Page 115 of Cuffed By Your Love

Chambers cleared his throat near Jazz. “So, uh… You hungry? I was thinking we could?—”

She flicked her eyes up. “Ask me like you mean it, Chambers.”

He inhaled and squared. “I want to take you to dinner. Tonight. And tomorrow. And any other night you stop pretending you don’t miss me when I’m late.”

Silence catches, then releases, full of grins.

Jazz blinked slowly, then let the smile out. “Pick me up at eight. Don’t be late.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for a decade. “Yes, ma’am. I’m coming for you, beauty.” He walked off with a wink.

That’s what I’m talking about.

The parents corral the kids for pictures. Miss Elyse held Jolani, who was determined to demolish a candle label with her gums. EJ wrapped an arm around my leg and leaned his head into my thigh like he remembered when we were all still scared. “Mama Nay,” he said, voice small and safe.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I like your store. It smells like naps.”

I break entirely. “That’s the nicest thing anybody ever said about anything I made.”

Elias stepped behind me, both arms around—not gentle, but secure. The weight of him made my knees forgive me. “You happy?” he asked into my hair.

“Yeah. Happy in a way that scares me sometimes.”

He nodded. “Then I’ll keep standing here until the scary part gets bored.”

I think about Kam for a flicker—not a haunt, but a history. I pray his uncle finds peace. My aunt doesn’t call Mama anymore, too ashamed by what the truth did, by how loud it rang. I put that down, and I only carry what’s mine.

What’s mine was this: a man who speaks vow with his eyes, kids who giggle like oxygen, a mama and daddy who stopped holding their breath when I started laughing again, a mother-in-law who calls to say “eat,” a brother who clowns danger from the room, a sister-in-law who smells like a love letter, a twin sister in a soft marriage, a sister-in-law and friend about to fall, and a building full of rooms where Black women get to be soft on purpose.

Jason tapped a glass with a butter knife. “Final toast before I steal my wife and make her promise never to wearBooked & Beautifuloutside again.”

“Sir!” Leila bumped him with her hip, glowing in that way that meant somebody’s prayer got answered months ago and was currently sleeping under her ribs.

He grinned. “To Cuffed Glow & Order. To my sister’s stubborn joy. To a family that keeps expanding ’cause we mind our business and mind each other. And to Elias, who really the only man I ain’t threatened for talking to my sister crazy.”

Elias bowed his head like he was taking the benediction. “Appreciate you,” he said. Then he found my hand, threading our fingers.

The room swells. Someone plays Sade again. The scent of coconut sandalwood and lavender gets in my hair, my dress, my memory. And for a heartbeat that stretches out like a hammock, time slows. I only see him—Elias—and the way his pupils pin me to the floor in the sweetest arrest of my life.

“You glad you let a real one cuff you?” he murmured with a smile ghosting his mouth.

“I’m ecstatic,” I reply, eyes on his. “And I’m not making bail.”

He kissed me like the room’s a witness, and we need the record to reflect slow, sure, a seal on everything we said with our lives before we said it with our mouths. I taste lemon and safety. I feel the bass drum of his heart steady under my palm. My belly nudged between us like a co-sign.

“Alright, y’all nasty,” Jason said, throwing a napkin at us. “Kids present.”

“Shut up,” Leila said, laughing, leaning into him. “Let romance happen.”

Jazz glanced at Chambers and blushed for free. Jonell and Dre kiss like a good omen. Mama cries again, but this time, it’s apretty cry. Miss Elyse fans her with a menu. Daddy pretends not to dab.

And me? I stand in the middle of the life I prayed for out loud. I built the rooms. He set the watch. Our people filled it with laughter. My peace serves time here now, happily sentenced, no parole.

Cuffed. And glowing. Forever.

THE END