Page 57

“I did it because I love you,” she told him. “And because I saw you working so hard to build something for everybody else, but you never left space for someone to catch you if you fell. So I stepped in. That’s what we do, right?”

Anthony cleared his throat, nodding slowly. “That’s real love. The kind that don’t fold just ’cause shit get hard.”

Gran Betty added, “You don’t let someone love you like that and walk away the same.”

Qamar leaned against the patio rail, eyes on the horizon. “You picked a woman who’s gon’ guard your legacy and your body. That’s rare…protect her.”

Malik looked like he was still trying to process it all.

He rubbed the space above his brow, then let his hand drop to his lap.

The weight of their words pressed into him, not heavy but anchoring.

He wasn’t used to being spoken about with that kind of care, that kind of reverence.

He wasn’t used to being loved like this and still standing afterward.

Most love he’d known came with bruises or silence.

His parents loved him to the best of their ability, but it was rooted in that hood love.

But this…this was soft and firm in all the right ways.

It made room for him to be brilliant and broken.

“You good?” Aku asked, hand resting gently on his thigh.

He nodded. “I just…I ain’t never had nobody ride like that... Not outside of my family.”

“You do now.”

His eyes burned, but he blinked fast. He wouldn’t cry, not in front of all these people. “I used to think I was only good for survival,” he said, quietly. “I didn’t think I’d ever know peace. Then you came in and made it feel regular.”

“You deserve peace,” Solar said from the steps, “so do all our sons.”

Myesa smiled at her, “and our daughters.”

There was something holy about the silence that followed. Not the church kind, but the real kind—the kind built on survival, on joy, on Black love that knew how to endure.

It wasn’t just about healing from a shooting.

It was about what came after.

How you rebuild…How you stay free…How you stand when the world tried to bury you.

Malik breathed in deep, chest rising more than it had since the shooting. “Thank you,” he said to Aku. “For everything.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me,” she whispered back. “We a team.”

Aku reached for his hand again and held it against her stomach.

“I told you I clicked my heels,” she whispered, “we home.”

“Where my baby at?” Aku’s Granny Stephanie rushed onto the patio.

Qamar cocked his head to the side. “Ma, where you been all this time?”

“Chile, you know me and my man be around the world,” Stephanie said, making everyone laugh. “Now catch me up and somebody need to tell me how my baby got a baby in her belly.”

“Sit down, woman,” Griff, her husband fussed with his own plate of watermelon.

The doctor’s office smelled like clean air and old magazines.

The paper on the table crinkled under Aku’s weight as she climbed up with a little wince.

Malik sat beside her, hunched and holding his side where the pain still came in waves.

Six weeks wasn’t enough time to heal a through-and-through to the chest, but he wasn’t missing this appointment for nothing.

Not when it was about them.

Aku sat beside him with her feet swinging gently above the floor. Her dress was hugging her bump now, small but real—a reminder that she was really about to be someone’s mama. She held her phone in both hands, thumbs hovering over the screen, but she wasn’t texting nobody…just staring, thinking.

“You good?” Malik asked.

Her eyes were soft when she looked over at him. “Yea, just nervous.”

“’Bout the baby?”

She nodded, then reached over and touched his hand. “And you.”

Malik tried to hide the way his body reacted to her touch. His fingers were still stiff some days. His shoulder still ached, but her hand in his steadied everything.

“I’m cool,” he said. “You sure you good? You haven’t stopped moving since we got here.”

“I’m fine.” She leaned her head on his shoulder for a second, then laughed under her breath. “You the one who look like you think somebody gon’ jump out this room and try to finish the job.”

Malik smirked. “Ain’t shit funny.”

“You eyeing the emergency exit like you might have to duck and roll. This a doctor’s office, not a shootout.”

He chuckled, coughed once, then winced. “Damn, baby.”

“See?” she laughed. “God punishing you for tryna be serious.”

Malik shook his head, then rubbed his hand across his face. “Nah. I just…I’m tryna be chill, but this feel big.”

She looked at him. “It is big.”

“I ain’t never sat in no room like this before, not for anything like this, not with anybody.”

Aku laced her fingers with his. “Me neither, but we here now.”

He leaned his head back, eyes staring up at the soft ceiling tiles. “You think they gon’ be okay? The baby? I mean…”

She turned to face him fully. “They will be. You wanna know why?”

He looked at her, waiting to see what magic would come from her lips today.

“’Cause they got you…and me…and we already survived hell, so they gon’ walk through heaven without even tryin’.”

