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I catch my mistake too late. “Uh, yeah, Lana’s pregnant.” My eyes never leave Lana, but I hear Shayla gasp and know she has a smile hidden behind it.

“Oh, bubs! This is so exciting! Oh, I’m so happy they’re okay!” She moves to behind me, putting her hand on my back as I keep focused on my woman.

“I know, me too. Hey, Trey?” I look up to him standing behind Jeffery.

“Yeah, man?”

“Can you tell Kathy thank you again for taking Prince? My phone died. Can we call and make sure he went down for the night okay?”

“Of course, and congrats, by the way, you sly motherfucker.”

Jeff grunts and me and Trey share a sideways smirk.

“Boys, have some respect in front of Daddy James,” Shayla chimes in, and Jeffery gives her a soft smile.

“Thank you, Shayla. I knew you were always my favorite.”

“Besides our girl here, I would like to think I’m a close second.” She beams, making the somberness in the room disappear, which is what my sister does best.

“True, now if only my favorite girl would wake up.”

I feel for Jeffery, he and I—all of us—have been here before, and this time is much more daunting, more traumatizing, because we weren’t there. Other people were involved, like Becky, and that shit has to be hitting him harder. His only two girls, his life. My children and my woman were in danger, and I couldn’t be there to protect them like I said I always would. And what’s worse is we don’t know who Lana is going to be when she wakes up. Will she be the timid, afraid-of-the-shadows woman who feared everything and everyone? Or is she going to stay strong and free, now that she is, in fact, free from Joel?

Hilary is another story, and that’s my fucking cross to bear. I invited the enemy in without even knowing she was on the front-lines with a pitchfork waiting to help Joel slice through my very own Achilles’ heel.

The hours pass, and everyone leaves me with my girl. The nurse came in and asked if I could lay on the couch in the room, since they prefer no one but the patient sleep in the bed. I nodded without a fight and waited for her to check on Lana. The second she cleared the room, I was back on the bed with Lana, falling asleep against my will.

“Baby?” I hear the softest angel voice calling out to me in my dreams. Lana sounds so sure, almost motherly and nurturing, as if I’m the wounded one. “Kingston, wake up.” I hear it again, and this time it sounds louder. With a soft touch of her hand, my eyes open, burning from lack of sleep, loads of stress, and hot, heavy tears.

“Queen, you’re awake.” I look into her brown eyes. The red mark on her face where Joel hit her is starting to bruise, but it shows no signs of scarring.

“I was really hot, felt like I was wrapped up in a wool blanket. Then I opened my eyes and saw I was, in fact, snuggled by a wildebeest.” She giggles, those dimples blossoming, and in that instant, I lose all train of thought, all chance of speaking.

“Kings?” She pets my face, comforting me when I should be comforting

her.

“You...you seem fine. You’re not even shaking.”

She shakes her head and her brows set in confusion.

“Talk to me, angel. Tonight was fucking madness and it’s fucking me up. Please tell me what you’re thinking.” I bring my forehead to hers and connect us, needing to feel as close as possible to her. She takes a few deep breaths, closing her eyes as she does, a tear so errant that she doesn’t want it to fall, but she can’t stop it.

Waiting a brief moment longer, she opens her eyes slowly, and the honey brown irises dilate as a whisper leaves her swollen lips. “I’m alive,” she says simply.

“You are. Fuck, baby, you are.” I kiss her lips, careful not to upset the bruise on her face. It’s gentle, our lips against each other’s, our tongues teasing and lapping at one another, healing her brand new scars and bandaging my fragile heart.

She pulls away after minutes of long, lazy kisses, and I linger in place, still feeling the spark on my lips as she settles back.

“I had to protect myself. I had to protect our children. I felt guilty at first, but now I just feel...normal. I feel like I’m drifting in wide-open water, the sun high in the sky as I chase the slow moving clouds.” She closes her eyes as if picturing what she’s describing. I keep my hand on her belly and my gaze on her. “I’m lying there, on my back, unable to see the water, but I hear it. I feel weightless, free, miles away from trouble.” Her hand finds mine, lying gently atop it and moving as I rub her stomach with small circles.

“I used to feel him here, like I knew somewhere in my body his cold heart was beating. There was always this sound that never silenced, and now it’s gone. The ringing in my ear. Everything he tainted feels reborn.” She sighs dreamily.

I don’t know what to even say. Lana killed the one man determined to kill her, the man who savagely abused her for years and left scars for a lifetime. But, in this hospital room, on this highly uncomfortable bed, talking about the end of dark times, instead of mourning or feeling consumed with guilt, she is breathing again.

“So is it you in there? Are you the same woman you woke up as this morning?” I wait on the edge of my seat for the fucking answer, because if she says no, I don’t think I will emotionally be able to hold my shit together in front of her.

“No.” She turns in on me, her eyes softening. “I’m better than that woman. I’m that little girl you met years ago. I’m the vibrant teenager who never got to flourish. I’m a mother with an abundance of love to give, and maybe one day, I’ll be the best wife.” She leans in and kisses my lips gently, and knowing there is no better moment than now—with her heart completely healed and her words of solitude—to make her that wife.

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