Chauncey
The streets can fucking wait—I’m headed home to be with my wife.
Before I left Crown Juelz, I made sure the cleanup crew handled everything like clockwork.
No loose ends. No mistakes. I already set up a meeting with the owner, Juelz, but he won’t be back in the city until Friday. I need this handled now.
I need a favor—and I’m praying he comes through.
I ain’t asking for much, but I’m still dropping a bag behind it.
That’s just how I move. The last thing I need is anything from tonight tracing back to me.
If the cops start snooping, my alibi’s gonna line up clean…
but more than anything, I refuse to have my wife caught up in my mess.
I’ll link up with Simmy in the morning—too late to hit him now—but I’m sending that text first thing and having him pull up with Bianca. The drive home took thirty minutes. Could’ve been quicker, but I needed Rhy to have a moment to breathe before I walked in and took over the air in that house.
I pulled into the garage, cut the engine, and for a moment, I sat there. It had been a while since I’d seen another car parked next to mine. That alone did something to me. I leaned my head back, staring up through the panoramic roof at the night sky, and exhaled slowly.
I ain’t no spiritual nigga… but this?
This felt like God.
Like something bigger than me was pulling strings I didn’t even know I was tied to.
I crossed too many fucking lines with Rhy—lines I can’t uncross.
I know she ain’t gone forget… but I’m praying she finds it in her to forgive me.
If I can walk away clean from the shit that went down earlier tonight, I swear I’m moving different.
I mean that.
The only woman I want looking at me, wanting me, touching me…
is my wife. I’m done with the extra hoes and the problems that come with juggling too much.
That life ain’t worth losing her. I finally stepped out, walked inside the house, and the silence hit me differently.
I grabbed a bottle of water, my throat dry as hell, before heading upstairs.
Every step felt heavier than the last. I was dying to see Rhy.
I took the steps two at a time, moving like I couldn’t get there fast enough. When I reached our door, it was closed, and the lights were off. I pushed it open and hit the switch, but it was empty.
My chest dipped for a second, but I could tell she’d been here.
Her drawer sat slightly open, as if she didn’t plan to stay long…
or maybe as if she didn’t know what she planned at all.
I expected her to be here, getting settled, waiting for me.
But as long as she’s under this roof, that’s all that matters right now.
I exhaled and ran a hand over my face. I still had some shit to handle before I saw Rhy.
I headed into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and watched the steam start to build.
I needed to wash today off me—every piece of it.
I’m done fucking off. Whit thought she was making a move, trying to trap a nigga, but I already know what time it is.
IT pulled what I needed—texts, timelines…
all of it. Her husband already filed for divorce, and she’s fighting that prenup like her life depends on it.
Truth be told, that nigga should thank me for stepping in and cleaning up his mess.
Still… I need this shit to stay quiet. The last thing I need is for it to get messy, with her trying to take something from me while I’m down bad—or worse…
dragging my wife into it and humiliating her in the process.
I finished up in the shower, brushing my teeth before drying off and throwing on a wife-beater and a pair of gray boxers. I hit the lights in our room, then stepped back out to find her.
There were a few spare rooms on this floor—I just didn’t know which one she chose. I checked the first room next to ours. Empty. The second… empty. By the time I made it to the third room at the end of the hall, I paused.
I smelled her.
Yeah… she was in here.
I pushed the door open slowly, stepping inside like I didn’t want to disturb the moment—even though I already felt it shifting. She was in bed, stretched out, quiet… but I knew better.
I moved toward her anyway.
Slid up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her into me like muscle memory never fucking left. I held her tight—probably tighter than I should’ve. Damn… I forgot how good she felt. How natural it was to be this close. Her scent alone almost had me losing focus.
I leaned in, my lips close to her ear.
“Aye, Rhy… I know you ain’t asleep. You could’ve waited up for me.”
My hands moved without asking, tracing over her body like I was reminding myself she was real.
She shifted slightly in my arms, her voice low, tired—but not soft enough to miss the distance.
“I tried to… I was tired.”
The first time Rhy didn’t object… but the second time my hands moved, she stopped me.
“Chauncey… I don’t think we can lie next to each other if you can’t keep your hands to yourself. That’s why I came in here. I already know what might happen if I stay in that bed with you. It’s too soon for all that.”
