Epilogue
RONAN
Mayor McLeod climbed the courthouse steps with confidence.
I’d known Carter McLeod since our time at Birmingham State.
He studied political science, and I was in criminal justice on an ROTC scholarship.
Now, as the second Black mayor, he wore his power like an expensive suit, comfortable with it but aware of who had paid for it.
“Ronan, welcome back,” he said, extending his hand. I assumed he used my first name as a reminder of our history.
“Thank you, sir. Good to be back in a different capacity,” I replied, matching his grip with my own.
He clapped my shoulder, satisfied with my diplomatic response.
“We’re ready when you are, sir,” the mayor’s assistant noted.
McLeod adjusted the microphone. “On behalf of Birmingham, in only six months, his work has brought law enforcement and the community closer together, sparking reforms now expanding throughout the country. Ronan’s commitment to fairness and integrity has set a new standard for public service here.
I want to announce Ronan as this year’s DOJ Community Impact Award winner.
We’re grateful for the foundation he’s laid here, and his leadership will bring about meaningful progress at the national level.
Birmingham will always be proud to call you one of our own, Ronan,” the mayor commented, words smooth as butter.
I stepped up to the microphone, adjusting my tie with my left hand deliberately, making sure the gold band on my ring finger caught the sunlight, a small gesture but an unmistakable one.
Ronan Banks was a married man now, and anyone who knew anything about Birmingham politics knew exactly who my wife was.
“Thank you, Mayor McLeod, and thank you to the review board for selecting me to receive this award,” I responded, my voice carrying across the courthouse plaza.
“Mr. Banks! I see you’re wearing a wedding band. It seems your eligibility status has officially changed. You’re no longer the most eligible bachelor in Birmingham?” a reporter from the Montgomery Gazette questioned.
A ripple of laughter spread through the audience, and I couldn’t help but chuckle along, the light-heartedness easing some of the tension. I glanced toward the mayor and shot back with a smirk, “I’m passing the torch to Mayor McLeod. He’ll have to take on that title now.”
The crowd laughed again, and the mayor threw his head back, laughing. “I appreciate the endorsement, but you know how it is.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you can handle the hashtag BirminghamsFinestMayor with your usual charm,” I joked, as I chuckled along.
A reporter grinned and asked, “What about any changes coming to the Department of Justice?”
I leaned into the microphone. “Yes, changes are coming. I’ll be working directly with cities across the country to help build trust and increase transparency, because real change starts with leading by example.”
The mayor nodded, his face turning serious again. “We look forward to that. The people of Birmingham deserve transparency and accountability.”
“Thank you.”
The press conference ended soon after. The mayor stepped up to answer more questions while I shook hands and exchanged a few words with officers and officials.
As I walked down the courthouse steps toward my department car with Captain Jordan, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Nia.
Nia: Congratulations. How does it feel #PrettyBoyFed
Me: I passed the #PrettyBoy torch to Mayor McLeod, but you’ll get my answer tonight.
I smiled and put my phone away. I had work to do that, for the first time, felt right in both my heart and my oath.
Talia’s voice carried through the screen door before it swung open. “There they are! Birmingham’s most controversial power couple! How was the press conference?”
“About as comfortable as standing in front of a firing squad, but I didn’t get shot, so I’m counting it as a win,” I answered with a half-smile, accepting her brief hug.
The house smelled like heaven, with a sweet potato pie cooling on the kitchen counter. Mama Vivian emerged from the kitchen, dish towel slung over her shoulder.
“There’s my son-in-law. Come here and let me see you.”
I bent down to receive her embrace, still not entirely used to how easily she’d welcomed me into the fold. Marriage hadn’t erased the wonder I felt at being part of this family, this tight-knit circle that had every reason to reject me but had instead pulled me in closer.
“Is it Dr. Price-Banks, or does he have to call you doctor in bed too?” Talia asked, grinning.
Nia rolled her eyes. “Girl, if you don’t stop! Ignore her, babe. She’s just mad because her date last night was with a man who thought Angela Davis was a brand of ice cream.”
Talia groaned. “Don’t remind me. I swear, the dating pool in Birmingham is shallower than a kiddie pool in August. Does your fine hubby have any friends worth introducing me to? Ones with, you know, actual brain cells?”
“I’ll have my people call your people. I have to warn you, though, most of them are cops, and they talk about their guns how that guy probably talked about ice cream.”
We all laughed.
“Ro, you looked sharp talking to the mayor, though I think your head’s gotten bigger since this morning. Fame will do that.” Todd’s deep voice carried from the living room doorway, where he stood with a glass of brown liquor, his wife Sandra by his side.
“The only thing big around here is your mouth, Captain. And the paycheck you’re going to owe me when the Falcons beat your Saints next week,” I shot back.
The men chuckled, and Sandra rolled her eyes affectionately. “Lord, the sports betting has started. Nia, come save us from these men.”
Nia laughed. “I’ve learned to pick my battles, Sandra. Sports talk is a losing one. Mama, what can I do?” she asked, moving toward the kitchen.
Nia slipped into the kitchen of her childhood home, reaching for plates in cabinets, bumping hips playfully with her mother as they moved around each other. My wife was strikingly beautiful here, relaxed in a way I rarely saw her anywhere else.
Talia slid up beside me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Back to the cabin for the honeymoon, huh? That’s your signature move, huh?”
“It’s a traditional spot now. We have history there.” I shrugged, not bothering to hide my smile.
