Page 308 of Invisible Bars

Later that night, it was just me, Imanio, and our newest addition—our son, nestled peacefully in my arms. The soft hum of the quietness wrapped around us, with only the sound of gentle breathing breaking the stillness. Everyone else was asleep, lost in their dreams, while we soaked in this beautiful moment.

I leaned back into the pillows and watched the rise and fall of our son’s tiny chest. His little belly was full and round from the breastmilk. His tiny fists were balled up tightly, and his lips were pursed in his sleep, as if he had important business to tend to in his dreams—a touch of humor in his innocent repose.

Imanio sat quietly beside me, a steady presence, watching with a look of wonder that mirrored my own disbelief. The kind of peace we were experiencing felt earned, a hard-won victory against the odds.

Then, just as the room returned to its soft tranquility, a small, fragile sound bubbled out of me—unexpected and vulnerable.

“Somebody tell the baby I ain’t done healing yet!” I said, half joking, half serious.

I braced myself for our son’s reaction, expecting him to flinch at the loudness of my voice, but he simply smiled in his sleep. That simple act made my heart swell with happiness.

Imanio reached out gently, brushing a stray curl away from my face.

“He’s used to you already.”

I felt the familiar swell of tears behind my eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Who would’ve ever thought that me getting k-kidnapped would lead to this?” I murmured, a mixture of incredulity and gratitude woven into my words.

“Damn sure not me,” Imanio commented with a crooked grin. “Truth be told, I just needed you quiet ‘cause you saw too much. Now look at me—changing diapers with the witness.”

“Our l-love proves that God has a sense of humor… pairing a killer with his witness.”

“Yeah… well,mostwitnesses get silenced. You the only one who turned a life sentence into a love sentence.”

I tilted my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “Guess I’m evidence you couldn’t throw away.”

Imanio chuckled low. Then, with a tender gesture, he dropped his forehead to mine, his hand gently tracing small, warm circles over my stomach.

“Best evidence I ever kept.”

My heart fluttered at the intimacy of the moment.

“Seriously, I prayed forthis… even when I didn’t believe it could happen… especially with someone like you,” I confessed.

“Funny thing is…I never prayed for much before you. But somehow, God still answered a prayer I didn’t know how to make, and he gave me you. We built something real, baby; something that can’t be undone. I love you, Naji,” Imanio expressed, his voice low and filled with sincerity as he leaned in to kiss me—slow, sweet, full of memory and promise.

“I love you more,” I whispered, a smile breaking on my lips.

I then looked up toward the ceiling, as if the heavens themselves might be listening to our exchange.

There was a time when simply going outside felt like an insurmountable challenge, a time when I couldn’t bear to look at my own reflection because of the anger and pain etched into my features and a time my body, with its every tic, twitch, and outburst, had felt like a traitor, and I truly believed thatno one could love someone as broken as me. I had lived through everything people said would ruin me—trauma, fear, uncertainty—and somehow, against all odds, I still found myself holding evidence of love, pure joy and resilience in my arms.

Sometimes, the story doesn’t begin with love; sometimes it starts with survival, and against all odds, it still ends in forever.