Language

Epilogue

Malakai Elias Eros.

"You've got your father's eyes," Reign observes, holding my son up in the air.

He babbles, attempting to speak back at Reign. He's only got a few words that he knows.

"Can't believe you're already turning one, big guy," Reign exclaims, setting him back down in the chair.

I light the candle on the little cupcake in front of him, and everyone's eyes were focused on the birthday boy.

"Should we sing?" Rika asks, holding the hand of Rose, her daughter, as she stood by her feet.

I looked away from her.

I left it up to them to decide.

The only thing I could think about was how my wife was laying in the hospital bed beside us, unable to experience the first birthday of our child.

"Happy birthday to you," they all began.

My son's eyes lit up, his little mind overwhelmed by everyone's attention.

"Happy birthday, dear Malakai."

I held Amorette's cold hand. Her skin was still soft like it was when we met.

"Happy birthday to you," they finished, clapping and helping him blow out the candle.

"Good job!" Amaiah told him, urging Axel to take a picture.

"How cute," Michael laughed, watching as Malakai attempted to eat the cupcake.

He practically ate more of the paper than the actual cake itself.

"Mama," Malakai speaks through a mouth full of frosting.

I pick up my son, wiping his face before walking him over to my wife.

I sit him down on my knee, guiding his hand to her's.

"Mama's here," I told him, the swell of my throat not going unnoticed.

Reign laid a supportive hand on my back.

Rika, her daughter, Noah, Jaden, Axel, and Amaiah stepped away to the other side of the hospital suite, giving us some privacy.

There were piles of gifts on the couch and tons of flowers for Amorette.

Amorette's unmoving body rested, her breathing still assisted by the oxygen machine. At least she wasn't on the ventilator anymore.

"Kai," I spoke, "She loves you very much."

Our son looks up at me, his face holding so much life. Then he looks back at his mother, her face lacking it.

"Love you," he gets out, barely audible.

Reign sits down next to me.

"Augustine."

I jerk, my head spinning around.

My father walks through the doorway, his limp still prominent.

God, I would never get used to seeing him this often.

"Had to come for my grandson's birthday," he assured, a small gift bag in his hand.

"Papuo," Malakai exclaims, his arms shooting up.

My father insisted on being referred to the Greek term for grandfather, as "grandpa" made him sound too old.

My son did a fairly good job at pronouncing it. I was proud of him.

He knew our language.

"I got you and your wonderful mother a gift, Kai, you'll have to share with her," my father hands him the bag.

Malakai looked to me for assurance, and I nod, urging him to open the gift.

My father placed a supportive hand on my back.

Malakai rummaged through the tissue paper, his small hands trying to reach the bottom.

He pulls out a box that contained a large set of new toys, things that he was starting to take an interest in. Tow trucks, animals, and plastic building blocks. Then, what followed the box was even more meaningful.

A picture frame.

I blinked. My heart ached.

Beneath the glass was the picture taken on the day Malakai was born.

In the hospital, similar to this very room, with Amorette hooked to all types of machines that were keeping our son alive and well. In the photograph, I was standing next to her with Malakai in my arms.

It had been almost a year and 9 months since I've seen that image.

And never would I have thought I would be looking back it today.

"Me?" Malakai asks, too smart for his age.

"You're right," my father nods, "Your family."

Family.

The family I found within Amorette. The family she gave me.

Looking down at myself in the picture, I smiled, then looked at what was in front of me.

It was all right here, my family.

The love, the actions, the words, the time, the service.

I felt it within this room, around my people.

Even in her unmoving presence, I still felt it. I still felt the words she would whisper or yell or cry, "I love you." I understood the meaning, now.

I placed a kiss on Amorette's cheek, hoping she, too, could somehow understand my language.