“I’m not going nowhere.” I smiled. “Not when it’s hard. Not when it’s quiet. Not when it’s messy.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you gotta be strong all the time,” she said softly.
“I don’t,” I replied. “Not with you. You taught me that I don’t have to be.”
Outside, the world went on and buzzed by without a care about our little moment. But inside, everything was still.
The world could go with all its different trends.
The numbers could spike again.
The stage could call my name again.
But none of it felt bigger than what mattered at that moment. Nothing compared to the love we shared together.
To start over didn’t mean losing ground.
It was to choose it.
It had always been to choose it.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER . . .
My vision was blurry from the tears that stung in my eyes.Rows upon rows of graduation caps bobbed above a sea of blue robes that filled the auditorium.
I blinked rapidly and rubbed at my face, praying that no one noticed. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I glanced over to my right.Princess was giving me a look with her laughing eyes and a knowing smile.
“You crying?” she mouthed quietly.
“No,” I shot out. “That big-ass rock on your finger is just blinding me.”
She raised her hand slowly and waved it in my face. “Oh, it’s my ring blinding you and not that your daughter is eighteen and about to graduate? Yeah, okay.You’re so funny.”
“I’m serious, baby.That thing got its own damn spotlight. You taking all the attention away from the kids. It’s supposed to be their day!” I teased.
She chuckled.Then her expression softened.“But seriously, . . . you good?”
I sat back in my seat with my eyes glued to the stage. Three years ago, I didn’t even know I had a daughter. Three years ago, I was just Westside Zay, a famous rapper with songs on the chartsand years of platinum plaques that lined my walls. People had to put some respect on my name when they mentioned me.That day, I sat there fighting back emotion at my daughter’s cap and gown.
No way was I ready for her to graduate.No way could I believe that I almost missed her whole life.But there she was, front and center, proudly ready to walk across that stage as if she had known who she was since the day she was born.
“I’m good,” I finally said.“Just proud.”
We both looked down at the tiny bundle that sat in front of us when we heard the slightest noise.
Princess leaned over into our son’s seat.“Shh, baby.” She cooed as she picked our son up into her arms and rocked him side to side.
Our son.
I still couldn’t say those words without smiling.
I leaned toward her and smiled widely.“My son got something to say.Let him say it.”
She rolled her eyes at me.“It’s quiet in here right now.At least wait until everybody else starts cheering.”
I peered at him wrapped in his blanket in her arms, his little fists pressed against her chest.
