Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The reception was everything Paige deserved.
String lights hung across the rooftop venue, the Nashville skyline glittering behind them.
Tables draped in ivory and gold. A live band that had already played every Black wedding classic from “Before I Let Go” to “Always and Forever.” The food was immaculate—Paige had insisted on a full spread, and nobody was complaining.
“Whew,” she muttered as she made her way back to the table, easing into her chair and slipping her heels off under the tablecloth. Her feet were done. RJ had been sitting low all week, and every step felt like a negotiation.
She was fanning herself with a cocktail napkin when Rolani appeared and set a plate down in front of her.
Wedding cake. She’d been talking about this cake since Paige mentioned the champagne layers and raspberry filling three weeks ago.
She looked up at him. “How did you—”
“You wouldn’t stop talking about the raspberry filling.” He sat down and loosened his tie. “I went and grabbed you a slice before the line got deep.”
She stared at him for a second.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing.” She picked up the fork. “You’re just—” She stopped, shook her head, and took a bite instead of finishing the sentence. She closed her eyes for a second as the flavors mixed. “You are so good to me.”
Rolani leaned back in his chair and said nothing, which meant he was pleased with himself.
“How you feeling, momma?” His hand found her leg and brought her foot into his lap, rubbing her feet.
“Tired. Full.” She glanced down at her stomach, where RJ had been stubbornly still all evening. “Betrayed by this child who was supposed to be here two days ago.”
“He’s comfortable, and nobody told y’all ratchet asses to be throwing a WHAM in a circle.”
“Don’t be a hater and rude.” She took another bite. “Dr. Khalifa said dancing helps.” She looked at him sideways. “We should dance.”
He looked back at her. “You just took your shoes off, and I know your dogs barking right now.”
She poked her lip out, but he wasn’t persuaded. “I can put them back on. One slow dance with my future husband should be fine.”
Her lip poking out was always going to do him in, and she knew it.
“One dance and you gon rest your feet. Spoiled ass.”
He grabbed her heels and slipped them back on her feet before helping her up. The DJ had shifted from upbeat music to “All My Life” by KC and Jojo, drawing all the couples onto the dance floor.
He pulled her in, and she turned, settling her back against his chest. His arms came around her, hands cradling the underside of her belly, lifting slightly. The relief was immediate, and she exhaled from the relief.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you, baby.”
“This is not going to work,” he said into her hair.
“You don’t know that. I’ve been dancing all night.”
He laughed warmly and held her a little tighter. They swayed together in the middle of Paige and Giovanni’s night, unbothered, the two of them in their own small quiet while the world celebrated around them. It was always like that.
“You scared?” she asked after a moment.
He was quiet long enough that she knew the answer.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “A little bit.”
“Me too.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then his arms tightened around her, and his lips pressed to the side of her head.
“Me too, baby,” he said. “Me too.”
They stayed like that until the song ended. When they finally pulled apart, Rolani looked down at her stomach with a look that was equal parts love and warning.
“Aight, li’l man. You can come out now. We ready.”
Kennedi laughed. “That is not how it—”
“A’ight, a’ight!” The DJ’s voice cut through the music. “It’s that time, y’all. All my single ladies, get on the dance floor. Paige is about to throw the bouquet!”
The crowd cheered. Women started gathering—cousins, friends, a few aunties who were here for the fun.
“That’s you,” Shadow said, pushing Kennedi toward the group.
“I’m engaged.”
“You’re not married yet. Get up there.”
“Shadow—”
“It’s tradition!”
“I’m nine months pregnant, what the hell do I look like fighting over flowers!”
“Waddle your ass up here and quit fussing.”
Blake laughed and took her other arm. “Stand in the back. You don’t have to catch it.”
Kennedi let herself be dragged to the edge of the group, standing behind the eager single women who actually wanted the bouquet. She caught Rolani’s eye across the room. He wasn’t laughing.
“Aye, don’t get too rough with the pregnant woman. I’m wit da shit if so.”
Giovanni and the men laughed, but he didn’t find a damn thing funny.
Be careful, he mouthed.
Paige stood at the front of the dance floor, bouquet in hand—a gorgeous arrangement of white roses and eucalyptus. She turned her back to the crowd, looked over her shoulder with a mischievous grin.
