When she reached me, she hugged me tight. “I am so proud of you.”
I wrapped my arms around her and held on. “Thank you.”
A year ago, I was still in the honeymoon phase of my marriage, thinking I had the kind of love that was going to last because I wanted it to. I got left, not at the altar, but in the space where you still believed in forever. It hurt because I did love Tempo. But what I had with Rhythm was different. This was real. This was the kind of love that didn’t just come in your life; it changed it.
Rhythm took my hand and squeezed it. “You okay?”
Looking down at her, I kissed her forehead, right where there was still scarring from the accident. “I’m more than okay. I’m grateful.”
She smiled. “For what?”
“For you. For your kids. For the fact that y’all are safe. For the fact that I get to build something for the Cartiers that is legit.”
Her lips parted as her eyes grew glassy. She blinked and tried to hold it back.
I lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “I didn’t know I’d earned a life this perfect.”
Rhythm leaned into me. “You earned it, baby.”
I looked back at the site one more time, then down at her. “I’m going to keep earning it. For you. For the Cartiers. For us.”
She nodded, barely able to get out, “Okay.”
I pulled her in again and held her close while the machines moved behind us and the city carried on like this was just another day.
But it wasn’t.
This was the beginning of the rest of my life.
Afterward, we had a celebratory dinner at the Cartier estate.
Everybody was still dressed from the groundbreaking in suits and dresses. The music was loud, drinks kept getting poured, and people kept laughing because they were so happy.
Rhythm sat close to me on the sectional, with one leg tucked under her. KJ was in our face, telling me what happened at his appointment earlier that day.
“I need glasses,” he said with an odd amount of happiness.
I looked at him. “Word?”
He nodded excitedly, “Uh huh! The doctor said I need them because I couldn’t read all the lines.”
Rhythm tried not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway.
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “You can wear glasses for now. Then when you get older, you can do contacts or you can get LASIK. Then you won’t have to wear the glasses anymore.”
KJ shook his head fast. “I don’t want none of that.”
“Why not?”
He pointed at my face. “Because I want glasses like you. I want to look like you.”
That hit me so hard so unexpectedly. My throat got tight, and I looked away for a second like I was checking something across the room. But I wasn’t. I just needed a second to get myself together.
“You a smart little dude,” I said, trying to keep my voice from telling on me. “My prescription is too strong for LASIK and contacts aren’t a good option for me. You don’t need glasses to be like me.”
“Yes, I do,” he argued. “Because you be looking important.”
I cleared my throat and held my hand out. “Come here.”
