget.
She gave me my sons.
She gave me a daughter who’ll grow up knowing she was loved from the moment she took her first breath.
Most importantly…
She taught me that sometimes loving somebody means accepting that you’ve reached the end of your chapter together.
Not every love story is supposed to last forever. Some are meant to change you. Ours changed both of us, and despite how it ended…
If I had the chance to do it all over again…
…I’d still choose her.
THE END!!!