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“Dame… Big brother. One half of my personal security team. I am so proud of you. To say this is a big deal would be an understatement. Ross Gold Coffee was your baby. Your dream. First, we took over online. And then stores. Even with our physical location. Now, we’re going nationwide with our own app. Sometimes, you really amaze me. Through everything we’ve witnessed you go through. The hardships, the love, the success- it was all worth it. They say sometimes you have to go through hell to get to Heaven, and well, bro, you fucking…”

She quickly looks over at my parents, both throwing her a scolding look, “I mean, freaking did it. Hehe! And I think it goes without saying that you are my hero. Congratulations, brother.”

We embrace through tears.

“I appreciate you, sis,” I say in her ear, “This wouldn’t be possible without you.”

The moment lasts a millisecond before another voice interrupts all of the mush, “Damn, what is this? The Brady Bunch?”

We both look up to see ugly ass Rayne standing behind us all, holding a small gift in his hand. He’s actually in a suit, even though he could’ve ironed his dress shirt just a little more. I’ll let it slide since he finally took me up on the offer to help run Ross Gold Cafe as the head of my coffee couriers. Whenever somebody uses the app to place an order, he ensures things run smoothly. It’s a big test of commitment and loyalty, but I’m trusting him with it.

That porn shit, however, that’s his business. I’ll leave that shit to him and Dime. The fact that he’s even in a suit without needing to be embalmed first is a blessing. He’s grinning hard, walking further into the room, first kissing Dime before hugging our parents and then Destiny.

“And what exactly took you so long, nigga?” I ask, walking up to playfully nudge him. For the first time in a long time, our roughhousing is all jokes and games. No bloodshed. At least not on purpose.

“Aye man, Wal-Mart had a long ass line,” he vents, “Can you believe they still don’t take Apple Pay? I’m standing there all damn day trying to swipe my card, thinking somebody hacked my shit. The whole time, their card servers were down. Anyway, congratulations, my brotha.”

He hands over the gift, leaning in to whisper, “You’ll wanna open that alone. It’s got some…herbs in it. You know how mom feels about smelling that shit.”

“Ahh…” I wrap an arm around his neck, “My nigga. Appreciate you, little bro. Thanks for coming.”

“Fasho,” he then pulls me to the side, “Aye, since I’ve got you for a minute. You… um…you think me and Dime could film our next video in that little room y’all…”

He’s cut off in a heartbeat.

“Hell no! Thanks for asking though.”

“Damn, aight. Well, it was worth the try, right?”

“Sure was,” My arm stretches past him, “There’s the food bar. Have at it.”

Rayne stretches his neck over to where I’m pointing, a long buffet table with various food options. Coffee samples. Cookies. Wings. Mini cakes. All kinds of shit set up by Morgan and Dime. There was no expense spared for our guests.

His eyes grow wide with hunger at the sight of it.

“Oh shit, chicken and waffle kabobs? Y’all too rich. Let me go see what it’s hitting for.”

Rayne does a mini jog to the buffet area, leaving me standing there alone for the moment to watch his goofiness play out. He’s really turned a corner, crazy as it is to believe. Guess all it really took was for the right woman to be able to withstand his antics long enough to set him straight. Dime seems to be that woman for him. Especially considering they’re both crazy as all fuck. At least this time, I’m not worried about him being stranded somewhere in his PJ’s begging for change like a panhandler.

I’m so distracted watching them, I don’t even notice Morgan sneaking up until her hand’s resting on my back.

“They’re cute, huh?” she questions, rubbing her belly. “Yeah, that’s one way of describing them.”

“Stop,” she mushes my head, “My girl’s got him. They both just needed love. Real love.” I turn my head to her, staring right into her eyes.

“Don’t we all?”

Her smile warms my entire body as memories flash of our first meeting back at the Midnight Inn. I’ll never forget how snappy I came off, only for her to throw it right back my way.

My superwoman. My fighter. She doesn’t have to be a killer. Ever. Because if anybody crosses her, they’ll already be dead before she ever has to pull a trigger. My word.

I place my right hand onto her globe-shaped stomach, feeling for my future daughter’s movements. It’s crazy to think we’re only a few months away from her arrival. Feels like time just sped by. No pressure, though. Everything’s already prepared for her. I built her crib. Our entire closet is damn near filled with baby clothes. I’ve even set up a college fund for her already.

Maybe I’m going overboard. But hell, my girl is going to be prepared for whatever. We even have a name set out already. Ebonee Royalty Ross.

“She kicked earlier. You missed it.”

“My baby’s going to be a soccer player.” She squints in confusion, “Soccer, bae?”