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My fingers dug into her hips as I thrust to meet her, both of us finding the same rhythm. She kissed me mid-stroke as she grinded. The intimacy was almost too much to take.

“You feel so fucking good. Shit,” I groaned, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth.

“Right there—Papa don’t stop⁠—”

My hand went down between us. I rubbed her clit until she cried out, loud enough that somebody on the street below definitely heard her.

I came with her, pulling her hips flush against mine.

We stayed together until our breathing slowed.

“Who else knows about the baby?” I asked as she eased herself off me.

“Siani of course. I debated telling you after the wedding, but she said I shouldn’t be carrying news this big until then.”

“She was right.”

“You scared?” she asked, putting on her pants.

“Of the baby? Nah.” I shook my head. “It’s this life that scares me. I don’t want none of this shit touching y’all.”

“This is only gonna make you more insane, isn’t it?”

I smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “One hundred percent.”

41 LA’BELLE EVANS

DECEMBER 2026

Wedding Day

The morning of the wedding was a blur.

I woke up in Siani’s guest room and placed a hand on my stomach.

Dez had made it his business to find the best Black obstetrician in the city. He came to the first appointment with more questions for Dr. Jacobs than I did. I had to stifle a laugh when they did the ultrasound. I was three months pregnant. It was basically the size of a bean, yet this man was acting like he was looking at a whole newborn baby.

Siani made sure I was showered and dressed by 9:30 a.m. I didn’t have morning sickness, thank God, but I couldn’t keep eggs down. She made me a fruit bowl with some oatmeal while she sipped on a mimosa.

“I’ll be sure to drink enough for you,” she said, smiling as I watched her enviously.

“Girl, fuck you,” I laughed before taking a bite of a strawberry.

At 10:00 a.m. on the dot, Destiny, my hair stylist, was braiding me down for my install in the living room.

By noon, my sew-in was styled in perfect Hollywood waves.

“Oh, it’s giving bridal,” Siani squealed, snapping her fingers as I took the mirror from Destiny.

“Yes, ma’am!” I nodded approvingly. “I love it!”

“You better, because I don’t have time to change it,” Destiny said. She put some pins in to hold the hair in place and gave Siani instructions on how to take them out later so the hair would fall properly.

By 1:30 p.m., we were in a black car and heading to the wedding venue in Brooklyn.

Lorelei met us out front and took us to the bridal suite.

“I picked up your dress from the seamstress this morning,” she said over her shoulder. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a cream silk blouse. Her locs were pinned up in bantu knots, her Christian Louboutins clicking across the tiled floor. “And the venue set up is ahead of schedule, thank God.”