I placed my hand over Calla’s, feeling the warmth of her palm against mine. “He’s going to cry, isn’t he?”
Calla smiled, eyes soft and certain. “Oh, he’s absolutely going to cry. Big, strong James Carter Jr. is about to melt into a puddle.”
I laughed, but tears still pricked my eyes. “You think he’s ready?”
She brushed her thumb along my cheek. “He doesn’t have to be. We’ll be ready for him.”
That line stayed with me, simple but true. We would be ready, for the baby, for each other, for whatever came next.
As we got up to start the day, Calla opened her planner and started scribbling notes, already making calls, coordinating with the staff at Noire, and I just watched her, my heart full and my mind steady for the first time in weeks.
For so long, I had been afraid. Afraid to love, afraid to lose, afraid to want something as big as this. But now, standing beside Calla as sunlight poured through the windows, I finally understood what love was supposed to feel like: safe, seen, shared. We were going to tell James soon, and when we did, everything would change, and I wasn’t afraid of the change; in fact, I was excited for every new adventure the Black, Carter, Patterson clan was about to embark on.
Noire was louder than usual tonight. Laughter echoed off the black marble walls, music hummed low in the background, and the air smelled like whiskey and wood smoke. It felt good to be surrounded by my people again. Caleb, Calil, Knox, Maverick, my father, Dro, CJ, and Anthony were all there, talking, drinking, cracking jokes like we always did when life finally slowed down long enough to let us breathe.
Caleb was telling some story about Yanna dragging him to a yoga retreat, swearing he thought he was going to die, and everyone was crying laughing. For a minute, it felt like nothing in the world could touch us.
Then the bartender walked in with a small tray, setting down a black box on the counter. “Compliments of the house,” he said, nodding toward me.
I frowned a little, confused. “What’s this?”
He just smiled and walked off.
When I opened the box, everyone leaned in. Inside were cigars, thick and perfectly rolled, each wrapped with a sleek band that read, Welcome to the Dad’s Club.
The room went quiet for a second.
Knox was the first to speak, his deep voice carrying a hint of laughter. “Uh, JJ, you startin’ some new social group we don’t know about?”
Maverick leaned over, squinting at the cigars. “The Dad’s Club? What the hell does that mean?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Man, I have no idea. Maybe one of y’all are trying to tell me something.”
Caleb snorted. “Yeah, you wish. I’m done. Mine grown and gone, bro.”
The laughter picked back up, but something about it felt off, like the energy in the room had shifted slightly. I looked around, trying to piece together who might’ve pulled this. My father was grinning quietly, which was suspicious enough on its own.
“Alright,” I said, chuckling, “which one of y’all did this?”
Before anyone could answer, the lights dimmed slightly, and the music faded out. The screen behind the bar flickered to life.
Everyone turned to look.
At first, it was just static, then the grainy blur cleared, and a familiar sound filled the room. A rhythmic, steady thump.
A heartbeat.
My heartbeat picked up as the image on the screen sharpened. There it was, clear and real, an ultrasound.
I froze. My chest went tight, my throat suddenly dry.
And then, from the far side of the room, I heard a voice that made my whole world stop.
“Who’s in the Dad’s Club?”
I turned around, and there they were.
Calla and Amiyah.
