Page 68 of The Love of Priest 2

It was clear to Britain that Priest couldn't go back on the word he gave to Suzette.

She had no choice but to just deal with it.

A part of her felt as though he was aware of that, which was why he agreed to take on this business venture with Suzette in the first place.

This made her feel exactly how she used to feel in her past relationship: weak and na?ve.

Pursing his lips, he nodded his head. "Alright," he agreed before clearing his throat.

Apologies had been made, and it seemed like neither had gotten to the point of acceptance.

Priest didn't want her leaving, and she was still baffled by his choice to disregard everything he promised her when it came to Italy.

The two sat in a thick silence, neither bothering to say a word to break it. She aimlessly stared at her packed suitcase, and his dark brown eyes peered at her. He was sure if he said anything, it would be another apology pouring out of him. She heard enough of those.

He reached over, cupping her hand in his. Seamlessly, their fingers intertwined together. He lifted her hand up to his lips, making sure to place an extra number of kisses onto her ring, giving her a slight reminder that this wouldn't be the end of their relationship.

Amused, Britain rolled her eyes with a light laugh. "I'm upset, but I still love you," she admitted. "That's why I unpacked."

With a light smile, he extended his arm across her shoulder, pulling her closer. "I love you too," he professed while sitting a kiss at the top of her head. "I'm gonna make this shit up to you. Don’t count me out yet."

Britain rested her head on his chest, listening to his strong and steady heartbeat channel through her ears.

"Don't tell me. Show me," she advised him.

That was something he used to say whenever he wanted her to understand how in love he was with her.

He was well aware that actions spoke louder than words.

Now was the time to put the little saying into full effect.

Priest nodded in confirmation. "You got my word." He sealed his promise by placing his right hand over his heart.

THE NEXT DAY

As Priest misted his pulse points with his Creed cologne, he looked himself over in the mirror.

The navy-blue Palm Angels tracksuit did him well as his fresh white tee peeked from underneath the zipped jacket.

As he eyed himself in the mirror, he could see Britain leaning against the threshold of the bedroom door admiring him.

"You alright?" he asked, a bit concerned by the distant look that webbed her eyes.

A curt sigh eased out of Britain as she nodded her head.

"Yeah," she confirmed. The two hadn't made complete amends, but there wasn't any thick hostility between the two.

They were still affectionate and loving toward each other, but Britain had her mind set on leaving for New York for however long she needed to.

Extending her arm from behind her back, she revealed one of the new pairs of porcelain white Air Force 1's he had Catarina pick up from the galleria.

Priest had a surplus of shoes, and for the sake of never being without options, he made sure to stack up on as many cocaine white Air Force 1's as he could.

When Catarina came in hauling seven boxes of the same shoe, Britain couldn't help but roll her eyes.

A light smirk etched Priest's face as he rotated around to take the shoe box from her.

"‘Preciate it," he thanked her.

Britain folded her arms across her chest as she resumed leaning against the threshold of the door. "And so, it begins." She motioned her hand towards Priest.

Furrowing his brows, he shot her a questioning look. "What begins?" he asked as he extracted one of the sneakers out of the box to lace it up to his liking.

Britain brushed some of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her shoulders motioned up and down in a shrug. "Y'know, the early mornings and the late nights."

It was now crystal clear to him what she was alluding to. It prompted a deep sigh to drift out of her. "That's not what this is at all," he denied, shaking his head.

She stepped further into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Then what is it? An empire of a business just got handed over to you yesterday, so of course you're heading out early and coming in late because you have to run everything just like you did back in New York," she explained to him smugly.

The hostility and tension he thought they didn't have had begun brewing between them, and she was getting upset all over again.

He smacked his lips lightly as he shook his head.

He didn't bother to look up at Britain. Instead, he continued to lace his sneakers, being sure to keep the laces equal on both sides.

"Britain, if you want to know where I'm headed, all you have to do is ask.

You don't need to tip toe around the question like I'm hiding anything. We grown," he advised her.

