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Britain nodded in understanding. She couldn't help but feel stupid. She had spent all this time worrying about the reaction she would get from Priest if she came around to apologize. Priest was truly the most understanding person she had ever met. "I appreciate you so much," she told him. "I know I'm a mess?—"

Priest chuckled as he interjected her talking that would eventually string out into another apology. "It's alright,Gioia," he reassured. "C'mon. Let's go sober you up." He got up from his seat, pulling her up with him.

Britain followed him to his bedroom where he pulled the comforter back so she could take a nap comfortably. She smiled lightly at him before kicking off her shoes. He went into the closet, grabbing a set of comfy clothes for Britain to change into.

"Can we talk about Paula before you force me to take a nap?" she asked as he returned, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

Priest let out a light sigh as he pulled her closer so she was standing between his legs. "It'll be better to have that talk after you’ve slept some of that wine off. You're emotional," he told her as he assisted her out of her top and helped her change into a loose-fitting t-shirt.

"Okay, answer me this. Then I'll leave it alone until after my nap," Britain bargained.

Priest nodded as he aided her with slipping off the bottoms to her outfit to substitute them with a pair of cotton shorts. "Shoot,” he told her to proceed with her question.

"Does she ever have a chance?" Britain asked as she cupped his face in her hands so he was looking up at her.

Priest screwed his face up. "A chance at what? Getting back with me?" he asked, seeking a bit more clarification, whichresulted in her nodding her head. Concern and worry laced her eyes, and he didn't like it at all.

"No," he stated sternly. "I fucked up today, but she wouldn't go through with my plan unless I was there. I handle her accordingly. I'm not sending any mixed signals her way. I’ve actually been pretty harsh." He chuckled lightly, recalling how curt and brutally honest he'd been with Paula. "If I'm with you, then I'm with you."

"Okay.”

"Take your nap. I'll be here when you wake up," he assured her, causing a light smile to surface on her face. She agreed, climbing into the comfortable bed and pulling the comforter over her.

"I love you, playa," Britain mumbled with her eyes shut.

"Love you too, playa." He smiled, grateful that their relationship was restored.

HARLEM, NEW YORK

Remy had been scolding Britain for being so selfless and tiring herself out to take care of him. Friday night, he gave her stern orders not to stop by the entire weekend just so she could take some time for herself.Knowing how hardheaded she was, he was expecting her to pop up any minute. Although he would have loved the company right about now, he knew it would be the right thing to do to turn her away and not even answer the door. She would devote the entire weekend to him if he didn't put a stop to it.

Easing into his recliner, Remy prepared himself to watch some ESPN highlights. It had been a while since he had his home to himself since Mirsad had grown comfortable there. For the time being, he felt like it would be best for Mirsad to spend sometime with his mother. He didn't need Leonard or June sending some niggas after him and they get Mirsad just because he was in the way.Mirsad talked tough shit, but Remy wouldn't even think about risking it with him.

Just as he was about to kick his feet up to enjoy the leftovers Britain had left behind from the home-cooked meal she made him, there was a knock on the door. Remy smacked his lips while shaking his head. "That damn Britain," he mumbled with a shake of his head.

Cautious of his healing wounds and bandages, Remy stood up from his seat. He staggered a bit toward the door, ready to turn Britain away through the peephole. Lowering his head to the peephole, Remy was shocked to see that it wasn't Britain on the other side of the door. He let out a heavy sigh as he unlocked it, pulling it open. "You lost?" Jeremy eyed Seven up and down skeptically.

Seven, who stood under him in height, hiked her head up to eye him with a scowl on her face. "No, actually, I'm not." She folded her arms across her chest. "You've lived here your entire life, Jeremy. I know this spot inside and out," she cattily replied.

Remy leaned against the door frame, preventing her from coming right into the house. "SevenJewel," he voiced, putting emphasis on her last name she gained from marriage. "What are you doing here?" he questioned her.

Seven gazed up at him, and her eyes met his before she quickly shifted them elsewhere. Her soft brown orbs made their way down to his shirt where blood was now seeping through it. "You're bleeding, Jeremy," she cast his attention onto his wound, which was due for a bandage change.

Remy pressed his finger against his shirt, causing more blood to stain it. "Shit," he groaned lightly.

"Let me," she offered to change the bandages. Remy eyed her for a moment before sighing, then agreeing to let her inside.Her eyes wandered around. He had fully renovated the home that used to belong to his mother. She could recall the times he had her sneaking up the steps to his bedroom. Remy was always ashamed of being a grown man living with his mother, but she never made him feel less of a man for it. He was taking care of his sick mother, and even though a lot of niggas played him out for it, she kept it real. She remembered helping him with his widowed mother, Mrs. Demings. Seven was the first woman to ever accept him along with his mother. He knew he couldn't let Seven get away then.

"Now, what did you do with Miss Rae's fine China?" Seven asked with a light laugh as she noticed that Remy had gotten rid of all his mother's decor. Remy shrugged his shoulders. "She had gotten foreclosed while I was in prison." He cleared his throat. "I had to buy the house off the market again.”

Seven regretted trying to make light of the situation. It was just more of a reminder of how many years they had been apart. "I'm sorry," she apologized for her lack of empathy.

Remy shook his head. "Not your fault I fucked up." He shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "I keep the Band-Aids and stuff in the downstairs bathroom.”

Seven nodded as she went ahead of him to open the door. It was evident that he was still in pain and was trying to mask it. They made it to the bathroom where he leaned against the stool so he wouldn't be standing completely. "Well?" Seven asked, indicating that she was waiting for him to take off his shirt.

Remy let out a deep sigh as he continued to eye her. She was gorgeous. Her hair was styled in a low ponytail that was slicked down with a side part. Seven's thick curls poofed up behind her with her streaks of gray on full display. It was nice seeing her in something other than scrubs, although he loved the sight of her being the surgeon she had always dreamed of being. Today, she wore a pair of light washed jeans, matching them with a loose-fitting white button-down blouse. Her feet were adorned in a taupe pair of Bottega Veneta flat sandals. She accessorized her attire with a simple gold locket, her gold cut Cartier love bracelet and her dazzling wedding ring.

Jeremy quickly pulled his soul-reading eyes from her ring, closing in on her face. It was almost as if she were aging backward. She stood before him with her face free from any makeup. Seven was a natural beauty. She always had been. Her go-to was always a little tinted Chapstick. She never really dabbled into makeup unless it was for a special occasion. The sight of her rich terracotta skin blushed with golden undertones brought some nostalgia back to Jeremy. "Seven, what you doing here?" he asked her softly, wanting to get some answers.