Xyleek’s Epilogue
Xyleek’s Epilogue
One Year Later
“Really, Xyleek?” My therapist, Gordon, looked at me in disbelief.
Placing my daughter, Promise’s, car seat on the couch, I shrugged. “What?”
He blinked slowly as if I had brought a damn lion or something in his office instead of my healthy, nine-month-old child, who was happily kicking her feet in her car seat.
I already knew she was trying to kick her damn socks off.
Promise hated having socks on, but instead of crying about it, she figured out how to get them off every single time. That was my baby!
“You brought your daughter with you to your therapy session?”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it, doc?” I unstrapped her, and the second I was holding her in my arms, she grabbed a fistful of my beard.
Her latest obsession had been with her hands and mouth, specifically grabbing things and putting them in her mouth.
We could see two little teeth trying to break through her gums at the bottom, so we knew she was teething.
Nothing within Promise’s reach was safe.
Hide ya keys, hide ya phones, because if she could pick it up, it was going straight into her mouth for her to gnaw on.
“Her mom has a VIP client, and when my wife has clients, she can’t be in mommy mode, feel me?
Her grandparents are out of the country, and her aunties are busy.
Her uncle doesn’t believe in babysitting alone, and that’s the only people I trust with her, so here we are,” I explained, something I had become really good at.
Before, explaining myself seemed like the dumbest idea.
I’m Xyleek muthafuckin’ Chambers, that’s self-explanatory.
I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and explain it to who, for what?
Since starting therapy six months ago, I’d come to realize what taking accountability truly looked like.
It looked like explaining and checking myself and slowing down just enough to think before I reacted.
Hiding behind the that’s just how I am bullshit was lame as fuck, and I had to man up in ways I hadn’t manned up before.
Not just for me, but for my wife and my daughter.
He nodded slowly. “I see. You could’ve rescheduled, Xyleek.”
“Why would I do that?” I tried to take my chain out of P’s mouth, but her grip was crazy strong.
“I don’t really think therapy is the place for infants.”
“Nah, P is a good baby. You won’t even know she’s here,” I lied, successfully removing the diamonds from her drooly mouth and setting her on the couch.
Gordon watched in silence as I unpacked her baby bag, spreading out her blanket and a few toys to keep her occupied.
As long as she had something to chew on, Promise was a chill lil’ baby.
She could get into some shit though, when she wanted to.
Luckily, it was close to her nap time, and I already had her milk prepared so that she could eat before going to sleep.
“See?” I gestured after a few moments of Promise sitting quietly on her blanket, going to town on her teething ring.
Chuckling, he nodded and motioned for me to take a seat, and I did. “The last time you were here, we discussed your progress with controlling your anger. How has that been going?”
“Good. Dreka thinks I still overreact sometimes, but it’s better than before.”
“In what ways do you still overreact, and in what ways is it better than before?” he questioned, scribbling in his notebook.
I glanced down at P as she rolled herself onto her stomach.
“For instance, last week, Drek and I went to look at new cars. I feel like the salesman was being too damn flirty. Like, shit, nigga, I know you got a commission to collect, but that don’t mean you need to be smiling all hard in my wife’s face, right?
Go smile at another nigga’s wife! The old me would’ve pulled up on his ass after he got off, but the new me?
Oh, the new me counted to ten, like we talked about, and I thought about how pissed off Drek was gon’ be if I showed my ass. ”
“Alright,” he laughed a little, pushing his glasses up on his face. “And what were your next steps?”
“I told Drek we were leaving, so we bounced. When we got to the car, I explained to her that I ain’t like all that smiley shit that nigga had going on, and she told me I was overreacting,” I said, throwing my hands up as Promise started babbling loudly.
“And were you?”
“Helllll no,” I deadpanned. “There’s a time and a place for that friendly shit, and it ain’t with my wife. I didn’t get ignorant with her though. I kept shit cool.”
“How did she take that?”
Noticing P pulling at her ponytails, I knew that was her universal sign for nap time. She either pulled her hair or scratched her arms when she was getting sleepy.
