Page 53 of Love You Like That

I sat down beside the bed, cradling our son gently, holding him so close I thought I’d never let go. I kissed his forehead and leaned my head down to Yaya’s. “You don’t know how long I been waitin’ to meet you, Elijah,” I whispered to him.

Yaya reached for me, and I passed the baby to her, watching as she cradled him with a tenderness that made my damn chest ache. Elijah settled in her arms like he knew that he belonged there. “He looks just like you,” Yaya said, voice thick with emotion. “This is crazy.”

“Thank God he got ya eyes, though,” I whispered and she chuckled.

Later, when we settled into our room, Elijah was resting in the bassinet beside us while Yaya was curled against me in the hospital bed. I looked down at her, her head resting on my chest. “I didn’t think I could love you more than I already did,” I said quietly, rubbing her shoulder. “But watchin’ you bring my son into this world… Yaya, you’re fuckin’ everything.”

She lifted her eyes to mine, tired but glowing. “You stayed.That’severything.”

I kissed her slowly and watched as she drifted off to sleep with my mind traveling back to the third night I saw her. The open mic night. Back when this was just a spark I didn’t have a name for yet. Back when she sat in the back with her girls, sipping wine and glowing under the dim lights. Her brown skin caught the soft gold like she was meant to be worshipped. Her locs were tied up, big bamboo earrings swinging when she laughed, and a dress that hugged her body so perfectly I almost forgot half the lines I was about to spit.

I’d gone on stage and said everything but her name that night because I didn’t know it yet. And when it was over, after the snaps and daps and drinks, I couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t let her walk away again. Not when the universe had already shown me her three different times in that same damn lounge.

I had no idea back then that the same woman would one day be curled into my chest with our son sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside us. I’d made a name for myself worldwide damn near, signed a deal, performed at sold-out shows, and had my voice playing on radio stations I grew up listening to. But none of that touched this shit. None of it touched her.

I looked down at Yaya, who was lightly snoring on my chest now and I felt it. All of it. The poetic beginning, the disappointments, the arguments, the walking away and coming back. I felt the chaos, the missed calls, the pride, and the pain. But fuck all that, I felt the love. The kind that doesn’t just write poems but rewrites lives.

I wasn’t a lost poet anymore. I was a nigga who followed the rhythm of his heart and finally landed on a love that never stopped humming underneath it all. This wasn’t just poetry. This was home.

Is t a r e da tmy reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me. Not because I didn’t look like myself because I did. I was still Yavanni. Still the girl with deep roots, deep feelings, and an even deeper purpose. But today… I glowed differently.

My locs were swept into an elegant updo, a gold threaded scarf woven through the crown like a halo. My earrings were bold and thick, gold, carved with the Adinkra symbol for endurance. My dress was a custom off-the-shoulder ivorysilk with hand-sewn Ankara details cascading down one side, trailing like a story.

I pressed a hand to my chest and let the moment land. This was really happening. I was about to marry Ezra and I was doing it as someone who had been stretched, broken, rebuilt, and reborn into this moment.

The last six months moved fast. A blur of change and growth. Motherhood had cracked something open inside of me I didn’t know existed. I’d stared at Elijah’s tiny fingers in the middle of sleepless nights and felt a love that made my bones ache. I’d nursed through exhaustion, rocked him through fevers, laughed with him belly-to-belly on our living room rug, and cried over the smallness and bigness of it all.

And Ezra? He was all in. Late nights and early mornings, diaper changes, and doctor visits. He’d hold Elijah on his chest and recite poems until he fell asleep. Sometimes, Ezra would sneak him into the hospital parking lot during a long shift, just so I could kiss his forehead. Then, one night in the parking lot, he dropped down on one knee and officially proposed with the most beautiful pear shaped diamond ring.

He said, “Let’s build forever, Yaya.”

I moved to New York a month later and accepted an offer from a renowned hospital that had been pursuing me since I graduated. The job was demanding but meaningful and Ezra’s world of performances and touring moved in rhythm with my schedule. It wasn’t perfect, though.

Some days, we passed each other like ships in the night. Some mornings, our only words were “I got the bottle” or “Mom’s picking him up at noon.” But there was always love. Always laughter. Always a reason to slow down and find each other again. Our life was beautiful chaos and it was ours.

I took one last look in the mirror and exhaled, full of nerves and gratitude. Then, a knock came at the door and interrupted my thoughts.

“Can we come in? We brought tissue.” Dianna’s voice came, slightly high-pitched with emotion.

I laughed, wiping under my eyes as I turned toward the door. “Yeah. Come oi.”

The door opened and she walked in with Erin. Both of them were already glossy-eyed, dressed in matching bronze silk, each holding a bouquet and an emotional mess on their faces.

“Girl, you look like a damn goddess,” Erin said, fanning her eyes.

Dianna sniffled. “I’m not gonna make it. I told myself I wouldn’t cry until the vows but damn, sis, look at you.”

I smiled so hard it hurt. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

They surrounded me, fussing over my dress, fixing the edge of my scarf and hugging me like I was about to float away. We laughed, cried a little, hugged some more. Then another knock came and we all turned.

“Yavanni,” my father’s voice said softly from the other side. “It’s time.” The girls stepped back. I took one more breath, smoothing my hands down my hips, and opened the door. My father stood in a tailored cream suit, his salt-and-pepper beard freshly trimmed, eyes glassy behind his glasses. He stared at me for a long moment, then took my hand. “You’re… wow,” he said quietly.

“Daddy…”

He squeezed my hand. “You ready?”

As Dianna and Erin left to take their places, I exhaled and nodded. “I am.”

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