“History, chemistry, biology . . .” Todd muttered into his drink, earning a playful smack on the arm from his wife.
“I packed extra snacks for y’all since the last time you two disappeared to that cabin, you came back looking half-starved,” Talia continued, gesturing to a basket on the side table.
“Food wasn’t exactly our priority,” I replied, then glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Mama Vivian hadn’t heard.
Todd threw his head back and laughed. “Look at you, with the dirty jokes. Marriage has changed you, Ro.”
He wasn’t wrong. Everything had changed, not just since the wedding, but since that first night in the holding cell where I’d met the woman who would rewrite everything I thought I knew about my life’s path.
Sandra settled beside me on the sofa, her voice dropping into what Nia called her “therapist tone,” even though she was actually an elementary school principal. “Now, I know you’re just starting the honeymoon phase, but let me give you some marriage advice that’ll serve you well.”
“Here we go.” Todd sighed, but his eyes were amused as he watched his wife start in on her favorite topic.
“Let me fill you in on a secret. Separate bathrooms! Twenty-three years with this man, and I credit indoor plumbing for at least fifteen of them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Do double sinks count?” I inquired.
“Two sinks are workable,” Sandra confirmed.
The evening passed in a blur of good food and better conversation, about my first days on the force that had Todd almost choking on his drink, Talia’s dramatic reenactment of Nia’s face when I’d proposed, and Mama Vivian’s gentle ribbing about how we’d scandalized the neighborhood by moving in together before the wedding.
Eventually, the gathering wound down. Talia made a show of checking her watch and announcing, “If y’all are leaving for the cabin, we better clear out and let you get going.”
We all stood. Sandra hugged me tight, whispering instructions about making sure Nia actually relaxed instead of spending the whole honeymoon working on research.
Todd clapped me on the shoulder. “Enjoy the time off. You deserve it, bro.”
“I receive that,” I replied.
They followed us onto the porch, the night air still warm but softer now, fireflies blinking in Mama Vivian’s garden.
Talia thrust the basket of snacks into my arms with a stern warning about proper nutrition, while Todd made one last joke about the cabin that had Sandra elbowing him sharply in the ribs.
Mama Vivian held Nia last and longest, their embrace saying more than words could. When they separated, she cupped Nia’s face between her palms and whispered something that made my wife’s eyes shine with sudden tears and a smile that lit her entire face.
We drove away after promising to call when we arrived. I asked what her mother had said.
“She said she’s proud of us. Not just me, but us. She said we’re building something real,” Nia replied softly.
After an hour’s drive, I parked the car.
“We’re here,” I said softly, reaching over to brush my fingers against her cheek.
Nia stirred, blinking slowly before her eyes focused on the cabin through the windshield. A smile spread across her face.
“You know, most people pick tropical islands or European cities for their honeymoon.”
“We aren’t most people. Besides, seemed right to return to the scene of the crime,” I replied, unbuckling my seat belt.
She laughed, the sound echoing in the car’s interior. “Is that what we’re calling it now? A crime?”
I nodded solemnly. “Breaking and entering.”
“No, sir, you definitely broke in and entered parts of me I’d kept locked up tight.”
I chuckled. “That’s terrible. You’re lucky I love you, because that line would not work on anybody else.”
I reached for her hand, pressing my lips against her knuckles, still marveling at how this woman, this brilliant, fierce, beautiful woman, had chosen me, chosen us, when she could have had a much simpler life with someone whose very profession didn’t contradict half of what she stood for.
“Stay here,” I said, getting out of the car and going around to her side. I opened her door with exaggerated formality, bowing slightly.
Nia couldn’t hide her smile. “What are you doing, Ronan?”
“Traditions,” I answered, then bent down and scooped her up in one smooth motion, one arm behind her knees, the other supporting her back. She let out a surprised yelp that dissolved into laughter as I kicked the car door shut.
“You are ridiculous. The threshold moment has passed,” Nia said, arms looped around my neck.
“Not for this threshold. First time as husband and wife in this place. That deserves a ceremony,” I countered, carrying her toward the cabin’s entrance.
I unlocked the door and pushed it with my shoulder, carrying her across the threshold.
I set her down gently in the entryway, but she didn’t move away, staying in the circle of my arms, her body pressed against mine in a way that still sent heat rushing through my veins.
“Remember the first time? How scared we both were?” she asked, her voice low and intimate in the cabin’s quiet.
“Scared? I wasn’t scared. I was . . . cautiously optimistic.”
She laughed, the vibration of it traveling from her body to mine. “You were terrified. So was I. Everything about us made no sense on paper.”
“Still doesn’t, to some people,” I acknowledged.
“It makes sense to us. That’s all that matters,” Nia confirmed, reaching up to trace the line of my jaw with her fingertips.
Her touch sent shivers down my spine, still as potent as that first day when she’d walked out of my bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel and my stunned silence.
“You know what I was thinking today? At the award ceremony?”
“Hmm?”
My voice dropped lower. Meant only for her. “The real victory is building something with you.”
A smile spread across her face. “Look at you, getting all philosophical on our honeymoon.”
“You’re a bad influence, Professor.”
“Such a romantic. I love you,” Nia murmured against my mouth, her arms tightening around my neck as she pressed herself more firmly against me.
“I love you, too, Nia Price-Banks.”
“Prove it.”
“Say less.”
I closed the door behind us, then reached back to turn the lock.
THE END
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