Page 23

I t had been two weeks since Donta’s funeral, and the weight of it still hung heavy in the air. The service had been beautiful—decked out in powder blue, his favorite color, with everyone dressed to match. It was a sad day, but I’d done everything I could to be there for Dream and her family. Since then, I’d been making sure she had what she needed, whether that was space, company, or just knowing I was a call away.

She’d officially stopped working, something I’d been pushing her to do. Now, her days were spent at home, curled up with books she hadn’t had time to read or binge-watching shows she’d missed while being busy with clients. I could tell it was still hard for her, but she was holding up better than I expected.

I walked up to her door, holding Donshay in one arm and a diaper bag slung over the other. My mom had handed him over to me this morning with a knowing smirk, saying it was time for me to start getting used to fatherhood. It was his first day with me solo, and I was already wondering what I’d signed up for.

When Dream opened the door, her face lit up. “Hey, Daddy,” she teased, reaching for the baby. I was glad she was fond of children and comfortable enough to reach for him.

I chuckled, stepping inside. “Hey. First day on the job, and I already have no idea what I’m doing,” I admitted. “Ma changed him before we left, and I’m just praying he doesn’t hit me with a number two.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she took Donshay from my arms. “Well, you don’t have to worry because I’ve got him. I need something to keep my mind off Donta anyway.”

Her words hit me, but she smiled as she said it, her strength shining through the pain.

“I went to his grave this morning,” she added as we walked to the kitchen. “I put more flowers on it. Looks like a damn flower shop now.”

I smiled, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring myself some water from the refrigerator.

“You seem like a natural already,” I said, watching as she gave Donshay his pacifier and settled him into her arms like a mother would.

“I used to take care of Donta like this, so it’s natural.” She looked down at him.

“I’m ready to change his name,” I said, leaning against the counter. “To Donta like I told you in Turks. But… if you want to save the name for your future unborn son, we don’t have to.”

She looked up at me, her eyes soft. “No,” she said, a small smile spreading across her face. “We can give Donshay Donta’s name. If we have a son, I’d want him to be your junior.”

Her words settled over me like a calm I hadn’t felt in a long time. “That’s perfect,” I said, my voice low.

I hesitated for a moment before saying what I was going to ask next, swirling the water in my glass.

“I know it’s too soon,” I started, meeting her gaze. “And I don’t want to force anything on you or change your world, even though we’re about to get married. But… do you want to be listed as his mother? That way, whoever she is, she can’t come back into his life and try to stir up anything. I can make anything happen with his birth certificate. It would be official.”

Her eyes softened, and she looked down at Donshay, her hand lightly brushing over his tiny face. “I’d love that,” she said. “I love everything that comes with being in your world, including him. I’m getting closer to forty years old than anything, and I want to start living like it. We can raise him as ours.”

Hearing her say that did something to me. I had a child out of the blue, and I don’t even know who the mother is, and she was willing to help me raise him. She deserved everything good that was going to her, and I wanted her to know that. I set my glass down and walked over to her, making her stand up with the baby still in her arms. I wrapped them both in a hug, holding her close.

“I’m so happy God brought you into my life,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

She smiled up at me, and I could see the warmth in her eyes.

“And I want to move into your house with you,” I added. “We don’t have to change a thing if you don’t want to. I’ll pay off the house, and you won’t have to worry about a single bill.”

Her smile grew, but before she could say anything, Donshay let out a small whine, squirming in her arms.

“Looks like our adult moments are going to come to an end,” I said, smirking.

She laughed, bouncing him gently. “I guess so.”

We moved to the living room, settling on the couch with Donshay between us, laying on his fleece cover. I’d arranged for my chef to cook us an early dinner, something simple but good. Dream had been cooking for me for the last week to keep her mind off things, but I wanted her to rest and not lift a finger. She deserved that.

The chef arrived shortly after, filling the house with the smell of garlic and spices, making us seafood pasta and garlic bread made from scratch. Dream fed Donshay a bottle while I listened to her talk about decorating one of her empty rooms for him.

“I’ll take him back to my mom after dinner,” I said, glancing at her.

“I’d say leave him with me, but I still need time. I want him to be comfortable here.”

He nodded, his voice understanding. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be ready when you are.”

The moment was perfect, but as we sat there, a faint unease crept into the back of my mind. It was subtle, a feeling I couldn’t quite shake like the air shifting before a storm.

I glanced at the sliding glass doors, the curtains swaying slightly from the AC. Outside, the world was quiet, but it felt too quiet and too peaceful—like something was lurking just out of sight.

Dream noticed my gaze and tilted her head. “You okay?”

I forced a smirk, leaning forward to kiss her temple. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired, that’s all.”

But as I sat back, slightly lying on the couch, I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that the peace we were holding onto was about to be tested. I didn’t know when or how, but I’d learned to trust my instincts.

And my instincts were telling me that danger was on the way.

For now, though, I let myself enjoy the moment—the smell of dinner in the air, the sound of Dream’s soft laughter, and the sight of Donshay cradled in her arms. Because whatever was coming, I’d face it head-on.

I always do.