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I pull her close to me until her face is right in my chest. I then kiss the top of her head twice.

“You want to know where we’ll be in the next five to ten years, outside of hopefully being alive in the first place? We’re going to be on an entirely new island. Somewhere watching our kids run around, chasing each other in circles. You’ll be sitting there, reading your books. Sipping a Mai Tai. And I’ll be right there next to you rubbing your feet, whispering nasty shit in your ear.”

That seems to comfort her. She lifts her head to reveal a smile slowly rising again like the Sun after a bad storm. It’s amazing how quick it’s missed.

“You promise?”

“Yes. Even though your pepper breath is taking me out.”

She slaps my chest. “Ooh, don’t do that. Because your breath hasn’t been bathed in Listerine yet, either.”

We share a much needed laugh, the most peaceful sound I’ve heard since she first said I Do. “Give me a kiss, shorty.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she turns her head away, arms crossed, “I don’t want to singe your lips off with my pepper breath.”

I chuckle, turning her head back to me and sucking lips with her. We hug tightly, forgetting the world exists for a moment. I never want my baby second guessing us. It hurts knowing she had those questions lingering. I’ve never loved a woman the way I love her. She came right on time, changing how I saw romance forever. And I’d burn the whole world down if it disappoints her enough. I hold her tight enough to protect her from hurricanes, thinking over everything. Maybe it is time to start considering life outside of Ecstasy Island. At least in the long term.

Idrop wifey back off at home first before heading in the direction of the shop. I’m still heavy in thought over everything we talked about. I even try envisioning myself as a father. Holding our first child in my arms, with their little eyes peering up at me. It brings a smile to my face in traffic. I’d be a damn good father. That’s for sure. A much better father than whoever this asshole is in front of me, yelling at their child in the passenger seat instead of paying attention to the road.

I drive past them, throwing an evil look his way. I’m a block away from the shop, close enough to already smell the coffee brewing in the air from my cracked window. My phone is going crazy in my lap, vibrating like it’s malfunctioning. I pull up to the next light first and then check to see what’s going on. My notifications indicate it’s Rayne texting me. A buzz kill if there ever was one.

Rayne: Yo, we need to meet up again. NOW. McGovern Park by the bridge.

It seems serious. I don’t hesitate to swerve and drive in the opposite direction towards the park. McGovern is only a few blocks away from the shop anyway, so it’s not going out of my way by any means. I’m there in the span of a TV commercial break, pulling into the parking lot nearest to the lake. Surprisingly, there’s not many people around. Usually, it’s polluted with fishermen and kids playing basketball. It feels more like a ghost town on this day. Not to say that it's a bad thing, per se. Less people, less of a chance for bullshit.

I head over to where Rayne said he’d be posted, walking with a purpose. The strong stench of dead fish starts to fill my nose like a repugnant cologne. He’s standing on the bridge in a black shirt and grey sweats, hands in his pockets. We make eye contact once I’m at the end of the bridge. I draw close enough to stand right on the side of him, facing the water just as he’s doing.

“You remember coming here when we were kids?” he asks, still looking straight ahead.

“Yup, Pops taught us how to fish.”

“Nah, he taught you how to fish. I was too busy watching.”

“Because you were scared of the water, nigga.”

For the first time in a while, we share a small laugh together. It doesn’t last long though. Rayne turns to me with an angry look resonating on his face. The mood changes almost instantly.

“So, you told Destiny not to fuck with me anymore?”

“No, I told her not to give you her money anymore. That’s what I said. And I stand on it.”

“Fuckin’ crazy, bro. My own blood doesn’t want me to win.”

That turns my blood hot like soup.

“What? Rayne, do you hear yourself? That shit doesn’t even make sense.”

“Oh, it doesn’t? So, telling my little sister not to help me out in my time of need isn’t you stopping me from winning?”

I squint in confusion, “Nigga, winning how? That’s her money. She shouldn’t be bailing you out. See, that’s what you don’t get bro. I’ve been trying to help you win since birth. You’re the one who holds yourself back constantly. Our entire family has been trying to help you. You choose to be this nigga, Rayne. That’s on you. Not me. Hold yourself fuckin’ accountable for once.”

“Accountable,” he says after a sarcastic chuckle.

“Yeah, accountable. Sorry that you don’t know the word.” “So did you hold that Skizzy nigga accountable too?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I saw you over there at his little food truck. Drove past on my way here. You’re really sitting here being cool with the same little mothafucka who used to give our sister hell.”