Malik blinked, a lump catching in his throat. “I don’t even know how to be a dad, Aku.”

“You didn’t know how to fall in love either,” she said, “but you figured it out.”

He looked at her like she was the whole reason the world still spun.

Then her name got called.

“Aku Banner?”

Aku grinned as she stood up, pulling Malik up with her. “Come on, baby daddy.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Don’t start that loud talk in front of these nurses. They gon’ think I’m toxic.”

“Please,” she whispered as they walked down the hallway, “you are toxic. I just detoxed you with love and good pussy.”

Malik laughed again, hand to his chest. “Stop, for real.”

Inside the exam room, she got up on the table slowly, holding her dress up as the nurse laid out the sheet and prepped the machine.

“You want water or anything?” she asked him.

“I’m good.”

“You look like you in pain.”

He shrugged. “I’m always in pain. But this is worth it.”

The nurse smiled politely, did her checks, and left them alone for a few minutes while they waited on the doctor.

Malik scooted his chair closer to her, reached up and rubbed a hand over her knee. “You been holding me down,” he said.

“I’m supposed to.”

“I don’t take that shit for granted.”

She looked at him, lips twitching. “You better not. I carried your big ass through a jet hangar, cried over you, fought my daddy and the streets for you. You mine now.”

“I been yours,” he murmured. “Just didn’t know how to say it out loud.”

He tapped his thumb against his leg.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just tryna figure out why he ain’t came in here yet.”

“He’s a doctor, not a stripper,” she said, biting back a laugh.

Malik snorted—and instantly regretted it. A hard cough shook his chest and he doubled over, groaning. “Shit—ow, fuck—damn,” he hissed, clutching his side.

“Oh my God, I didn’t mean to actually hurt you,” Aku said, half laughing, half panicking. “You okay?”

He waved her off, still coughing, but there was a smile twitching on his lips. “You always tryna kill me. First your daddy, now your jokes.”

Aku grinned. “You survived Crescent Park...I believe in you.”

The door opened again, and the doctor finally walked in—tall, bald, brown-skinned with calm eyes and a warm grin.

“Sorry for the wait,” he said. “I’m Dr. Gaines. You must be Malik.”

Malik gave a tight nod, trying not to grimace as he shifted in his chair. He clocked the man’s energy, calm but commanding. A real one - he could tell.

Dr. Gaines washed his hands, looked over the chart, then turned toward them. “Today’s a big day,” he said. “You two ready?”

Malik nodded, swallowing the amount of pain he was in.

“Lay back for me,” the doctor told Aku. “Gel’s a little cold, but I’ll be quick.”

Aku hissed at the cold sensation.

The moment the screen lit up, the room got quiet.

Malik leaned forward, his hand resting on his legs. The heartbeat came fast and clear.

Dr. Gaines paused, adjusted the wand.

“There we go,” he said. “So, right here…is Baby A, and this…” He moved the wand slightly. A second flicker. “…is Baby B.”

Aku’s smiled so big, she knew already…just wanted to wait for Malik to know before she told everyone else. “Two!”

Malik stared. His jaw dropped open. “You serious, cuh?”

Aku snickered at her hood nigga.

Dr. Gaines chuckled. “Very.”

He backed the wand up so both babies could be seen at once—two tiny beings, moving gently on the screen.

Malik leaned forward more, then he just broke. His head dropped onto Aku’s belly and his shoulders shook. “My babies,” he whispered. “My fuckin’ babies…”

She put her hand on the back of his neck, stroking slowly. “You really gon’ be a daddy,” she said, smiling through tears.

The doctor gave them some space, nodding and stepping out of the room.

Malik sat back in the chair, wiping his eyes before taking a deep breath.

“I’m mad I can’t get down on one knee like I’m supposed to,” he said, voice thick and broken. “But Dorothy…Aku…” He looked up at her, everything he felt sitting right there in his throat. “Will you?—”

“Yes,” she whispered, cutting him off before the rest even came out.

Her hands cupped his face. His eyes spilled again.

“I never said you had to build the fairytale by yourself,” she hummed. “We gon’ do it together.”

He leaned in, forehead to hers. “You gave me everything I ain’t even know I needed.”

“And now you’re stuck with me,” she said, smiling.

“Forever,” he whispered. “Me, you, Baby A and B.”

They kissed softly, with the ultrasound screen still glowing beside them—two heartbeats floating steady in the dark. This what dreams were made of—where legacy started to personify. This made their journey worth it—the fall magical.