Epilogue
Titan
two years later…
We decided at the last minute to have family over, and somehow that turned into our backyard being full of the people closest to us.
By the time I came back outside with a stack of plates, Tink had Janae on one side of her and Lani on the other, and neither one of them looked like they planned on moving.
Tink had already eaten one plate and was working on another, ribs on one side, greens and macaroni mixed how she liked it.
She pointed toward the table with her fork when she saw me.
“Put them plates down and bring me that hot sauce since my brother is neglecting me,” she joked.
“Damn, you just asked.” He frowned. “I told you not to let that nigga get you pregnant again, anyway.” He shot me a look.
“Nigga, that’s my wife and I’m gone do as I please. I can’t wait until y’all muthafuckas leave so I can do it again,” I joked.
“Hold on, greedy girl. Let me put the top on before you waste it,” she said.
“Gimme,” Timea’s little bad ass demanded.
I sat beside Tink and put my hand on the side of her stomach when our son moved. She didn’t stop eating, just shifted enough for me to feel him better while she reached for her cup.
“He’s been doing that since the ribs came off the grill,” she said.
“That’s my boy,” I spoke proudly.
“I hope he don’t act like you,” Saint but in.
“Nigga, please. Why you think Heir want to come over here all the time?”
“That little nigga got a crush on Cady, that’s all. He was the same way with Eve,” Saint explained.
“Yeah, I’m gone beat his little mannish ass,” I griped.
“You ain’t gone do shit.” Saint waved me off.
My mama came to the table with another pan, and my pops followed with Timea’s missing sandal in his hand because she had given it to him again. He set the sandal near Lani and went back to the grill.
The food kept moving, and nobody sat still for long. Saint got up to fix Eve another plate, but Noble followed him and asked for more macaroni. Eve told Saint not to give him more until he finished what he had. It was rare that we had days like this, but I enjoyed them when we did.
The house was quiet now, or as quiet as it got with the family having just left. I took Timea upstairs, and she barely moved while I wiped her face and hands, changed her, and put her in bed. She grabbed her stuffed bear without opening her eyes, turned her face into it, and went right back out.
When I came back downstairs, Tink was exactly where I left her, except now she had a throw blanket over her legs. Her eyes were half closed, but she still reached for my hand when I sat beside her.
“You good, Tink?”
She nodded, moving my hand to the side of her stomach. “He finally settled down a little.”
Our son pressed against my palm a few seconds later, and I kept my hand there while Tink leaned into me. She didn’t say anything for a minute. Neither did I.
I had spent most of my life chasing loud things. Crowds… wins… contracts, but none of it compared to my life now.
Tink yawned against my shoulder.
“You tired?” I asked.
“No,” she lied.
“You lying,” I laughed.
“I’m resting my eyes.”
I stood and held my hand out. “Come on, Tink.”
I helped her up, one hand at her back while she took her time. She complained about our son sitting low, then held onto my arm all the way to the stairs. I didn’t say anything about it. I just kept my hand where she needed it and moved when she moved.
We finally made it upstairs and were now in bed. I slid closer behind her and moved my palm where she wanted it, rubbing slow over the side of her stomach until our son shifted against my hand. She had finally got comfortable with one pillow under her stomach and another between her knees.
I kept rubbing her stomach while she settled back against me, her hand resting over mine after a few minutes. The house was quiet now, but not empty quiet.
“We were supposed to be a look,” I said. “That was all. A couple pictures, some headlines, a few events, and everybody minding their business once they believed it.”
“It worked.”
She tried to turn enough to give me a look, but her stomach stopped her from doing it how she wanted, so she settled for squeezing my hand. “You’re still annoying.”
“And you still here.”
“I married you. That don’t mean you stopped being annoying.”
I laughed against her shoulder, and she relaxed again, her fingers still locked over mine.
I thought about the first time she looked at me like she had already decided I wasn’t getting anywhere with her.
Thought about all the times she checked me, challenged me, pushed me, and somehow made herself the only woman I wanted standing beside me when the cameras were gone.
We had started with something fake, but nothing about the life around us felt fake now.
Not the ring on her hand, not our daughter sleeping down the hall, not our son moving under my palm, and damn sure not the way Tink fit against me like she had always been meant to end up there.
I kissed the back of her shoulder and kept my hand on our son until he finally settled down. Tink’s breathing slowed, but she was still awake when I said, “A lie put us in the same room, but it didn’t keep us there.”
Her hand tightened over mine. “No, it didn’t.”
“It just made enough space for us to become real.”
She was quiet after that, and so was I. There wasn’t much else to say.
The world could keep whatever version of our story it thought it knew.
The headlines… the pictures… the rumors, the beginning that wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
I knew what it had become. I knew what I had found in the middle of it.
I got lost in the lie of us and found my forever.
THE END…