I squinted at the Alexa Echo and saw a man at the door with a bag in his hand. Confused, I stumbled out of bed and grabbed my keys from my dresser, which held my pepper spray on it.

“Fuck!” I hollered, stubbing my toe on the side of my bed as I attempted to grab my robe. That was some pain that took a while to come back from. The man continued to knock.

I rushed down the hall. Peeping out the peephole, I looked closer at him before unlocking the door. I cracked the door open and stuck my head out, looking like a complete mess.

“Can I help you?” I questioned the man.

He smiled. “I have a delivery for you from Mr. Heart.” He dug in the bag, pulled out a plastic bag, and handed it to me.

‘Um, okay. Thanks. Sorry, I just woke up.”

“No problem. Have a great day, Ma’am.”

“Thanks, you too.”

He bopped off whistling, and I shut the door and locked it. Whatever was in the bag smelled good. It made my stomach grumble loudly. Taking it to the table, I undid the knot and pulled the clear container out that held biscuits, bacon, eggs, and in a smaller container was some cut-up fruit.

I popped a strawberry in my mouth and retrieved my phone.

Thanks for the breakfast.

I sent the text and sat down to enjoy the delicious breakfast.

Crown was doing more than what he should be. The Bahamas was cool, and what we did was one weekend. I wasn’t looking for love, a relationship, or anything of that nature. Thatwas just a weekend of fun and no regrets. I didn’t regret it, not one bit. Crown brought something out of me that I didn’t know was there. I just…I couldn’t see myself starting over with another man after five years. It’s like, you have to get to know them, meet their family…all that.

My phone vibrated on the table. Wiping my hands, I picked it up.

No problem, Wifey. Hurry up. I need to lay eyes on you.

crown heart

. . .

I tossedand turned last night, so this morning, I was no fuckin’ good, but I had a job to do that couldn’t be pushed back. Because Kupid was drinking wine last night, I figured she might be struggling this morning, so I sent her breakfast. At 12:45 p.m., I was in the back of the car, replying to messages from Nisha and Trae, heading to rehearsals. It was just for one day. I never had to do too much while performing. There were no dancers. All I had to do was rap, and the crowd fucked wit’ me.

Kupid wasn’t needed today—I just wanted her there. As she said, I will just be making up a job for her ass. I blame her for me tossing and turning because she wasn’t by my side. Ain’t gon’ lie, I thought about popping up on her last night just to get in her bed with her, but Kupid tried to push the issue that she wasn’t tryin’ to fuck wit’ a nigga like that.

That intrigued me more. I had long fuckin’ money, and shestillwasn’t tryin’ to fuck with me on a different level than just being her boss. Even after we took shit further in the Bahamas. My ass kind of feels used.

Arriving at tour rehearsals, Trae immediately met me and had me confirm the song lineup. While we walked to the stage,because, of course, the first city would be Heartville, I swiftly rolled my eyes over the piece of paper. Yawning, I nodded and handed it back to Trae.

“Yeah, that’s it,” I let him know.

“Nigga, you ain’t get sleep in the Bahamas?” He chuckled.

Joke was on him, though.

“The best sleep.”

Trae shook his head. I paid him no mind because my wife came into view. Ignoring the bullshit he had begun to mumble, I took off to meet her. Kupid had taken her braids down, and she was sporting her natural hair in a poofy, high bun. She wore a plain white T-shirt and tan wide-leg pants. The Louis Vuitton purse I’d copped her over the weekend was in her hands. The one she tried to tell me she didn’t want, but here she was. She looked so businesswoman-like, yet so fuckin’ sexy. I eyed the bathroom and wondered if I could quickly sneak her inside.

“’Sup, beautiful. You look nice,” I greeted her.

Kupid’s eyes stretched as she peered around.

“Crown…there are people around,” she whispered. Kupid gave a woman walking by a fake smile and then focused back on me.

“Shit, my bad, baby…I mean, Ms. Love. How’s your morning goin’?”