Epilogue #3
Dre’s old apartment building sat a few blocks off campus, close enough that we used to pretend the walk back after games counted as cooling down.
The building looked better now. New windows.
Fresh paint on the trim. Better lights near the entrance.
But the front steps were the same, and the curb where he used to park still pulled the memory right out of me.
My steps slowed.
Dre noticed. “You remember?”
I looked at him. “Of course I remember.”
Years ago, in front of this building, beside his black Hellcat, Dre had officially asked me to be his girl.
I could still see him.
Young Dre in gray sweats and an AWU tee stretched across his chest, gold chain at his neck, diamond in his ear, standing beside that car like the street belonged to him.
I had been in a pink top and jeans, gold hoops in my ears, sneakers with pink at the sole, nails done because I had always believed a bad day could be helped by a fresh set.
He had looked at me with that cocky little smile, trying to act casual and failing because his eyes gave him away.
“So what we doing, Mani?” he had asked.
“About what?”
“About us.”
“Is there an us?”
He stared at me like I had personally offended him.
“You playing with me?”
“A little.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Then ask me right.”
He stepped closer, all young confidence with nerves underneath it. “I’m asking you to be my girl. Official. Mine. Whatever word makes you stop acting like you don’t already know.”
I tried to make him suffer. For maybe three seconds.
Then I smiled.
Big and happy in a way I still remembered in my cheeks.
“Okay,” I’d said.
“Okay?”
“Yes, Andre. I’ll be your girl.”
The grin that broke across his face should have warned me.
Before I could step back, he caught me around my thighs and lifted me against him like I weighed nothing. I squealed and wrapped myself around him, laughing while he held me in front of his apartment building with the Hellcat gleaming behind us.
“It’s you and me, Mani,” he said, face tucked close to mine. “Forever.”
My arms tightened around his neck.
Then he lowered his mouth near the place over my heart, where my little infinity tattoo was hidden beneath my shirt like a secret I had gotten before I knew what it would one day mean.
“To Infinity,” he whispered.
Back then, forever had sounded easy.
It wasn’t.
I knew that now.
I knew it standing in the same place with his ring on my finger and his child beneath my heart.
Dre stepped behind me and wrapped both arms around my waist. His palms settled low over me, and I leaned back against his chest.
“You thinking about that night?” he asked.
“Yes.”
His mouth brushed my temple. “You smiled so hard when you said yes.”
“I did not.”
“You did. Whole face gave you away.”
“You picked me up like a caveman.”
“You liked it.”
“I loved it.”
His arms tightened.
For a while, we stood there in front of the old building while Homecoming carried on a few blocks away. A group of students passed on the other side of the street, laughing too loud, young enough to believe time was something they could spend without counting.
Dre’s hand shifted, covering mine when it settled over my belly.
“You tired?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Hungry?”
“Always now, apparently.”
“Our child is serious about snacks.”
I laughed softly, then turned in his arms.
The streetlight touched his face, and for one second, I saw both versions of him at once. The boy who promised me forever before he knew what forever would ask. The man who found his way back to me and learned how to build it for real.
“I love you,” I said.
His dark brown eyes warmed.
“I love you too, Mrs. Jones.”
“That still does something to me.”
“Good.”
“You enjoy that too much.”
“I enjoy you too much.”
I smiled, and he kissed me in front of his old apartment building, slow and sweet, one hand at my back and the other still resting near the life we had made.
The world had loved us loudly before.
This felt better.
A quiet sidewalk. His old building. The man I had grown with, lost, found again, and married holding me with both hands.
When he lifted his mouth, he touched his forehead to mine.
“You ready to go home?”
I looked around one more time.
At the old steps.
The curb where his Hellcat used to sit.
The building I had left years ago with a broken heart, never imagining I would come back as his wife.
Then I looked at my husband.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He took my hand and started us back toward campus.
Somewhere above us, a window opened and music drifted down to the sidewalk. The first notes of “Best Part” caught me before I could keep walking. Dre heard it too. His eyes found mine, and neither of us said a word. His thumb moved over my wedding band once before he started us forward again.
Then he looked down at me. “After Mason’s.”
I laughed. “What?”
“I’m taking you to Mason’s first. You’re hungry for fries and a shake.”
“You think you know everything.”
“I know you.”
That was true.
My palm settled over my belly again, over the quiet miracle growing inside of me.
Once, I thought forever had ended the night I left him. I was wrong.
Forever had only been waiting for us to grow into it. To find our way back to it.
And what a sweet return it had been.
THE END