Epilogue
Dice
Always hers. Always mine
The ceiling fan hums overhead, slow and lazy, pushing warm July air around the room. New York never sleeps. Horns honking, soca blasting from somebody’s window, a siren wailing in the distance.
Lot’s sprawled across me, cheek on my chest, smelling of jasmine and sex. My wife. Our fingers lace, rings brushing in a soft metallic kiss. Matching tattoos mark our bond—L&D linked together like a strand of spider silk. Always hers. Always mine.
We didn’t drag out the engagement or stage some production. Kept it true to us. A small and intimate ceremony last month, in her parents’ backyard where it all began.
Maurice and Belinda walked her across the lawn to me.
I’m not too proud to admit there were tears in my eyes watching my bride.
She wore a strapless champagne gown that hugged her soft curves before spilling into a small train that trailed the grass, while the front hem floated around her bare feet.
The weather was perfect, sunlight gilding her in gold. Her locs in a loose tumble, a delicate chain resting across her forehead. That Lot smile I adore, tickling the corner of her lips as she reached me.
“Hey, Jones.”
“Hey, Web.”
Rayne stood beside her in a mocha dress.
C was at my side as best man, Damon next to him, standing proudly, both in tan linen like me.
Queenie strutted regally up to Lot, refusing to stay on the sidelines—snatching cute points in a glittery collar that matched Lot’s headdress.
Hayden and his wife flew in. No fake reconciliations.
No miracle father-son moment. Just small inroads. Still finding a place that fits.
Since exchanging vows, life’s been good. Natural. Ours.
Last night was the biggest set of my career.
DJ Fest lit up like nothing I’ve ever seen.
Thousands chanting my name, bass rattling the pier, and all I could think about was finding Lot in the crowd.
Her hands raised high, screaming louder than anybody.
She’s the reason I believed I belonged up there.
She’s the reason I’m about to partner with Soulidify’s company to bring my parties to the Big Apple.
“You sleeping?” she mumbles, lips brushing my chest.
“Naw. I’m catching my second wind.” My hand slides down to cup her ass under the sheets.
She lifts her head, eyes heavy and teasing. “Boy, I can’t get no rest. You’re insatiable.”
“Damn right. Especially now that I got a wife to corrupt.” I roll her beneath me, her laugh spilling into my mouth before it melts into a moan.
I kiss her slow, deep—the kind of kiss that says I love you without words.
My silver chain brushes her collarbone as I sink into wet heat, her nails dragging down my back like a brand.
We move together in a rhythm that feels new and eternal all at once.
Afterward, we lay tangled on the damp sheets. Queenie reappears, having kept her distance from the noisy action, and curls against Lot, staking her claim. My two queens.
“We’re hosting brunch in a few hours,” Lot murmurs. Damon, C, Lexie, and Rayne all came to town for the show. “Think we’ll make it?”
“Maybe.” I kiss the curve of her jaw, tasting sugar and midnight. “Or we just stay right here and let ’em serve themselves.”
She laughs, soft and easy, the sound wrapping around me like a favorite song.
Outside, New York hums. Inside, I’ve got my woman, my peace, my forever.