Page 205 of When Love Takes Root

JJ bent forward with his hands on his knees. Maya covered her face with both hands. Zuri cried into Skye’s shoulder, and Skye cried because everybody else restarted. I turned into Josiah’s chest, and he held me while his own breath shook against my hair.

For two years, I’d thought moving forward meant leaving Jamal behind.

But standing there in The Root & Remembrance Garden, with my children crying around a tree planted in their father’s name and Josiah’s hand steady against my back, I finally understood.

Love wasn’t asking us to leave him.

Love was asking to keep growing.

Jamal had been a root.

Josiah wasn’t trying to pull him up.

He was asking if there was room in the soil.

And God help me, with tears on my face and my babies gathered beneath leaves that would outlive our fear, I knew there was.

Two Weeks Later

By the time Celeste stepped onto her porch, I had already prayed twice, checked my watch three times, and reminded myself that a grown man could be nervous without surrendering his dignity.

And still, something in my chest wouldn’t settle. Not nerves exactly. Something quieter. Heavier. Like I was standing on the edge of something good, hoping I wouldn’t lose it.

Then she opened the door, and dignity became negotiable.

She wore a deep-green dress that fit her just right, her locs gathered high with red-tinted strands catching the porch light. Gold hoops brushed her neck. Her eyes were soft, cautious, and enough to make my thoughts scatter.

My Red walked outside looking like trouble I wasn’t ready for.

For a split second, I wondered if I’d ever really be ready for her; if loving Celeste would always feel like reaching for something holy with hands still learning how to hold. Like I’d always be aware of how easily something this good could slip through fingers that hadn’t always known how to keep what mattered.

I stood beside my truck with one hand on the passenger door and the other trying to remember I had some self-control.

She tilted her head, catching me staring. “You just gonna stare at me?”

“Yes.”

The word slipped out before I could dress it up.

Her brow lifted, waiting.

“I mean . . .” I cleared my throat and straightened. “Good evening.”

Her laugh hit me square in the chest, warm and easy.

“You look beautiful.”

Her fingers brushed over the fabric of her dress, smoothing it like she needed something to do with her hands. “Thank you.”

I opened the door for her. “And before you ask, no, I’m not telling you where we’re going.”

She paused halfway into the seat, glancing back at me. “I wasn’t going to ask.”

“You absolutely were.”

She settled in, folding her hands in her lap. “I was going to inquire.”

“That’s asking with extra steps.”