Page 44 of Love You Like That

He kissed every inch of skin he could find softly and carefully. His mouth murmured words I couldn’t fully hear butfelt everywhere. I reached up and pulled him back into me, letting my body speak where words failed. Our clothes peeled away and skin met skin.

When he finally entered me, it was slow and deep. I gasped, clinging to him, forehead pressed to his, lips barely apart. The stretch and the fullness weren’t just physical. It was emotional. It was forgiveness and mourning and rebirth all at once.

Ezra held me close as he moved inside me, his strokes deliberate and tender, matching every rise and fall of my breath. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered again, voice breaking. “I shoulda been there.”

I kissed him through my tears. “We’re together now, babe.”

We moved like we were trying to learn each other all over again. My cries weren’t from pain but rather released from finally being seen. Held. Wanted. He stayed inside me for what felt like forever, his body wrapped around mine, his mouth brushing against my skin with soft, breathy promises.

When I came, it was quiet, full-body, shaking. He held me through it, kissing my face, wiping my tears, whispering, “I gotchu.” And when he followed, burying himself inside me witha ragged gasp, his face pressed to my neck, I felt our hearts finally sync again.

Afterward, we didn’t move. He stayed wrapped around me, our bodies tangled, sweat cooling between us, the baby shifting gently inside me like even they knew something had changed.

“I don’t want perfect,” I whispered, eyes barely open. “I just want this. You. Real.”

Ezra kissed my forehead. “Then real is what it's gon' be.”

One Month Later

It h o u g h tl o v ewould be enough and just knowing Yaya was carrying my baby and that we had something real would be enough to keep everything steady. But the hard truth was love doesn’t cancel flights. It doesn’t rewrite schedules. It doesn’t stop the damn clock when everything’s moving too fast in opposite directions.

I was in the thick of shit with book panels, poetry festivals and meetings with execs who wanted me to “curate vibes” for branded campaigns. There was even a tour in the works. Isaid yes to everything, partly for the exposure but mainly to make sure I never went back to where I used to be. I refused to go back to limiting myself but in the background of every accomplishment was her.

Yaya was still back in East Hollis pregnant and exhausted. Working shifts at the hospital and counting down the weeks. I FaceTimed her every night, sent her flowers every Monday afternoon, and made it to the last two appointments by the skin of my fucking teeth. For the one coming up, though, I wasn’t making it.

I stared at the time on my phone and pinched the bridge of my nose. The meeting about this audio release I’d just left ran damn near two hours over so there I was, in my whip stuck in traffic in Midtown. I was starving and my voice was hoarse from talking all day. Plus, a nigga was tired. Bone-deep tired.

I let out a slow breath as my phone buzzed. Yaya was calling on Facetime. I ran a hand down my face as I answered knowing she was about to be upset. She was in the waiting room, face bare, locs pulled back in a low ponytail, and wearing an oversized olive hoodie. She looked tired too, but beautiful still. Always.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone clipped.

“I know I’m missing it. I’m…”

“You said you’d be here, Ezra.” Her voice cracked just slightly.

“Yaya, the meeting ran over…”

“I don’t care about your meetings right now.” Her voice sharpened. “You’ve known about this appointment for weeks.”

“I know, baby. I tried…”

“You alwaystry,” she snapped, and her voice was still soft, but her eyes were blazing. “Trying isn’t the same as showing up.”

That hit me in the chest. I opened my mouth to speak, but someone off-screen said, “Tell him to call back later. You don’t need this right now.”

My stomach sank as I recognized her Pops voice. “You brought ya parents?” I asked tightly.

“Ezra—”

“Put him on, then, since he wanna talk.”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she hissed under her breath.

Her Pops voice cut through anyway. “He either steps up or he steps back, Yavanni. There is no in-between with a baby involved.”

I clenched my jaw. “I’m already steppin’ up. You just don’t see it.”

“Because we don’t seeyou,” he shot back. “All we see is your name in lights.”