Epilogue
Rio de Janeiro had been everything Monroe and Promise needed it to be.
For thirty indelible days, they traded the noise of New York, people, places, and things for the escape of crashing waves, endless blue water, golden sunsets.
They had explored the beauty of Brazil by day, and got lost in one another every night.
For the first time in a long time, Monroe’s mind wasn't preoccupied, and Promise wasn't carrying the weight of the unknown.
In this space, they were simply husband and wife.
By the time they returned home, every diaper, bottle, onesie, crib sheet, and necessity had already found its place.
Thanks to Monae, they'd prepared in advance, leaving themselves nothing to worry about except enjoying the final days before their son's arrival.
Two days had expired, and Promise had gone into labor.
Labor had come unexpectedly in the middle of the night, and Monroe broke every speed limit between Tribeca and the hospital while Promise managed to breathe through her contractions with her sister Rae on the phone coaching her through.
Monroe sat in the recliner beside their bed, smiling to himself as he watched Promise and Monae sleep peacefully in the same bed.
If anyone would have told him his life was going to take him out of his comfort zone in the span of one year, he would have laughed hard in their face.
That’s exactly what had happened though.
Life had thrown a grenade at his front door, but love…
love had been the only armor necessary for protection.
Watching Promise become a mother had not only made Monroe love her more, but it had caused him to develop a deeper level of respect for who she was. As he sat skin to skin with his son, the sound of him cooing drew his attention.
“Aye, Third?” Monroe whispered, calling him by the nickname he’d given him.
“You do know it’s damn near five in the mornin’, right?
” He said, smoothing one finger over his son's impossibly soft cheek. “What the hell you doin’ up this late? You posed to be in the bed, sleep wit’cha mama,” he said, chuckling as his son stretched in his arms, seemingly catching his second wind.
“Aw, hell naw, young king. Take yo’ lil’ ass back to sleep,” Monroe said, as his son looked up at him and cracked the biggest smile, kicking his foot through the receiving blanket.
“Bad ass,” he chuckled. “Got me and yo’ mama wrapped around ya lil’ finger.”
When his sons’ fingers instinctively wrapped around his thumb, everything inside him shifted.
Having money had never made him feel this rich, the power he possessed had never given him this level of strength, and respect was always given, but had never made him feel this important.
But when his son gripped his finger, it had meant more than The Black Empire ever could.
The responsibility that was wrapped up in his son's grip trumped every business or street investment he could ever make.
For the first time in his life, Monroe wasn't thinking about what he'd leave behind.
He was thinking about who he'd leave it to.
"You remember that promise Daddy made you?" Monroe quizzed.
Third blinked slowly, staring into his father’s face as though he recognized the voice he'd spent months listening to from inside his mother's womb.
"I meant every word," he assured his son.
Monroe smiled back and said. "You'll never have to wonder where I stand, Young King," he said, then kissed his forehead. "A promise is still a promise."
Third smiled again, his eyes wide open.
"Damn..." Monroe laughed softly. "Yo’ as betta stop all that smilin’, ain’t nobody gon’ take you serious, man," Monroe playfully warned his son.
“Not too much on my brother,” Monae said, waking up from her nap. “How long was I sleep?”
Monroe laughed. “Aye’, I’m just sayin’. My mans’ over here woke like a mu’fucka at five in the mornin’. He gotta cut this shit out,” Monroe said, but really wasn’t tripping because he was a night owl himself. “You wanna hold him?”
“Yes, I always wanna hold him.” Monae happily stood.
“I got’chu, Muffin,” Monroe said, standing up. “I’ma bring him over there, just sit up against the headboard,” he instructed, walking in her direction.
Monroe eased Third into his sister's arms, and as he looked up at Monae, he smiled again.
"Oh my gosh! Look," Monae said, excitedly. "Dad! He’s smiling at me. Him loves his sister.”
Monroe laughed at his daughter, but was glad that she felt that connection with her baby brother. She’d been spending a lot of time with him, and he loved having her around.
Promise stirred in her sleep before opening her eyes. “What are y’all doing to my sweet boy?” Promise cooed as an instant, sleepy smile graced her face.
"He's smiling at me," Monae said, smoothing her fingers over her baby brother’s silk, cold black coils.
Promise laughed softly. "I think somebody already knows who his favorite sister is."
"I'm his only sister," Monae corrected proudly.
"And the best one he'll ever have," Monroe added.
Promise glanced at her husband as he sat back down in the recliner and turned on the TV, then her bonus daughter as she held their newest addition to the family.
Every prayer she'd whispered through tears, every heartbreak she'd survived, every difficult decision she'd made...
God had found a way to make it all worth it.
This had been the ending that had been destined from the beginning, she just needed to see it through.
Monroe looked over at his wife. "You good, Mrs. Black?"
Promise smiled through grateful tears because she hadn’t just married the love of her life.
She'd married the father every child deserved.
"I've never been better," she said, meaning every word, and would willingly go through it all over again. As long as it was guaranteed that at the end, she’d land exactly where she was. With her family.
The End…