I went still, behind her.
For once… I listened.
I buried my face in the crook of her neck anyway, my voice low, softer than she probably expected.
“Aye, Rhy… I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
“Yeah… okay,” she muttered, not convinced.
I let out a quiet breath, forcing myself to stay right there—no reaching, no testing her.
“I’m sorry… I just… I can’t help it. It’s been a long time. I miss you. I ain’t ever thought we’d get back here.”
Silence stretched between us. Thick. Heavy.
“Rhy.”
“Yeah.”
“Can I at least hold you… till you fall asleep?”
“I’m already asleep.”
I almost smirked.
“You weren’t… I know you were waiting on me.”
She shifted slightly, still facing away.
“Is that what you think?”
That hit different.
I exhaled and gently turned her—slow this time, giving her space to stop me if she wanted. She didn’t. I pulled her against my chest, not too tight… just enough to feel her there.
She laid her head on me, but it wasn’t the same. Not soft. Not easy.
“Yeah…” I said quietly.
Rhy lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine—still fiery, just colder now.
“I wasn’t waiting on you,” she said, steady. “I’m tired of waiting on you. I’ve been waiting on you to get your shit together for a long time. Waiting ain’t an option no more.”
That landed.
I swallowed and nodded once.
“Then tell me what you want from me, Rhy.”
Her gaze didn’t move. Not even a little.
“I just did.”
Silence…
I stared up at the ceiling, jaw tight. I wasn’t expecting Rhy to box me in like that… but it is what it is. When I looked down again, her eyes were still on me—steady, waiting.
Ain’t no perfect way to say this. A nigga just gotta say it.
“I’m getting my shit together. You might not believe me… but I am.”
“Noted.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
“Pretty much.”
I let out a breath through my nose. “I know I ain’t got the best track record…”
“At least you acknowledge it.”
“I’m done with the bullshit. Done hurting you.”
She tried to turn her head, like she ain’t want to hold eye contact.
“Nah… look at me, Rhy.”
She hesitated, then her eyes came back to mine.
“When I think about everything I did… I have a lot of regrets. But asking you to be my wife? Marrying you? That ain’t one of them.
” I swallowed, forcing the rest out without sugarcoating.
“I can’t go back and fix it. I wish I could, but I can’t.
All I can do is own it. And I do. Every wrong move I made with you—I regret that shit.
I didn’t feel it then… but I feel it now. ”
Her expression didn’t soften.
“I’m one way in the streets,” I continued, quieter now. “But with you… I ain’t got no problem being real. I wanna fix what I fucked up—if you even give me the chance. Cause losing you?”
I shook my head once.
“That ain’t something I’m built to live with.”
“Why now?”
“Why not now? I ain’t never wanted to lose you. This past year without you… that shit’s been hard.”
Rhy let out a dry laugh that didn’t reach her eyes.
“If it was so fucking hard… why you ain’t come after me?
Not once.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t look away.
“That’s why I second-guess us. I don’t believe what you’re saying.
If you hadn’t been shot—and I hadn’t pulled up to make sure you were straight and handle business—we wouldn’t even be here right now. You’d still be out there doing you.”
She shifted, starting to pull away from me this time—and I let her.
“Let me go, Chauncey,” she said, her voice rising. “This shit is pissing me off. It’s always me fighting for us. Always me trying to prove I belong in your life. You ain’t never shown me nothing different—and I’m tired.” Her chest rose and fell unevenly. “I ain’t got no more fight in me.”
The tears came anyway, sliding down her face as if she hated them.
I reached up, wiping them away quickly, as if I could undo why they were there.
“Please… don’t cry. I swear I ain’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Rhy. I’m sorry I ain’t fought for us as I should’ve.”
She shook her head, pulling back just enough to look at me.
“Sorry ain’t fucking enough.”
“I know,” I said, forcing myself not to look away. “And I ain’t about to make excuses. I should’ve come after you. The day you left—I wanted to. But my pride…” I exhaled, jaw tight. “My pride had me thinking you’d come back. Like it was just another time you were mad and needed space.”
Her eyes didn’t soften.
“But you ain’t come back,” I continued. “And every day after that… that shit sat with me. Ate at me. I tried to fill that space with other women, thinking it would make it easier.” I shook my head once. “It didn’t. It made it worse.”