“Y’all ready?”
Cheers erupted.
“One... two... three!”
The bouquet sailed through the air.
Kennedi wasn’t even trying to catch it. She had her hands up defensively, ready to deflect. But somehow—maybe the universe had a sense of humor—the flowers curved directly toward her and landed square in her palms.
She stood there, stunned, holding the bouquet.
“It’s giving planned!” she shouted. “I don’t need—”
And then she felt it.
The warm rush between her legs, the pressure releasing.
Splash.
For a second, nobody moved. Then Shadow looked down at the floor.
“Kennedi... did you just...”
“Oh my God.” Kennedi’s voice came out strangled. “Oh my God, my water broke.”
Chaos erupted.
“HER WATER brOKE!”
Kennedi stood frozen, bouquet still clutched in her hands, a puddle forming at her feet. The single women scattered. Blake grabbed her arm to steady her. Spirit was already pushing through the crowd, shouting for Rolani.
Monroe’s voice cut through the noise, “UNCLE RO! AUNTIE KEN’S WATER brOKE!”
And then he was there—Rolani, cutting through the crowd like nothing else existed. His face was a mix of panic and focus, his hands immediately finding her shoulders.
“Baby. Look at me. You okay?”
“My water broke.”
“I know. I see that. You okay?”
“I think so. I—” A contraction hit, sharp and sudden, and she doubled over, grabbing his arm. “Oh. Oh shit.”
“Okay, we gotta go. Now.” He was already moving, arm around her waist, guiding her toward the exit. He pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Robin. “Bring my car back to the house. I’m taking her truck.”
Outside, the valet had already pulled the Range Rover around—matte black, fully loaded, a push gift Rolani had surprised her with a few weeks ago. He helped her into the passenger seat, reclined it slightly, and made sure she was comfortable.
“Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
“I’m trying.” Another contraction. She gripped the door handle. “They’re coming fast, Ro.”
“I know. The hospital is fifteen minutes away. I’ll make it ten.”
A FEW HOURS LATER…
The day had surprised her.
Being pregnant stretched her in ways she hadn't anticipated — the exhaustion, the weight, the way her body stopped feeling entirely like her own.
But delivering her son was a different challenge entirely.
One that didn't ask for permission and left no room for argument.
She had done something today she would never fully be able to explain to anyone who hadn't done it themselves.
She was still sitting inside it, feeling the limits of who she had been and who she was now, understanding they were not the same person.
Rolani Xavier Pracher Jr. was five hours old.
She was a mother.
RJ’s mother.
She hadn’t stopped looking at him since the nurses placed him on her chest in that delivery room, and she didn’t plan to stop now.
Rolani was reclined in the hospital chair they’d dragged close to her bed, shirt off, RJ skin to skin against him the way the nurses had shown them.
The room was dim, and the hallway outside had finally settled into its late-night quiet.
The monitors kept their steady rhythm. Everything else was still.
RJ’s little fist was curled against his father’s collarbone.
Rising and falling. Rolani’s hand covered his entire back.
His head had dropped back, mouth slightly open, locs loose around his shoulders.
He’d been awake through all of it — every contraction, every push, every moment Kennedi had needed someone to hold onto — and the exhaustion had finally claimed him.
She watched them and didn’t move.
Her phone sat on the tray table; notifications stacked from people who loved them and wanted to know. They’d asked everyone to hold off until tomorrow. This night belonged to the three of them. She’d respond in the morning.
Right now, she had no interest in anything that existed outside this room.
RJ stirred. A small sound, barely anything, but Rolani’s hand moved on his back before his eyes opened. Before he was even fully awake, his body already knew.
His eyes opened slowly. Found her across the room watching him and their son.
Neither of them said anything.
After a while, he spoke.
“Talk to me, baby. You good?”
“Yeah.” She looked at him, then at RJ, then back at him. “I’m perfect. I can’t believe he’s here with us.”
He nodded slowly, eyes moving down to their son. His thumb moved in a small unconscious circle on RJ’s back.
“You?” she asked.
He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“Best day of my life so far,” he said quietly.
“So far?”
“Yeah. The next will be when I make you my wife. Go ahead and start planning. I’m ready.”