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I pulled back because there was one more thing I had to know.

“So Yonas really did see you that night?”

Caspian’s mouth curved into a slow grin. “Oh, he saw me, alright… every mothafuckin’ bit of me.”

I shook my head. “You scared the hell out of that man.”

“What was I supposed to do? That nigga came into my house, unpacked two damn suitcases, started getting comfortable, and thought he was about to stay under the same roof with my woman. Scaring him was me being nice.”

I scoffed. “Nice?”

“Very. I could’ve done a whole lot worse than float some shit around and let him know he had overstayed his welcome. And I sent his shit out with him because I wasn’t leaving him no excuse to come back the next week talkin’ ‘bout I think I left my favorite shirt over here. Nah, fuck that. Checkout was final, baby.”

I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh harder.

“I’m glad you brought that nigga up. I want you to get rid of that car he bought you.”

I reared my head back. “My Range Rover?”

“Yeah, that mothafucka.”

“But why? I love—”

“I know you do, baby,” Caspian gently cut in. “And I’m not telling you to start catching the bus. You got enough money now to buy another Range Rover, buy two if you want, hell, get one for every day of the damn week. But I’ll be damned if you gon’ keep riding around in something another nigga bought you. Every time I see that mothafucka in the driveway, all I see is Yonas bought my woman this. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my afterlife.”

“The car is in my name. He can’t take it back or use it to make me do anything.”

“I know he can’t take it. That ain’t the point. He can still hold it over your head, bring it up in some future conversation, or use it as another excuse to crawl back around here. ‘Hey, Lakelyn, how the Rover running?’ ‘Need me to get it serviced?’ ‘You still like the car I bought you?’” His face twisted. “Nah. I already know how niggas think. That vehicle got too many potential follow-up conversations attached to it.”

I laughed. “Has anybody ever told you how territorial you are?”

“You have… too many damn times. We established that already, baby.” He leaned closer. “On some real shit, though. I don’t want you driving around looking fine as hell in a six-figure reminder of another man’s feelings for you. That shit don’t sit right with my spirit… literally.”

I laughed harder. “So what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Sell it. Trade it. Give it to Willow. Donate it to somebody’s auntie who been riding around with her check-engine light on since 2019. I don’t give a damn.” He pointed toward the window. “Just get that mothafucka off my property.”

I shook my head, then rested it against him again, listening to the music while his arms held me securely against his body.

That man.

My man.

Chapter twenty-nine

Epilogue

Lakelyn

Ihad one hand stirring a pot on the stove and the other holding my phone against my ear when Nyelle dropped enough tea to make me stop cooking altogether.

“Girl, what?” I turned the burner down and leaned my hip against the counter. “Say that again.”

“I said Yonas is going to jail, girl.”

My mouth fell open. “Wait. You mean, like, jail-jail? Prison?”

“Mm-hmm.”