Chapter 7 #3
She laughed, soft, sweet, and syrupy, and rolled her eyes as if I was both the problem and the solution. But there was a light in her eyes, a gentleness breaking through the cracks of whatever weight she was carrying. It was a softness that people often overlooked until it had been tested.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, leaning in just enough that only she could hear me.”
She exhaled, her shoulders rising slowly as if she was releasing everything she didn’t want to bring into the moment. “Yeah,… I think so. Just… embarrassed, I guess.”
I paused mid-scoop, setting my spoon down as if her words needed my full attention. “For what?”
“For bringing that drama into your world. Into EJ’s. That wasn’t fair. Also, for letting Kam’s comments actually sting a little about not bearing his baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, even though I’m grateful I didn’t. I’m not sure if I can, and his comments about my uterus really bothered me.”
I wiped my hand on a napkin, and grabbed her hand to hold. Her skin was warm, like laundry fresh out of the dryer.
“Jonay. Stop that shit, baby. Right now.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, showing that she was caught off guard by my words.
“You don’t need to apologize for someone else’s madness.
That’s not your responsibility; it’s his chaos and his failure.
He’s a cautionary tale, not a chapter in your story.
God knew better and didn’t want you trapped with him, and that’s a blessing.
Plot twist, baby: God was preparing you for your happy ending with me, and I’ll give you all the fucking babies you want, on me. ”
She blinked rapidly, her eyes beginning to shimmer like streetlights reflecting tears.
“But what if his mess continues to follow me? What if it chases off every good thing before it even starts? What if it costs me… this?”
I squeezed her hand a bit tighter, as if I could press belief back into her bones.
“Then let it chase,” I said softly. “I’ll stand in front of it every time. I’ll block every demon that thinks it can reach you. You won’t lose me over a coward who’s realizing he missed out cuz he didn’t know how to carry a woman like you. You have a weight that’s holy, not heavy.”
A shaky breath escaped her lips, a mix of laughter and acceptance.
“I swear, you talk like you ghostwrite for Hallmark and The Source.”
“I’m a hood poet with a badge and a Bible app, baby. I’m versatile.” I winked at her pretty ass.
She cracked up, loudly and unfiltered, like a Sunday brunch cackle with the girls. Even EJ looked up, grinning with sticky cheeks and rainbow sherbet on his nose.
“Miss Pretty,” he said with the solemnity of a judge. “You my favorite grown-up.”
Jonay clutched her chest as if his little voice had rewired her entire nervous system.
“Boy, don’t make me cry in this darn ice cream parlor.”
“Too late,” I teased, catching her sneaking a napkin to her eyes.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a plastic sheriff badge, the kind we’d hand out at block parties. EJ usually hoarded them, but I had kept this one for her. I placed it on the table in front of her.
“For bravery under bullshit.”
She gazed at it as if it was something sacred, then clipped it to her hoodie like a war medal.
“I’ll wear it with pride.”
“You better believe it. That man tried to make you crumble, but you aren’t built for breaking. You’re the type they build foundations on. A brick house. Lip gloss popping. A .45 in the purse, just in case somebody forgets.”
We all cracked up again, even EJ, even if he didn’t know what the hell I meant.
When we stepped out, the breeze outside felt different. Peace had finally caught up to the day. The sky was stretching out in pastels, and the tension that had been wrapped around her shoulders began to unravel.
I opened the back door, buckled EJ in, kissed his forehead like I always did, and then closed it slowly.
Jonay leaned against the passenger side, arms crossed under her chest, eyes trailing over me like she was memorizing every detail for a dream she didn’t want to wake up from.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice low and sweet. “For today. For everything.”
I stepped into her space and slid my palm against the curve of her waist, as if I already knew where I belonged.
“You ain’t gotta thank me for what’s already mine to protect.”
She tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “And what’s that?”
“You.”
Her lips parted as if she wanted to challenge it, but her heartbeat was louder than her mouth that time.
“Yours, huh?”
I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead like a promise inked in prayer.
“Already.”
And I meant that shit. With every cell, scar, and ounce of purpose stitched into my soul. I called Chambers to see if he could have someone from the station go pick up her car.
The sunlight crept through the blinds, slow and golden, spilling across Jonay’s back in warm, deliberate stripes like God Himself was tracing her spine with light.
