Epilogue
Ayear had a way of shifting everything without asking for permission. Green Driving Range wasn’t the same place Zaire pulled into that first morning…angry, exhausted, carrying half a lifetime on his back. It wasn’t even close.
The Millers had finally folded. Thirty-nine untouched acres rolled right up against Meadow’s original land, and Zaire bought every inch of it in cash.
He didn’t negotiate; he didn’t flinch when they tossed out their offer because he’d never short change Black people.
He signed the papers like he was reclaiming something stolen and setting it back where it belonged.
Now, the range stretched far and wide, a Black oasis in the middle of Missouri. A custom sign in green, blue, and gold sat near the front entrance. THE GREEN: HOME OF THE NEXT GENERATION.
Kids in tiny polos ran drills. Teens took lessons from real instructors. Black women came for clinics that started with cocktails and ended with them cussing happily at golf balls that refused to bend to their wrists.
On the back half of the property, sleek glamping cabins rose from the earth like tiny luxury sanctuaries. Families rented them for weekend retreats. Influencers came for content. Corporate teams booked them for gatherings and left humbled by the culture they stepped into.
Meadow’s parents still lived in the old house.
It was now renovated with a wraparound porch, a medical-grade bed, and skylights Magnolia loved to stare at.
Some days Magnolia was all the way here.
Some days she floated somewhere softer. But she was steady, safe, and loved and that was all Meadow ever wanted for her Mom.
Rena came back once Zaire offered a bigger salary and free range to flirt with the golfers. She wanted her fairytale too.
Lesha had her own place on the land too, a modern farmhouse with steel beams and lavender paint she insisted was gray.
She hosted Sunday dinners, cussed the kids out, and guarded Meadow like she was her own.
She also loved on Magnolia harder than anyone there, which resulted in her and Rena building a love-hate relationship that left the family in stitches when they bickered back and forth. Magnolia loved being fought over.
But on the highest hill overlooking everything…stood their home.
Fifteen thousand square feet carved into the earth like a Black fairytale mansion.
Glass walls…warm woods…natural stone and a rooftop deck with a view you got lost in every time you stepped up there. It was big enough for their future, and rooted enough to still feel like a home and not a museum.
Zaire walked through it every morning barefoot, stretching his arms over his head, smelling coffee drifting from the kitchen, listening for Meadow’s footsteps.
This evening, the air carried an early-spring warmth, that made the land glow gold before the sun tucked itself away.
Meadow sat on the velvet bench in their foyer, flipping through reservation notes for the upcoming summer programs, rubbing her stomach absentmindedly though she didn’t understand yet why it felt different.
Zaire stepped in from outside, smelling like the course. Fresh cut fairway, sunshine, and the faintest trace of smoke from the weed he and Ray shared on the deck.
“Baby,” he called out softly.
She looked up. “Hmm?”
“I got somethin’ for you.”
“Zaire, if it’s another piece of jewelry, I swear…”
“Nah,” he smirked, “this one…is better.”
Her eyebrows jumped. “What is it?”
“Just c’mon.” He led her to the living room near the floor-to-ceiling windows with the last stretch of sunset.
Meadow’s hand flew to her mouth as a tiny black fluffball tripped over its own paws trying to run toward them. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
The puppy barked, a squeaky, excited little yelp and crashed straight into her lap when she knelt down.
Zaire crouched behind her, grinning big and boyish. “Name’s Blue.”
She laughed into the puppy’s curls. “Blue?”
“Yeah. Named after the way I found life again,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder. “After what you gave me back.”
“And that flag you love to tote,” Meadow teased, pulling Blue into her chest.
He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, that too.”
Blinking fast, she pulled the puppy to her chest again, as he licked her face like he had been waiting on her his whole life. “He’s perfect, Zaire.”
“Nah, you’re perfect,” he said. “This just the warm-up, cuh.”
She laughed. “Oh Lord. What else you get?”
“A room.”
“A room?” Her brows pulled together.
“A special one.” He stood, holding his hand out. “Come fuck with me.”
She followed him down the hallway, Blue trotting behind them, nails clicking softly on the hardwood. Zaire opened a door she hadn’t seen him use in months.
When the lights came on, Meadow stood in the doorway, taking it all in.
The room was dark and mood-soaked. The walls were washed in a soft blue LED glow that moved like water.
