Page 62 of Cuffed By Your Love
Jonay looked down, blinking rapidly as if she was trying to hold back the tears before they overflowed. She turned her face slightly away.
“I feel so badly about messing up your peace. You and EJ, you have something calm and steady. Kam walked in withchaos today as if he owned the place, and now everything feels cracked.”
I shook my head and gently cut her off, trying to sound mature. “Hey, I done already told yo’ lil’ pretty ass not to do that shit. Don’t take blame that’s not yours. You didn’t invite that storm in; you stood in the rain for us. You didn’t bring the thunder; you shielded my son from it. You held him close as if he were your own. And I swear to God, in that moment, you became his in a way that biology could never provide.”
She sniffled, trying to smile but losing the battle against the emotion in her chest. “Do you really trust me like that?”
I moved closer until our knees touched, and everything I said next came from the depths of my spirit.
“I trust you, as I have prayed for you. Apparently, so do three of the people who mean the most to my heart: my son, my mama, and my crazy ass sister. And let me tell you, my mama doesn’t trust anyone unless God or her greens tell her to.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder, feeling soft and sacred as if she was finally allowing herself to exhale. It was the kind of lean that conveyed, “I’m tired, but I feel safe here.”
The car fell silent once more. However, this time, the silence was free of tension or tears. Instead, it felt like peace was settling into its favorite chair, taking off its shoes, and resting. It was as if God had cracked open a window to let grace flow in.
Then, out of nowhere,boom! EJ shattered the stillness like only a child could. “Can we get ice cream now?”
Jonay laughed, a mix of sobs and sunshine, and I swore on every scripture I’d ever half-memorized that her laugh was a form of mercy. It was music that didn’t need a beat. It was the sound you could bottle up and play on hard days when the world felt too heavy, and you needed to be reminded to keep pressing on.
I glanced back at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard, still stuck on Mama’s message.
Tell her I said thank you for protecting and loving my boys.
I stared at it like the words were breathing. It felt like they curled around my chest, knocking on the door to every room I had locked up tight inside myself. My mama didn’t give compliments. She gave confirmations. That meant something.
Jazz had been my emergency contact since my rookie year at the police department. She knew how to act when I couldn’t. Chambers knew I wouldn’t answer the phone in the middle of the chaos, so I saw he’d called her as soon as things started getting intense. Even though Jazz wasn’t physically there, she worked in police records, so I was sure once she got the inside scoop, she gave our mom the entire play-by-play like a hood CNN anchor armed with receipts and righteous fury.
I chuckled to myself as I imagined her telling Mama about how Jonay stood her ground, chest out and arms wide, holding EJ like a mama bear faced with bills to pay and a broken heart like her ass was there to witness it. I could hear her explaining to Mama how I hadn’t stood up for anyone like that since the 12th grade, when someone disrespected her at homecoming. I could picture her recounting how her new little sister, Jonay, didn’t back down and held her own.
Mama, she didn’t just hear it. She felt it. And if my mama felt peace after something wild like that? That wasn’t luck. That was discernment.
I finally typed back.
Me:
I told her. She cried. In a good way.
I hit send and glanced over at Jonay still leaning into me as if peace had finally found her pulse again. In that moment, I didn’tneed any more signs. I didn’t need an altar call, no confirmation text, no voice from Heaven.
I already had everything I needed. We were heading to get ice cream. But what we really had was the kind of connection you didn’t stumble upon twice.
Crème & Chill always had the scent of a sugar high waiting to happen: brown butter waffle cones singing sweet lullabies to the soul, warm pralines melting like patience on a July sidewalk, and that unmistakable aroma of Black girl magic infused into every corner by the twin sisters, Cadence & Charity, running the register like queens on a candy-coated throne. They noticed me as soon as I walked in, badge or not, but today, I wasn’t an SRPD detective. I wasn’t in uniform. I wasn’t just another story on anyone’s timeline. I was simply a man trying to chase away the bitter taste of earlier chaos with a little sweetness for the two people who made it all worthwhile.
EJ bounced beside me, his Spider-Man hoodie zipped up to his chin like it was armor. His little fingers were wrapped tightly around Jonay’s, as if he had known her forever. He didn’t even flinch when Kam tried to cause trouble outside the day care. No, my boy stayed calm because Jonay anchored the storm. She stood there, her small frame radiating big energy, protecting him as if she had given birth to him herself.
We slid into a booth by the window, the sun kissing the glass just enough to make the moment feel golden. EJ settled in with his rainbow sherbet, humming and swinging his feet like he hadn’t just witnessed a grown man act a damn fool. Jonay and I sat across from him, our knees almost touching, our hearts still racing as we tried to calm down.
She ordered banana pudding ice cream in a waffle bowl, drizzled with caramel, like summertime nostalgia. I stuck to butter pecan because some things didn’t change, especially when they felt like home. She glanced at my scoop, her nose scrunched in disapproval.
“Old man flavor,” she teased.
I raised my brow slowly and smoothly. “Classic. Like a Cadillac on vogues, with seats that still smell like Granddaddy’s cologne. You can’t go wrong.”
She laughed, soft, sweet, and syrupy, and rolled her eyes as if I was both the problem and the solution. But there was a light in her eyes, a gentleness breaking through the cracks of whatever weight she was carrying. It was a softness that people often overlooked until it had been tested.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, leaning in just enough that only she could hear me.”
She exhaled, her shoulders rising slowly as if she was releasing everything she didn’t want to bring into the moment. “Yeah,… I think so. Just… embarrassed, I guess.”
