Epilogue
(Six Months Later)
The grocery store was crowded.
Not packed but crowded enough that I regretted stopping on a Saturday afternoon.
I stood in front of the produce section staring at two bags of grapes like the decision actually mattered. Green… red… green… red. At this point, I wasn't even sure I wanted grapes anymore. Maybe I wanted strawberries. Maybe I wanted both. Maybe I wanted to go home.
“Still overthinking everything, huh?”
I froze, then turned. “Malik?”
His face split into a grin. “Hey, girl, hey.”
I laughed. “Oh, wow.”
“It has been a minute.”
“It really has.”
He stepped forward and pulled me into a quick hug before stepping back. For a second, it felt strange seeing him. It wasn’t bad. He truly was a sweet man. It was just strange, like running into a chapter of my life that belonged to somebody else, even though it hadn’t even been a year.
Malik looked good, all relaxed and happy. I was glad. After everything, I genuinely wanted him to be happy.
His smile widened. “What happened to you?”
I laughed awkwardly. Lord. Where exactly was I supposed to start?
The last time Malik had really been around, I had convinced myself I could move on from Targen.
Then Targen showed back up and there had been Russians and a wedding and a war—the main villain of that war was still missing, but I’ll leave that for my psychotic brother-in-law to explain—and finally, something like peace.
Yeah. It had been a lot.
“A whole lot happened,” I admitted.
He looked at me and chuckled. “I can tell.”
“I don't even know how to explain it.”
Malik folded his arms. “Try.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, because there wasn't a short version.
“Well...”
Before I could come up with an answer, a familiar voice sounded behind me.
“Milaya.”
Oh, shit. I closed my eyes. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. A second later, a warm hand settled against my lower back.
“I’m guessing this explains some things,” Malik teased.
I laughed. Targen ignored him completely. He stepped up beside me and pressed a kiss against my temple. “Mine.’ That was what that kiss said. Not, “Hello,” or “Good afternoon.” Just “Mine.”
“Targen.”
“What?”
“Behave.”
“I always behave.”
Malik laughed. That lie was outrageous enough to deserve it. Targen finally looked at him. His expression was calm, too calm. That kind of calm usually meant trouble.
Malik looked back at me. “So, this what happened to you?”
I opened my mouth but stopped as my husband’s arm slid around my waist. Then his hand moved and settled all possessively on my belly, cradling the spot where our baby lay. He looked directly at Malik.
“Ain't it clear what happened to her?”
I closed my eyes, mortified. Malik's gaze followed the movement down then immediately back up. His eyes widened.
“Oh.”
I covered my face. “Targen.”
“What?”
“You so damn embarrassing.”
“I just answered the nigga’s question.”
“You did not.”
“I did.”
Malik laughed, like for real, laughed. “Nah,” he said. “I'ma give him this one. That answered a lot.”
Targen gave me a smug look. “Told you.”
I elbowed my husband hard. He didn't even flinch, damn show-off.
Malik shook his head. “You know what? I walked right into that.”
“Yes, you did,” Targen agreed.
Malik looked between us for another moment before he nodded. “Congratulations. I'm happy for you, Theory,” he said genuinely.
I smiled back. “Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
He nodded, then looked at Targen.
“Take care of her.”
The possessive nonsense disappeared from my husband's face. His hand tightened slightly.
“Always,” he vowed.
“Good,” Malik said. He stepped backward. “I'll let y'all get back to shopping.”
“Please do,” Targen said immediately.
I slapped his arm. “Targen!”
“What?”
Malik laughed again. “Good seeing you, Theory.”
“You, too.”
“Not too damn good,” Targen muttered, picking up an apple and miming throwing it at Malik’s back.
I rolled my eyes. “You jealous of Malik?”
“No.”
The answer came so fast that I laughed. He frowned.
“Fuck I’ma be jealous for? I won.”
“Targen!”
“I did.”
“Oh, my God.”
He grinned. “I’m just playing. You are a prize, though.”
Then, he leaned down and kissed me, all slow and sweet. His kisses would always make my heart stutter; somehow, I knew that. When he pulled away, his forehead rested briefly against mine.
“I love you.”
I trailed a finger across his jaw. “I love you, too.”
He smiled slowly. Then he grabbed the shopping cart and started steering it down the aisle.
“Come on, girl. I got stuff to do,” he said.
I followed beside him, shaking my head. “More important than spending time with me?”
He stopped abruptly, turned like he wanted me to see how sincere he was.
“Moya milaya… There will never be anything more important than that.”