A polished chrome pole rose from floor to ceiling.
A velvet couch sat against the wall. Mirrors stretched across one side, expensive and intentional.
A speaker system hummed low from the corner, waiting for a command.
It was sexy as hell.
Meadow swallowed. “Zaire…” Finally, she walked into the room, spinning around to bask in it.
“I been listenin’ to you,” he grinned, stepping behind her, hands sliding along her arms. “You miss your sensual zone, your playground, your space to be soft and wild at the same time.”
She chewed on her lip because she truly missed her pole.
It gave her something to look forward to, something to unwind with, something to show out for her husband with.
They didn’t wait to walk down aisle, on their own land in a lush wedding ceremony surrounded by the people who loved them so in some ways they were still settling in.
“You need a room the world doesn’t get to witness,” he whispered, “where it’s just you and whatever part of you- you want to hide from everybody else.”
Her eyes glossed over. “Baby…this is…this is beautiful.”
Zaire exhaled against her neck. “You deserve beautiful, more than I know how to give sometimes.”
She turned in his arms, slid her hands up his chest, and looked at him like he was the only man she had ever loved. “You give me everything.”
He kissed her. His kisses always felt so intentional, like he’d saved all the best ones just for her. Sensual kisses that made Blue sit down politely like he understood he needed to mind his business.
They backed up toward the velvet couch, mouths tangled, breathing unevenly. Meadow’s fingertips traced his face, his brows, his beard, and his eyes. The ones she had memorized a year ago and still felt newly addicted to. His hands curved around her waist like he’d built himself up just to hold her.
“You know this land looks different ‘cause of you,” she purred, her voice syrupy.
“Well my life feels different ‘cause of you,” he responded back.
“Zaire…” she dragged her lips along his neck. “I love this man you’re lettin’ yourself be.”
He groaned, dragging her between his gaped wide open legs. “I love the woman you don’t even realize you’re becoming.”
“Dear, God, thank you,” she whispered, her lips still pressed into his, “because I love this man so much.”
“Prove it,” Zaire challenged. “Let me see you naked on that pole, pussy wide the fuck open for me.”
Her spine tingled but she was never going to turn down an opportunity to show out for him.
Meadow climbed into his lap without hesitation, kissing him slowly, rolling her hips in a teasing way that made his voice stutter in his throat. Blue wandered off to sniff a corner, uninterested in adult activities.
“Handle that.” He palmed her ass making her huff into his neck.
Meadow slipped off his lap and stood in front of him, palms pressing into his chest before she stepped back. He reached for his phone to give her the full effect of the room. He’d gone all out. The moment he connected the music to the surround sound, the room levitated.
Your Hands by Marsha Ambrosius poured through the speakers, the lights responding like they understood the assignment. Blue washed over the walls, dimming and pulsing soft enough for you to feel instead of see.
Meadow took slow steps to the pole, pulling her dress over her head. She didn’t have on a bra but peeled her panties off, making her ass shake with each step. Had she known what his surprise was, she would’ve had on a pair of heels too.
Zaire licked his lips, lost in the sway of his wife’s hips.
The song, the lights, and her body had him in a trance he never wanted to break free from.
Meadow had changed his life just by being herself.
Her presence settled his traumatic one, her love made him feel like a man.
And the smile on her face was never lost on him.
To be her everything had him walking in his purpose.
“Zaire,” Meadow’s voice pulled him outta his head. “You okay?”
“Always, when I’m with you.”
Her cheeks hiked to her eyes. “Then eyes on me.”
He chuckled. “Aye.”
The spreading of her legs wiped that smile right off his face. Meadow’s pussy was dripping and her eyes were locked on him.
Zaire rested his hands on his thighs as he dipped his head to get a better look. Seeing her pink insides, he licked his lips.
She rolled her shoulders, loosening herself, eyes stuck on his before she turned around to the pole.
Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal and she leaned into it, letting the music guide her instead of chasing the beat.
Every movement was unrushed. She moved like a woman who knew exactly how much power she held.
Zaire exhaled through his teeth, hands clasped together like he needed something to do with them. His temples pulsed when she arched her back slowly, hair sliding over her shoulders, hips swaying just enough to make the room feel smaller.
“Baby…” he stuttered over his own voice “You doin’ this on purpose.” He gripped his dick through his pants.