𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Wednesday night in my penthouse was cold and lonely. I could hear the faint hum of the city outside, but even that felt distant, almost like I was living in a bubble that no one could burst. It wasn't always like this. I used to thrive on the noise, the parties, and the company of my boys, but lately, everything felt hollow.

I missed them, Noah and Na'jae. I hadn't seen them in a while, and each day felt like a little piece of me was missing. But tonight, I wasn't just missing them. I was missing Maluena. I could still picture her, her soft brown skin glowing in the moonlight, her curls falling effortlessly over her shoulders. I needed some time to think about everything, about us—what we had and what I'd lost.

The doorbell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. I walked over, curious. It was late, and I hadn't expected any visitors. When I opened the door, I chuckled. There he was—my best friend, Malik "Skeete" Kingston, leaning casually against the doorframe, a sly grin on his face.

"Skeete, man, look who's back!" I exclaimed, laughing as I dapped him up. We hugged like brothers, the way we always had.

"What's up, my nigga?" he asked, his deep voice filled with warmth. He stepped inside, taking a long look around the place. "Damn, Chris, you really livin' nice up here, huh?" He nodded approvingly, eyeing the penthouse with a sense of pride.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Man, it's just walls and windows. Ain't much without the right people to share it with."

Skeete laughed as he dropped his duffle bag on the couch. "It's still a hell of a place, though." He turned to me, his expression softening. "It's been four fucking years, man. Four. How've you been? I feel like we lost a whole lifetime."

I shrugged, walking into the kitchen to grab us a couple of beers. "You know how it goes. I've been... here. Same old, same old. But you? How's life been in the UK? Last I heard, you were loving it out there."

Skeete sat down on the couch, stretching out his legs as he took the beer I offered him. "Man, London was great. Never been better, honestly. Loved the vibe, the people, all of it. But after a while, it didn't feel like home. You know how it is. I needed to come back, get back to my roots, and see my boy." He took a long swig from the bottle before setting it down. "Plus, I missed the food."

I laughed at that, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Yeah, can't get a good plate of jerk chicken over there, can you?"

He grinned. "Nah, not like home. But for real, it's good to be back. I missed this. Missed you. Missed... everything."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. We hadn't seen each other in four years, but it didn't feel like a single day had passed. Skeete and I had been friends since before we could walk, and no matter how much time went by, we always fell back into the same rhythm.

"So... how's the wife?" Skeete asked after a beat, his tone casual, but I could tell he was really asking.

I let out a heavy sigh and took a long sip of my whiskey before answering. "She's... gone."

Skeete raised an eyebrow. "The fuck do you mean by gone? Like she gone gone? "

I walked back into the living room and sank down into the armchair across from him. "She's not gone gone you fucking dumbass ... we got divorced not long after you left for London. Lauren was back from France, and she came to work at my company, and I fucked up by reigniting that flame. And even before that i never really focused on Malu, it was always work, work, work."

Skeete's jaw dropped. "Divorced? And you didn't tell me? What the hell, Chris? That's some major life stuff to keep quiet about."

I ran a hand over my face, feeling the guilt wash over me. "I know, I know. But you were living your life out there. I didn't want to drag you back into my mess."