Britain placed her hands on her hips as she gazed at him. "Okay, where are you going?" she outwardly asked him.

Priest shifted his attention from his sneakers, setting it on her. She stood before him, her brown orbs hawking him, awaiting an answer. "Was that so hard to ask?" He smirked as he tilted his head to the side.

"Priest, we're not at a point where you can joke right now," she warned him.

"Alright." He nodded as he sat the shoe aside momentarily. She watched as he reached over to the nightstand near their bed, grabbing ahold of a business card. He handed it over to her so she could read it.

She held the card in her hands, reading over the serif print that inked it. " Havani Tucker ," Britain read the name aloud. "Who is this?"

"She was my therapist when I first came out here, before I started unloading my trauma onto you," he enlightened her. He still offered her no eye contact, now shifting his focus over to the second shoe so he could lace it up just like he did the other.

Britain pursed her lips, feeling bad that she had just hounded him, assuming that he jumped right into the swing of Suzette and Matteo's operation. "You didn't tell me you did any counseling," she said, extending the business card back to him.

Priest’s broad shoulders motioned into a shrug. "It was just a few sessions. I went once I finally stopped being stubborn, but then I got called back to New York."

"Did it help?"

Priest nodded his head confidently. "It did for a little bit, but once I got back to New York, I just fell back into the same habits, which is why I unloaded myself like I did when we first met.”

"I didn't mind. I still don't," she clarified, hoping he wasn't seeing himself as a burden in her life just because she allowed him to vent.

A light smile masked his face as he finally shifted his dark eyes toward her. "I know. I appreciate that."

"So, is this like a private session or?—"

"You wanna join?" Priest asked with his brows raised.

Britain quickly shook her head. "I don't want to intrude. I want you to be comfortable."

"I'm actually the most comfortable when you're around," he enlightened her, causing a light smile to grace her face.

As nice as it sounded, she just didn't think it was a good idea, especially with it being his first session since he had come back. He needed to be vulnerable without her there, and she didn't want to be a reason why he didn't express himself as much as he could.

"I appreciate the invite, but I think this is something you should do alone. The first session back at least," she declined his invitation nicely.

Priest nodded his head. "If that's what you want.”

Britain stood aside, watching him glide his feet into the sneakers with ease.

As he stood to his full height, she was in awe at the sight of him.

The complete look of the Palm Angels track suit paired with the fresh pair of all-white Nike Air Forces and his diamond-drenched jewelry complimented his confident demeanor.

His lineup was sharp, and his beard was trimmed to perfection.

If she wasn't still holding a grudge from their disagreement, she was sure she would have jumped his bones by now.

Britain ran her fingers through her hair, a deep breath exhaling out of her. "I leave tonight," she reminded him.

Priest nodded his head as he readjusted his chains around his neck so the chain to commemorate Jamari was flipped over to show the photo on full display. "I know. I scheduled your flight.”

Britain smacked her lips with a roll of her eyes.

There were a lot of unsaid things between them, which resulted in them both being snarky.

"What I was trying to insinuate is that I would appreciate it if you were back in time to see me off.

I would hate to say goodbye with a phone call because you're busy," she explained.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't need to say goodbye at all, but I understand," he let out slyly with a hint of bitterness. "That's just the consequence for my action."

"I'm not trying to punish you," Britain clarified.

"And I'm not losing sight on my promises to you, and yet, neither of us is getting what we want,” he scoffed.

Britain pursed her lips as her eyes drifted away.

A part of him wished he could go back to the point in time when they were happy and content with each other.

Now there was this thick unspoken anger that was masking them both.

They weren't seeing eye to eye, but all they could do was accept each other's decision.

Glancing down to his Audemars Piguet wristwatch, he realized how pressed for time he was.

Clearing his throat from the silence the two shared, he shifted his attention to her. "I have to head out. I don't want to be late."

Britain nodded her head as she stepped aside so he could be on his way. "See you later then. Be safe.”