“I’ve had miscarriages. I had Royal early. We had months of uncertainty, not knowing if he would live. We’ve had so many scares. I’m so scared that any of that will happen again. I can’t take it if it does.”
Icon’s jaw flexed, but he stayed quiet, as if he was thinking.
I looked up at him. “Does that disappoint you?”
His eyes held mine. “No. You have always been enough. I love our son. You know I do. But you have always been enough.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead, and my whole body loosened.
I loved Icon so much because he loved me so well. He loved me in the day-to-day, in the way he watched me, in the way he made space for my fear without making me feel weak, and in the way he protected my peace as much as he protected our family. He was the perfect husband in the ways that mattered. He was consistent. He was patient. He was present. He made me feel chosen every day, not just claimed. Sometimes I still could not believe I was married to him. It did not always feel real that a man like Icon existed and that he was mine.
I turned my head slightly, breathing through the emotions and appreciation, then my eyes drifted across the table. Sincere sat a few seats down, next to Rhythm. Sincere kept her close without making it obvious. His hand touched the back of her chair. He angled his body toward her even while he was listening to everyone else. He checked her face for food residue the way you checked on someone you cared about.
I noticed his eyes most. Sincere looked at Rhythm with patience, interest, and a softness I had not seen on him since Tempo.
Icon followed my gaze. “What you looking at?”
I leaned in. “Sincere is feeling Rhythm.”
Icon’s eyes narrowed. “How you know?”
“Because I recognize it. He’s looking at her the same way you looked at me when you knew I was the one.”
Icon glanced back at them. “Damn.”
Men like him didn’t look at women like that unless it was serious, and the way his attention stayed on Rhythm felt… familiar. It felt like the start of something.
8
SINCERE BELLAMY
After dinner, drinks kept getting refilled. Somebody lit up a blunt in the cigar room. The women took over the karaoke machine, singing off-key and laughing too hard at themselves. The guys posted up in a corner talking about sports, money, and business.
Then Saint and Reek got drunk enough to grab the mic. They started rapping every trap song they knew, screaming lyrics like they were at a concert. Everybody was crying laughing.
The kids ran themselves into exhaustion. One by one they fell asleep wherever they landed. By the time midnight crept up, the house was slowly getting quieter.
That’s when I noticed Rhythm’s eyes were heavier now. I liked how she fit in with such ease. How easygoing she was. She was just… cool. She was a breath of fresh air. And without meaning to, I felt possessive in a natural way.
As we sat side by side, she sighed softly. “I need to call my Uber before I end up having to carry both of them upstairs.”
KJ was slumped on the couch, eyes barely open. Kinsley was already out.
I shook my head. “That Uber is going to be stupid expensive. I’ll take you home. I’m passing your way anyway.”
She looked at me like she wanted to argue. She opened her mouth, then closed it when I gave her a look that said I wasn’t asking.
I stood, telling the room, “Alright, I’m about to bounce. I’m taking Rhythm home.”
A few heads turned. A few knowing looks got exchanged. I felt them, ignored them, and helped her gather the kids.
Outside, the November air hit my face and woke me up a bit.
Rhythm secured Kinsley’s car seat, strapped her in, then helped KJ into the back.
As we pulled off, Rhythm exhaled with a smile. “I had such a good time. I’m so grateful God put me in Aria’s path. Watching her makes me want more. Not just more money but more out of life and more for my kids.”
I nodded, listening, but it was hard to focus. She was too beautiful. I watched her lips move as she spoke, watched the way they curved around words, watched how her voice changed when she talked about her kids. I had been trying to ignore this urge since the day I met her.
I couldn’t anymore.
