The day is one of those cooler summer ones with a hint of a brewing thunderstorm on the horizon. The Johannesburg skyline with the Brixton, Ponte, and Auckland Park tower landmarks is visible from the Emmarentia hill, but it’s not the view I’m focused on. It’s the woman standing in front of the stately old building, her ruby brown hair blowing in the breeze. She’s wearing a yellow dress that accentuates the glow of her golden skin. For a moment, her eyes find mine, connecting with me and me alone, and then she’s scooped up by the mob of journalists and politicians who all want a piece of her.

I tighten my hand around Connor’s, making sure I don’t lose him in the crowd, and balance Sophia on my hip. Sophia will be nineteen months tomorrow, and we have a third on the way, although it doesn’t yet show in the gentle swell of Valentina’s belly. We decided to announce it to the world after today. Today, Valentina didn’t want anything to compete with the opening of the center for the disabled.

As much as our children, this is her baby, something she worked hard on during the past year, and even though many families and mentally challenged individuals will profit from her project, she did it for Charlie. The old hospital was turned into a nurse hostel years ago, and when government funds to maintain it ran out, the beautiful three-story building stood empty for almost two decades, the structure dilapidated and its once manicured garden overgrown with weeds. As the city’s new mayor, this was one of Valentina’s first initiatives. Yup, she came a long way.

The work she did with her company is commendable. After growing it into one of the country’s most successful businesses, she started plowing money back into the community to help people who suffer like she used to, people who come from where she does. It came as no surprise that those people came to love and revere her, selecting her onto the local municipal council and now as the Johannesburg mayor. Her connections to Barnard and other clean state officials helped, as did the anti-criminal operation she undertook in Berea. My little pet is a strong, fair, and compassionate leader. It doesn’t take a scientist to see she was born for this.

I shift the weight of the diaper bag on my shoulder, staying on the outskirts to give Valentina room to speak to the press as well as to admire her from a distance. Watching her operate, I can never get enough. I’m not the only one. She’s a people magnet. Quincy and Rhett, now married with their own families, are crowding close. They’re no longer her self-appointed bodyguards, but we remain friends, honoring our standing Saturday poker nights at Kris’ place. These days Rhett runs a successful security business while Quincy provides protection for the touring stars of rock concerts. They know me as Gregor. Nobody except for Valentina knows my secret. Kris is here, too, always supporting Valentina in her official and non-official ventures. Her practice in Orange Grove became a benchmark in the industry with such a phenomenal growth that she opened five franchises throughout the city, as well as the biggest animal rescue center in the country. She’s also the sponsor of a full bursary for underprivileged veterinary students.

A series of flashes go off as my wife poses for the cameras with the newly appointed president of the Association for the Mentally Disabled. Charlie beams at his sister’s side. He comes to the center every day to work as a mail sorting clerk, and the work does him good. He loves dividing the letters into neat destination bundles. The center provides employment opportunities, ranging from filling envelopes to preparing promotional flyers, as well as support and guidance for the members and their families. People like Charlie can find a sense of belonging and purpose here, as well as government sponsored treatment.

Charlie lives with us in the new house we built on an acre of property on the border of Kyalami. It’s a family house with toys scattered over the floors, a swing in the garden, and a bicycle on the lawn. We have five dogs, all strays, and an array of cats that come and go, some staying longer than others. Oscar is still with us, but Bruno sadly died of old age last year.

All of our lives revolve around the small woman in the center of the spectators. Another flash goes off as the Minister of Home Affairs shakes her hand. Last month Valentina was on the cover of every magazine and newspaper, and this week she’s been invited to a congregation of leaders who hope to vote her into government on a national level, but she already decided to decline. Like any couple with their own business, two young kids, and another on the way, we lead a hectic life, but one I wouldn’t exchange for anything. I wish Carly could have known her half-brother and sister and share this incredible moment, but I believe she’s here with us.

Since Valentina became busy with city council business, I run her company. My main focus is still protecting her and our children, but I’m happy to have something in which I find purpose, something I enjoy. Something clean. No more breaking. No more violence.

Sophia starts to fuss. I know this particular cry. Soon, she’ll be bawling. I lie her down in the stroller to check her diaper and drop the bag to the ground.

“Be a big man and get me your sister’s bottle, please,” I tell Connor.

He unzips the bag, locates the item, and holds it out proudly. “Here, Daddy.”

I ruffle his hair before taking the bottle from the insulation holder and testing a drop of milk on my wrist to ensure it’s not too hot.

My little girl takes a greedy gulp when I put the nipple in her mouth, first swallowing air. A soft hand falls on my shoulder, and Valentina’s voice washes over me.

“Are you managing?”

I grin at her. “Always.”

“You’re a good daddy.”

I steal a chaste kiss, careful not to tip the bottle and break Sophia’s suction. “You’re a better mommy.”

“Thank you.” Her words are soft-spoken.

My gaze rakes over her body. “For what?”

“For doing this,” she motions at our baby girl, “so I can do that.” She flips a hand at the people enjoying the cocktails and finger food set out on the lawn.

“You’re welcome.” Truth is, I love daddying my kids, and there’s nothing I won’t do for my clever, industrious, pretty wife.

“Just a few more minutes and then we can escape.”

Connor runs off to Charlie. I keep one eye on him and the other on my daughter. “Go mingle and do whatever mayors are supposed to do. Sophia doesn’t need to nap for another hour. I can go home with her and Connor if you’d like to stay longer.”

“I was thinking we could put the kids down for their nap and catch up.”

My body is immediately interested. “Catch up, huh?” I shift behind the stroller to hide the untimely hardening in my pants.

A pretty flush heats her cheeks. “Um, yeah.”

I know exactly how I’m going to catch up with her, and from the way she lowers her lashes and works her lip between her teeth, she knows, too.

“You better get your sexy butt in the car. Now.”

I use enough of the assertive tone she loves in the bedroom to make her eyes snap back to mine. Her pupils dilate a fraction, and her nipples turn into two hard points under the soft fabric of her dress.

She clears her throat. “Give me a minute to say my goodbyes and to get Charlie.”

“I said now. You disobey me, wife.” I lower my lips to hers, not kissing her, but breathing the words over the plump curve of her bottom lip, loud enough for only her to hear. “There will be consequences.”

“Promise?” she asks in a breathy whisper.

“You can count on it.”

She stares at me with the heated, adoring look that tells me she loves me for who I am, and that no matter what, she’ll always be there for me.

“I love you, too,” I say as she makes to turn.

“I didn’t say I love you,” she says with a mischievous smile.

“Yes, you did.”

In a few minutes she’ll be screaming it, too, in the only language that matters.

A language that surpasses words and time.

A language of love and forever.

Our unique language.