“One sec, Doc.”
Going into her baby bag, I took out the thermos that contained her milk and then carefully transferred it into her bottle.
See, being a super nigga dad meant I had to get creative, and there weren’t always microwaves available for me to warm her milk up when we were out and about.
That’s when I got the bright idea to warm it up in a thermos and bring it with me.
It kept her milk warm for hours, and I felt like a gahdamn genius with my dad hack.
Lifting her into my arms, she began whining and grabbing on my shirt.
The universal sign for hurry up, Daddy, I’m sleepy.
“Here you go, pretty girl,” I popped the nipple in her mouth and then kissed her forehead.
One of her hands still had a mean grip on my shirt while the other rested on top of her bottle. As she sucked the milk down, she lovingly stared at me, making my heart soft like always. Promise and Drek were my entire world, but being a dad just really did it for me.
“You’re gentle with her,” Gordon noted with a soft smile.
Getting comfortable on the couch again, I nodded. “Yeah, I have to be. I know she’s not the fragile little baby we brought home nine months ago, but I still feel like it most days, ya know?” I glanced down at her, and she was already drifting off to sleep. “Sorry, go ahead, Doc. You were saying?”
“I asked how did your wife respond to you keeping your cool?”
“Oh,” I snapped my fingers. “That’s right.
Let’s just say…Promise might have a lil’ brother or sister on the way with how I put it down that night,” I bragged with a laugh.
“Dreka said she was proud of me for not losing my cool in front of the salesman. She also said she really sees the changes in me.”
He beamed proudly. “Good, Xyleek, that’s really good. I think having your wife reassure you that she notices a real change in your behavior will help keep you on track.”
“Fasho. Like I told you, it’s important to me to be the best example for my daughter.”
“And you’re well on your way,” he complimented me.
I ain’t need no nigga to compliment me, but to hear a therapist…a licensed therapist, tell me that I was making progress meant something. It felt good, I can’t lie, and not just because it was a compliment, but because I never thought I’d get here.
I was sure I was gon’ be the nigga that was known for wilding out for forever.
Now, I only want to be known as Drek’s husband, P’s father, and a reputable businessman in the streets and in the diamond business.
I wanted my name to be held in high regard when people brought me up.
For the last year, I’d been working extremely hard at that.
I locked in with The Diamond Chambers and secured some major deals that put me in a completely different tax bracket.
I got a few more ports on lock so the keys were moving through the water like sharks.
I wasn’t dropping unnecessary bodies, and I’d tightened my circle a little more.
I only wanted people around me who were going to hold me accountable for my actions.
That was a hard conversation for me and Blow because the nigga never checked me when I was running around all stupid on Drek.
He was a yes man, essentially, but that shit was more so out of fear than him agreeing with my actions.
He wasn’t necessarily a bad friend, he was just a scared one, and I ain’t really need that around me or my family.
We still did business together, but as far as kicking it, I deaded that shit.
I was very aware of how my temper could put fear in a nigga’s heart, but I needed people around me that didn’t fold, no matter how pissed I got.
Y’all see how Jah checked my ass, and the nigga shoulder bumped me without a fuckin’ care in the world.
That was the kinda people I needed in my corner ‘cause when it came down to it, they had my best interests at heart. And it wasn’t that I was thinking about cheating or no shit like that ‘cause I’d never do that to Drek again.
It was just that when I did have to make appearances and Drek couldn’t come, that only made the groupie bitches feel like they had a chance to get close.
A nigga like Jah would be right there reminding me not to do no stupid shit while a nigga like Blow might tell me, Drek ain’t here.
That was the difference, which was why I had to adjust who was in my inner circle.
Now, the main people I spent time with were my wife and daughter, and outside of them, our families, Jah, Ken, and Rae.
All of them were solid and truly wanted to see the Chambers win, and I appreciated that.
Finishing up my session an hour later, I set my next appointment, got P together, and then headed out of the office. She was still knocked out as I strapped her into the back of my truck.
“You’re so pretty, baby,” I kissed her fat cheeks, just staring at the little creation of love that came out of my wife.