She stood at the stove barefoot in my hoodie, hood halfway off, sleeves swallowing her hands, wearing it like she owned not just the fabric, but the man it belonged to.
Her bonnet was tilted just enough to be endearing, one loc slipping free, cheeks still flushed from sleep.
She was humming something soft, sweet, low, and honeyed as she flipped the last pancake with the kind of grace that couldn’t be taught.
I didn’t just watch her.
I observed.
No… I admired, like she was art in motion and peace in real time.
“Smells like peace in here,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes and stretching as the scent of butter and vanilla hit me straight in the chest. “You cooked all that just off GP?”
She turned slightly, eyes glinting with that don’t-play-dumb energy, and grinned. “You saved me and your son from a crash-out clown yesterday. The least I could do is bless you with pancakes, Detective Fine Shyt.”
I stepped behind her, arms sliding around her waist like muscle memory, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Don’t spoil me, now. I’m the type to start expecting this every Saturday.”
She leaned into me, soft and sure, voice low and warm like syrup. “Then maybe I’ll give you a reason to.”
EJ came sliding into the kitchen in his fuzzy dinosaur slippers, voice high and excited. “Miss Pretty! I brushed my teeth! Can I have pancakes now?”
She squatted down to his level, kissing his cheek. “Of course, handsome. Go grab your plate.”
We ate like a real little family. Laughing. Teasing. Eating slowly. I poured syrup while EJ told me about some kid at day care named Malcolm who cried ’cause he lost his Spider-Man sock. Jonay rolled her eyes and said, “You’re raising the narrator of chaos, just so you know.”
After I cleaned up, I found her on the couch taking down the locs she had braided. They were now curly and framing her face, fresh and moisturized. I plopped down beside her and laced my fingers with hers.
“What’s your plans for today, Deputy Gorgeous?” I asked.
She let out a little sigh. “I’m gonna go check on my parents, see how my mama’s feeling. She’s been doing better, but still ain’t all the way there. Daddy’s trying to keep it together, but you know men like him—grieving in silence while they play strong.”
I nodded, squeezing her hand. “You got a good heart, baby. Don’t let nobody convince you otherwise.”
She smiled, but it was the weary kind, stretched thin with unspoken heaviness, the kind that held quiet storms behind the lips and looked like it took effort just to form.
“I just wanna make sure they good. All of this… Kam, yesterday… it reminded me how fast life can shift. I need to feel like I’m doing right by them, especially my mama.
Jonell has been calling like crazy since she left for her Court of Appeals training seminar.
Jason and Leila have also been on edge.”
I pulled her into my chest, letting her breathe for a moment.
“You are doing right. And if you need help carrying any of that weight, you already know…”
“I know,” she whispered. “I ain’t gotta carry it alone.”
We sat there for a minute more, me holding her like I had the strength of ten men, her breath steadying like she could finally exhale.
And when she pulled back, eyes glinting with something soft and certain, she kissed me, not to say goodbye, but to say thank you.
By the time I pulled up to Jonay’s spot, the sun was laying low over Self Ridge, bleeding amber across the pavement like God had poured honey on the streets. It was that time of evening when everything looked soft, where even chaos had the decency to quiet down.
I hadn’t texted her back all day.
Not because I didn’t want to talk, but because I needed her eyes on me when I told her how it went during my hearing with the internal affairs department. I needed to feel her spirit when I said I was good.
Before I even touched the door, it cracked open like she felt me coming.
She was barefoot, standing in the doorway in those black leggings that knew too much about my willpower, and that oversized tee that said Detention Deputy But Make It Divine in faded gold across the chest. Her locs were piled high in a loose pineapple, skin still dewy from a fresh cleanse.
She looked like bedtime and healing and the calm that rewired a man’s heartbeat.
“You good?” she asked, voice low, eyes scanning my face like she was checking for bruises invisible to the eye.
I stepped inside without a word and slid one arm around her waist, the other behind her neck, and kissed her forehead before she could overthink it. The door clicked shut behind us.
“I’m better now.”
She folded into me like I was the answer she’d been praying for on a loop. Her arms wrapped tight, her fingertips digging into my back like she needed to confirm I was still whole.
“You didn’t text back,” she whispered against my chest, voice small and raw.
“I know,” I murmured, resting my chin on her crown. “I wanted to say it to you face-to-face.”