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I had just pulled up to the Four Seasons Hotel New York Downtown when I realized how fucked up this whole situation really was.

My little brother was back at my crib.

Sleeping in one of my guest rooms.

Eating my food.

Walking around talking about how his wife was eventually gonna forgive him.

Meanwhile, I was pulling up to a hotel in Tribeca to spend the night with said wife.

Shit was almost too fucking ridiculous to be real.

I handed my keys to valet and got out.

Sam’s parents had all four kids for the night.

Winter break had started, and apparently with everything that had come out about Xay over the last five days, nobody gave Sam shit when she said she needed one night away from everybody.

Her mother took the kids.

Her father told her to go clear her head.

And I happily obliged.

I booked us a suite.

Dinner downstairs if she wanted it.

Room service if she didn’t.

I wasn’t really pressed either way.

I just knew when Sam told me earlier that she needed to get away for a night, my first response had been:

Say less.

By the time I got upstairs and opened the suite door, she was already there.

“Nigga, damn.”

Sam looked over from where she was standing near the windows.

“What?”

I shut the door behind me.

“You.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Boy, please.”

She had on one of those big-ass white fluffy hotel robes, tied loosely around her waist, and from the amount of leg showing underneath it, I already knew she ain’t have shit on under there.

Her hair was freshly done too.

Them boho braid shits.