Silence pressed in again.
“I’ll own everything I did. All of it. And I ain’t asking you to forget. I just…” My voice dropped. “I’m trying to be different. Not just say it—show it. The shit that happened earlier? I was already handling it. But I should’ve handled you first.”
I held her gaze, steady this time.
“I ain’t that same nigga no more, Rhy… but I know I gotta prove it.”
Silence settled between us again, heavy—but different this time.
Rhy’s eyes stayed on mine for a second longer… like she was searching for something she didn’t even trust herself to find.
Then she exhaled.
Her shoulders dropped—just a little.
“I hate how you always know what to say,” she muttered, her voice softer now, but not weak. Not even close.
“I ain’t trying to say the right shit… I’m just telling you the truth.”
She studied me again, longer this time… then shook her head as if fighting herself.
“I shouldn’t be here right now,” she said quietly. “I told myself I was done. I meant it.”
“I know…”
“But…” Her voice cracked just enough to give her away. She looked down, then back at me. “I still love you, Chauncey. And that’s the part I hate most.”
That landed harder than anything she had said before.
I didn’t move. Didn’t rush her. Just let her have it.
She hesitated… then slowly rested her head back against my chest—not like before, not easy… but not distant either.
“Don’t make me regret this,” she whispered.
I tightened my grip on her—careful this time, as if I understood what I was being trusted with.
“I won’t.”
She didn’t respond.
“And I’m not about to keep begging you to choose me.”
“You won’t have to.”
She didn’t respond to that.
But she didn’t pull away either.
And this time… it felt different.
Not like we were going back.
More like we were starting over—just without the luxury of pretending nothing ever happened.
“Can I hold you, Rhy… until you fall asleep?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“Can I kiss you?”
“No.”
I let out a quiet breath. “Why not?”
“Because I know where it leads,” she said, steady. “And I’m not ready to give you that part of me right now. You gotta earn it back.”
I nodded against her, accepting it for what it was.
“Bet.”
Silence settled in again, but it wasn’t tense this time… just quiet.
“I love you, Rhy.”
She didn’t hesitate.
“I love you too.”
I leaned back, resting my hands behind my head. Sleep was the last thing on my mind. I still had one more situation to clean up… one last loose end. After that, I could finally lock in on my wife the way I should’ve from the start. The streets could wait.
Rhy lifted her head, looking up at me.
“Go to sleep…”
Before I could respond, she pressed her lips to mine.
I wasn’t expecting that.
“I’m trying,” I muttered against her.
She kissed me again, slower this time.
“Try harder.”
I let out a quiet breath. “It ain’t that easy.”
Her fingers brushed lightly against my chest.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Us.”
She tilted her head slightly. “What about us?”
I hesitated for a second, then met her eyes.
“You’ll see.”
“Chauncey…” Her voice softened, but it carried weight. “Talk to me. Your mind is loud as hell right now—I can feel it.”
I kissed her again, slower this time, but she pulled back just enough to keep me honest.
“I fucked up,” I said at last. “More than a few times. And I’m trying to get it right… for real this time.” I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. “I picture us… solid, not this back-and-forth. You trust me without second-guessing everything. Me showing up the way I’m supposed to.”
Her eyes stayed locked on mine.
“And yeah…” I added quietly, not rushing it. “I want a future with you. A real one. Family, all that… but I know I gotta earn my way back to even deserve that conversation.”
“If you’re serious, we should do therapy.”
I exhaled, staring up at the ceiling for a second before looking back at her.
“I know what I need to do. Simmy, Coop, and my momma are in my ear, telling me to get my shit together. I’ll do it for you.”
Rhy didn’t respond right away. Her eyes stayed on me, searching.
“Do it for you,” she said at last, quiet but firm. “Not just for me.”
That landed.
“…Yeah,” I admitted. “For me too.”
She nodded once.
“Thank you.”
We didn’t say much after that. We didn’t need to.
We stayed up talking, drifting in and out of silence as night gave way to morning. Somewhere between old memories and quiet truths, the tension eased—just enough to breathe again.
By the time the sun started creeping through the windows, we were still wrapped up in each other. We finally fell asleep around six. Before I closed my eyes, I reached for my phone and sent Simmy a quick text, telling him to pull up with Bianca around noon.