Bouncing my eyebrows, I reached over and placed my hand in his lap. “You.”
“Ever since you got pregnant, bae, you been overly freaked out. I ain’t mad at it though,” he chuckled, grabbing my hand and placing soft kisses to the back of it. “But for real. I gotta feed my daughter, so what you want? You want me to cook, or you wanna do take-out?”
I pouted but not because I was mad. “See? That right there is how I know you’re going to be an amazing father. She’s not even here yet, and you still tryna make sure she’s getting what she needs while she’s in here,” I touched my belly.
“Of course. That’s my baby, and you my baby, so Ima take care of both of y’all. Figure out what you want by the time we get to the front door.”
Sucking my teeth and laughing, I watched him as he hopped out then came to my side to help me out as well. “Chinese,” I told him.
“You gon’ have our baby coming out looking Asian as fuck. You always want Chinese, ma.”
“It’s not my fault Chinese is always good,” I snickered as we walked inside, but I paused before we walked further. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I know my dad’s comment really bothered you and—”
“Oh, nah, we straight,” he kissed my forehead. “We talked in-depth while we were out on the deck, and I know where he’s coming from. But he also knows where I’m coming from now, so I think we seeing each other in a whole new light.”
Cupping his face, I lightly brushed my thumb back and forth. “The old you would’ve flown across that table.”
“The new me would’ve too,” he grinned. “I just respect you too much to still be doing dickhead shit.”
“I love you, Mr. Chambers.”
“I love you more, Mrs. Chambers.”
We shared in a passionate kiss, and I felt like it was sealing in all the healing and love we had while keeping out all of the negativity. Our story wasn’t pretty by far. When people talk about going through ups and downs, nah, wereallywent through the trenches. I’m talkin’ ‘bout to hell and back, literally, but somehow our relationship survived the fire. And to a lot of people, the shit probably didn’t make sense but that’s okay. It didn’t have to make sense to no one but me and my man.
We’d come so fuckin’ far, and in a world that was trying to break us, we stood stronger than ever. The road ahead of us was long, and that was okay, I ran track in high school. Xy was a football player. We were built for this shit. The hard and softdays, the messy and healing parts, shit, the Chambers were built forforever. Point, blank, period.
Xyleek’s Epilogue
One Year Later
“Really, Xyleek?” My therapist, Gordon, looked at me in disbelief.
Placing my daughter, Promise’s, car seat on the couch, I shrugged. “What?”
He blinked slowly as if I had brought a damn lion or something in his office instead of my healthy, nine-month-old child, who was happily kicking her feet in her car seat. I already knew she was trying to kick her damn socks off. Promisehatedhaving socks on, but instead of crying about it, she figured out how to get them off every single time. That was my baby!
“You brought your daughter with you to your therapy session?”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it, doc?” I unstrapped her, and the second I was holding her in my arms, she grabbed a fistful of my beard.
Her latest obsession had been with her hands and mouth, specifically grabbing things and putting them in her mouth. We could see two little teeth trying to break through her gums at the bottom, so we knew she was teething. Nothing within Promise’s reach was safe. Hide ya keys, hide ya phones, because if shecould pick it up, it was going straight into her mouth for her to gnaw on.
“Her mom has a VIP client, and when my wife has clients, she can’t be in mommy mode, feel me? Her grandparents are out of the country, and her aunties are busy. Her uncle doesn’t believe in babysitting alone, and that’s the only people I trust with her, so here we are,” I explained, something I had become really good at.
Before, explaining myself seemed like the dumbest idea. I’m Xyleek muthafuckin’ Chambers, that’sself-explanatory. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and explain it to who, for what? Since starting therapy six months ago, I’d come to realize what taking accountability truly looked like. It looked like explaining and checking myself and slowing down just enough to think before I reacted. Hiding behind thethat’s just how I ambullshit was lame as fuck, and I had to man up in ways I hadn’t manned up before. Not just for me, but for my wife and my daughter.
He nodded slowly. “I see. You could’ve rescheduled, Xyleek.”
“Why would I do that?” I tried to take my chain out of P’s mouth, but her grip was crazy strong.
“I don’t really think therapy is the place for infants.”
“Nah, P is a good baby. You won’t even know she’s here,” I lied, successfully removing the diamonds from her drooly mouth and setting her on the couch.
