Page 38 of ‘Til I Say When

“ I ’m about to log on, babe.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” I rushed into the living room and took our nine day old son, Wylder from him.

I had been in the kitchen cooking dinner while Wilde fed our son.

But he had a Zoom interview with a book blogger for his newly released book.

Wilde had written four books, and the most recent was a number one best seller on the Amazon urban fiction charts.

I was so proud of him and all that he was accomplishing.

Each month, his royalty checks got bigger and bigger, and he was saving them for a down payment on our dream home.

My garage was doing so good that I had to hire more people and move to a bigger location.

I stopped working two weeks before I gave birth, and I wasn’t going back to work until Wylder was three months old.

We got Willow two to three days a week and alternated weekends.

The growth in Wilde had been amazing. There were times that him and his friends went to a lounge or a bar, but he hadn’t been to a club in about six months.

The business that he had with Pierre was thriving.

He had six employees and three trucks. When he wasn’t working or writing, he was at home with me and the kids.

Pierre had been in prison for three months.

One night, Nina didn’t have the kids, so she had company over.

Pierre was drunk and attempted to kick her door in.

The police were called, and he had a gun and weed in the car.

He ended up being sentenced to twenty-six months in prison.

Nina had moved on, was in a new relationship, and was happier than ever.

Her and Pierre were officially divorced, and she said she would never go back.

KoKo and I were still in a good place. AJ was out of prison, and they were back together.

As far as I knew, she was happy, and I loved that for her.

I sat on the couch out of the view of the camera and rocked Wylder to sleep while I listened to Wilde’s interview.

The interview lasted for thirty-five minutes, and I probably smiled the entire time.

I would never stop telling Wilde how proud of him I was.

His mother was still on the transplant list but she’d adopted a much healthier lifestyle, took medication, and remained alcohol free, and she was doing much better.

When the interview was done, I stood up and placed Wylder in his swing. “We can’t have sex, but my mouth still works and watching you do that interview turned me on,” I sat on his lap.

Wilde grinned. “Say the fuck less.”

And less was said.

The end!!