Page 105 of Cuffed By Your Love
She twirled the first bite, raised it, and chewed slowly, savoring it. Her lashes lowered, and a little sigh escaped her lips. “Elias, this is amazing.”
I didn’t answer right away, just leaned back in my chair, arms folded, staring at her like I was trying to memorize how peace looked on her face.
She noticed, fork paused midair. “What’s wrong? Why are you staring at me like that?”
I shook my head, a smile pulling slowly at my mouth. “Ain’t nothing wrong. I’m just happy. Happy you’re mine. Happy you finally believe it. I’ve been waiting for this… for you to sit across from me and look like you have peace instead of panicking.”
Her lips trembled, eyes glassing. She set her fork down and whispered, “I love you.”
I leaned in, voice hushed but firm. “I love you more, baby.”
She finished her plate in quiet joy, every bite another brick laid in the house we were building out of healing.
Later, the three of us ended up in the living room. Afternoon sun stretched thin across gauzy curtains, turning the room into something softer than a painting. I sat on the floor with EJ, Marvel figures scattered like treasure, popcorn scent thick in the air.
“Did you know Spidey made his own web shooters?” Jonay asked him, showing off a Lego piece.
EJ nodded solemnly. “Uncle Peter is smart. But not as smart as you, Mama Nay.”
Jonay froze, Lego midair, eyes wide. “What did you just call me, baby?”
He looked up with an easy smile, eyes glowing. “Mama Nay.” Her throat locked, tears pricking before she could blink. Sheturned her face away, shoulders hitching once, like the love was too big to hold. EJ tugged her sleeve, worry soft on his little face. “Did I make you sad?”
She turned back quickly, cupping his cheeks with trembling hands. “No, baby. No. You made me so happy I didn’t know what to do with it. That name? That’s the best thing I’ve ever been called. Even better than Miss Pretty.”
EJ tilted his head, thoughtful. “Better than Princess of the Sanctum?”
Jonay laughed through her tears. “Way better.”
“You’re always Miss Pretty,” he said simply, “but you’re my Mama Nay too. ’Cause you’re always here for me like a real mama.”
Her arms wrapped around him fast, pulling him into her chest, face buried in his curls. “Listen to me, EJ. I’ll always be here. Always. I’m not your mama by birth, but I love you with all the pieces she left behind. You hear me? She’s smiling down on you right now—proud, so proud of how kind, smart, and respectful you are.”
He nodded, hugging her back, whispering into her shoulder, “You smell like cupcakes.”
And in the hallway, I stood quietly, one hand braced against the wall. I didn’t say a word, didn’t break the spell. I just watched them, the woman I loved and the boy who carried my whole legacy, melt into each other like puzzle pieces that always should’ve fit.
My eyes stung, but I let the tears sit unspilled. My chest swelled with something too big for breath. That child wasn’t just healing.
She was, too.
And me? I was finally watching my forever come into focus.
Candles flickered low on the balcony of our new place, the one we’d chosen together. Their flames swayed with the evening breeze, tiny dancers bowing to the night. The air smelled of roasted garlic and rosemary drifting from the kitchen, layered with cherry reduction so sweet it almost painted the air with sugar.
Jonay stood barefoot at the window, draped in one of my shirts, the fabric swallowing her frame but somehow fitting her better than it ever fit me. The fading sky had gone wild, streaks of coral and lavender bleeding into one another until it looked like Heaven was watercolored. The glass caught her reflection, and for a moment, it was like I was looking at both the woman she was now and the girl she’d fought to protect years ago. Strong. Tender. Mine.
Her silhouette glowed against the cotton candy sky, and it felt like God Himself was proud of her.
“You good?” I asked, my voice low as I stepped behind her. My arms slid around her waist, linking us together like I was built to fit her puzzle.
She leaned back into me, humming softly, her head tipping just enough to rest against my chest. “Baby, I’m great.”
I pressed my face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in—vanilla, coconut oil, and the faintest whisper of wine. I kissed her shoulder, each brush of my lips a quiet vow. “You sure, baby?”
Her pause told me more than words. Then her whisper floated out, tender and steady. “Yes. Have you seen how far we’ve come?”
I kissed the curve of her jaw, the warmth of her skin grounding me. “Yeah,” I murmured. “And I’m not ever letting us go back.”
