𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝟏𝟖: 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭

I was lounging around my penthouse, waiting for the cleaning lady to finish up. The place was spotless, but my mind was cluttered. As usual, Lauren was blowing up my phone, talking about some party happening later, but I couldn’t focus. I kept replaying last night in my head, how Beyoncé and I had made up, talked, and finally got real with each other. It felt like some movie scene, the way she opened up, and for once, I wasn’t the one running.

“Girl, I swear, it’s like she finally gets it,” I said into the phone, pacing around my living room. “I mean, we argued, yeah, but we got deep. Like she’s scared to trust me or something. But damn, I got her now.”

Lauren laughed on the other end. “You always get what you want, don’t you? Can’t believe it though. Beyoncé, out of all people.”

I grinned, hearing the cleaning lady muttering something as she picked up the last of her supplies. She must’ve overheard my conversation, ‘cause she shot me a look.

“She’s a real woman, you know,” the lady said, her voice low but full of judgment. “You shouldn’t break her heart.”

I rolled my eyes, half-annoyed. “Are you done here?”

The cleaning lady scrambled, packing up her stuff and leaving without another word. Damn, people stay having opinions on my business.

I tossed my phone onto the couch and made my way to the bar cart, pouring myself a drink. I swirled the liquid in my glass, taking a moment to enjoy the peace. That was until I heard a knock on the door.

"Did she forget something?" I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I headed over to open it. But when I swung the door open, I nearly dropped my drink.

Standing there, grinning and giving a small wave, was Beyoncé.

"Hey," she said, all casual like she hadn’t just popped up at my place unannounced. She had on a pair of blue Levi’s, black heeled boots, and a white cropped top under a black coat. Her hair was up in a messy low bun, and I swear she was blushing. She looked so simple, but damn, she made casual look like high fashion.

I blinked, trying not to look like I was about to lose it. “Uh... hey. What are you doing here?” I stepped aside, letting her in.

Beyoncé looked around my place, her eyes lingering on the high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. “Is this weird? I didn’t text first. I don’t know how you young people do things now. Am I acting old?”

She sounded so nervous, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Nah, you’re good, wifey. And you look good today.” I shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a second, just watching her move.

She shrugged off her coat and bag, placing them on the chair like she was making herself at home. “I wanted to spend some time with you,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “You kind of... touched my heart the other night.”