James #2
“Take your time, and you keep a toothbrush and toothpaste with you at all times?” I asked her as I chuckled.
“Doesn’t everyone? Let’s go, I want to be with her,” she said. “Calla.”
We went back to the living room.
Calla looked up the second we stepped in, her expression instantly shifting from calm to alert. “Everything okay?” she asked, her tone protective and sharp enough to cut glass.
I nodded, glancing at Amiyah.
“She’s okay,” I said. “Just needed a breather.”
Calla’s eyes softened. “You sure?”
Amiyah smiled faintly. “Yeah. Just… a lot tonight.”
Calla reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re all feeling it. But you’re here now. That’s enough.”
I watched the two of them, the way they leaned into each other like they were drawing strength from a shared current. After the night we had, I was finally able to feel something closer to peace than pain.
The ghosts for the Black family were gone, and now the healing could begin, and we’d get the honor of seeing Calla bloom freely.
The night at Caleb’s stretched longer than I expected. The laughter faded into low conversation, then quiet. People started to drift out one by one, the emotional weight of the day catching up to them.
By the time the house thinned out, the air felt calmer. Calla was curled up with Amiyah on the couch, finally relaxed, their heads close together. I slipped outside onto the back deck to get a little air, the cool night breeze cutting through the heaviness that still clung to my chest.
That’s where I found Maverick, Knox, and Ajaih.
They were sitting together at the patio table, a bottle of whiskey open between them, city lights stretching out beyond the trees.
Knox was leaning back in his chair, one arm around Maverick’s shoulders, while Ajaih sat across from them, legs folded under her, barefoot and comfortable in her skin like she owned the moment.
It struck me then how effortless they seemed. Not perfect, nobody is, but in sync. They looked like they felt peace.
“Mind if I join you?” I asked.
Maverick smiled, gesturing to the empty chair. “Never.”
I sat, poured myself a drink, and for a moment we just sat in companionable silence, the sounds of laughter faint inside the house.
Then I said what had been sitting on my tongue all night. “How do y’all do it?”
Maverick raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”
“This,” I said, motioning between them. “Be married, be three, be happy. Still be yourselves without losing who you are in it.”
Knox chuckled, that deep, easy kind of laugh that comes from someone comfortable in their truth. “You mean, how do we keep from killing each other?”
I smirked. “Something like that.”
Ajaih leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You really want the honest answer?”
“That’s why I asked.”
“It’s work,” she said simply. “A lot of it. And not the pretty kind you can post about. It’s therapy, check-ins, nights where we have to name hard truths out loud instead of letting them fester.”
Maverick nodded. “We don’t pretend to be perfect. We just made a pact early on, honesty first, always. Even when it hurts.”
Knox took his hand and gently squeezed it. “And we protect each other’s individuality. I’m still me, he’s still him, she’s still her. We don’t merge into one person, we move like three separate souls aligned in the same direction.”
That hit me harder than I expected.
I leaned back in my chair. “That’s what I want,” I admitted quietly. “To build something real with them, without losing myself, or smothering them in the process. I’ve spent my whole life trying to control everything, to hold the peace. It’s hard to let go of that instinct.”
Maverick looked at me, eyes softening. “You’ve always been the peacekeeper, James. You carried the load nobody else saw. But you can’t love like that. You can’t keep people safe and free at the same time.”
Ajaih nodded slowly. “Let them love you the way you love them, openly, imperfectly, and with grace.”
Knox poured a little more whiskey into my glass. “And don’t forget the fun. Love’s heavy sometimes, but it’s supposed to lift you too.”
I laughed under my breath. “You sound like a damn Hallmark card.”
Knox grinned. “A sexy one, though.”
That got all three of us laughing, the sound carrying into the night.
Maverick’s voice softened again. “You’re doing fine, James. They adore you. Just don’t hide behind control. Let them see you, all of you.”
I looked through the sliding glass doors, where Calla and Amiyah were still curled up together, whispering and smiling like they’d built their own little universe.
“I’m trying,” I said quietly. “For them, I really am.”
Maverick nodded, his expression proud and gentle. “Then you’re giving them the best parts of you.”
We sat there a while longer, just breathing in the quiet, the three of them a picture of the kind of love that felt possible now—a love built on choice, trust, and the freedom to exist fully as yourself.
Lately, I didn’t feel like I was holding the world together; instead, I felt like I could be myself, unmasked. I wasn’t afraid to show Calla and Amiyah my flaws and imperfections because they still loved me.
We ended up crashing at Black’s for the night. Calla needed and wanted the comfort of her brothers, and they needed and wanted the comfort of their baby sister, too. Amiyah wasn’t leaving her side, and I refused to end my nights not in bed with the women I loved.