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Britain let out a hopeless sigh as her eyes focused on the television screen in her living room. She sat comfortably, Indian style on her carpeted floor watching the cheeky movie calledFalling Inn Love. She was sure if she wasn't on the verge of getting herself drunk, she wouldn't have given the movie a chance. The main star, Christina Milian, just didn't do it for her when it came to starring in other movies. To Britain, she would always be Paris Morgan fromLove Don't Cost a Thing.

"Awe," Britain cooed as she witnessed the first kiss shared between the expected love interest of the movie. The sexual tension between the two was at an all-time high, which made the kiss even more fulfilling. Her pouted lip went back in before she rolled her eyes deeply. "Yeah, I used to get kissed like that," she muttered as she pulled the cork out of her favorite wine to fill her glass once more. "But then I snapped on him, and now… I can't even contact him to apologize."

Britain continued to watch the movie, involuntarily convulsing in tears. “Britain, you fucked up bad," she whined as she used the sleeve of the shirt she grabbed from Priest's side of the closet to wipe her tears. "He's probably back with Paula right now." Pessimistic thoughts began crowding her mind.

The thought of Priest even entertaining Paula just for a second bothered her and made her skin crawl. The thought quickly dispersed from her mind. There was no way Priest would ever think about seeking comfort in Paula. He hated doubling back to anything.

"Yup, I lost him for good." Britain sighed deeply as she pushed the glass aside, deciding to drink from the bottle instead. "He hates doubling back."

Figuring that her best bet would be to just down the entire bottle of wine, Britain sat in her sorrows and regrets. Shecontinued screening the cliche movie while thinking about how she went wrong with Priest. With only a glass of wine remaining in the bottle, Britain sat it aside. The joy of drinking it went completely out of the window once it started tasting like water to her.

Rising from her seat on the ground, she stood to her feet. Luckily, she was able to function after the multiple drinks she had. Shuffling her feet toward the window, she parted her blinds a bit. As expected, Cyro sat outside in the SUV keeping tabs on her.

He noticed her looking through the blinds and made eye contact with her. She waved him over, resulting in Cyro getting out of his car. He strolled his way toward the front door of her apartment, and she shuffled over to the door, opening it for him.

"Ms. Demings?" Cyro's baritone voice resounded through her ears as he peered down at her in a questioning manner.

She cleared her throat. She was hoping she didn't look too much of a mess. Cyro had always seen her put together and happy. Now, here she was standing in her doorway with her hair tied up in a satin scarf, wearing an oversized shirt and leggings. "Hey, Cyro. Have you heard from Priest lately?" she inquired with a hopeful look on her bare face.

He cleared his throat lightly. "Yes, I have," he confirmed. "He calls daily to check in on you.”

She nodded her head before her orbs trailed down to her hands as she toyed with them sheepishly. "Does he uh—" She cleared her throat. "Sound mad? Like pissed?" she questioned while raising her brow.

He furrowed his brows in slight confusion. "No, Ms. Demings. Do you want me to take you to him?" he asked, his facial expression morphing into his usual curt and unapproachable mug.

Britain's eyes jolted from the nervous gaze she had on her hands over to Cyro. "That won't get you in trouble, will it?" she asked wondering if Priest had made specific orders to keep her away from him.

He shook his head. "It won't, Ms. Demings.”

She let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, then. I'm gonna go get ready. You can wait inside if you would like."

Once more, Cyro shook his head. "I'll stay out here," he assured her. "Take your time."

Britain thanked him with a light smile before shutting the door so she could proceed to get ready. She wasn't sure what to expect once she got to Priest, but all she could think about was apologizing. She was praying that Priest wouldn't coldly turn her away just as she had done him at the hospital. She wanted him back, and she wanted him to know how sorry she was.

Britain took a whiff of herself, realizing she smelled exactly like the bottle of wine she had downed. "Damn, Brit," she shamed herself as she stripped out of her clothes so she could get into the shower. She needed to wash away any bit of wine she had lingering on her. She was going to try to suppress how drunk she was as much as possible.

After the shower, Britain brushed her teeth once more, trying her best to mask the smell of the wine on her tongue. Acting as if she was put together was a lot harder than she thought. Once she was all dressed, Britain sat at her vanity with her array of makeup before her. Britain successfully beautified her face with some makeup, pleased to see that her steady hand didn't waver, even though she had a lot to drink.

Once she was completely finished, she looked herself over in the mirror. The brand-new two-piece outfit that she paired with some matching sneakers would just have to do. She grabbed her black Telfar tote, completing her look.

After gathering her phone, wallet and keys, Britain exited her bedroom. For some reason, the walk to her front door felt like bricks were attached to her ankles. All she could think about was Priest not being pleased with her popping up and masking how buzzed she was with a pretty face of makeup, nice perfume and a fashionable outfit.

She let out a deep breath before courageously striding toward the door. Upon opening it, she caught Cyro's attention, and he adjusted his posture immediately.

"Ready to go, Ms. Demings?" Cyro's thick and hearty voice asked.

Britain nodded. "Thank you, Cyro," she expressed her gratitude while locking her door. Walking out beside her, Cyro assured her it was fine. Once they got to the SUV, he assisted her into the back seat before getting into the car himself.

She was left in her own thoughts as she sat in the back seat of the vehicle. She wasn't sure exactly where Priest was, but that was the least of her worries. All she could think about was his reaction to her just popping up.After a semi-lengthy ride, Britain felt the car ease into a smooth stop. Looking through the window, she furrowed her brows at the sight of La Lealtá. "He's here?" Britain asked for clarification.

Cyro nodded, confirming that Priest was indeed inside the restaurant. Now the real question was of who he was with."Could you call him for me, please?" Britain requested, and Cyro obliged. He dialed Priest's number, informing him that he was outside with her.

It didn't take long for her to see Priest striding out of the glass doors of La Lealtá. The sight of him caused Britain's heart to race. In his charcoal black Tom Ford suit, Britain could tell that she had just caught him at the wrong time. His debonair attire was complimented by his the iced out Piguet watch that laced his wrist, along with the diamond drenched chain dedicated toJamari. His handsome facial features were accentuated by his sharp hair line, along with his lined-up beard.

He walked straight to her window, applying a light tap onto it. She rolled it down, finally facing him. He let out a deep sigh. "Britain, what are you doing here?" he asked with a bit of concern in his tone.

She knew she should have come up with a reasonable excuse for popping up on him, but she truly had nothing. Seeing that she wouldn't be rendering him a response, he let out another exasperated sigh. Glancing down, he checked his watch. "Right now is not a good time. I'm handling something. I'll stop by?—"