22. Vines of Passion

Xion and Caleb confront past grievances and untangle a web of lies spun by Jasmine, leading to a tumultuous showdown.

XION

Mr. Jenkins’ old ass was laid up in the hospital bed, all wired up, monitors beeping and tracking every beat after they zapped his heart with that Electrical Cardioversion thing. Supposed to be a quick fix for his jacked-up heartbeat after a whole day of fasting. They said he'd bounce back quick, be back to his old self, chewing Jasmine out for every little thing I’m sure.

But where was Jasmine? She made a big deal about us needing to be here for her father, and now she’s ghost. So here I am, all by myself while the kids are back at the house with her mom. I’m half-watching one of these court shows on this little-ass TV, feeling Mr. Jenkins’ mean-ass stare drilling into me while I pretend not to notice.

“Where’s Jasmine?” Mr. Jenkins’ voice boomed, cutting right through the verdict I was trying to catch.

Now how was I supposed to know if this dude had to cough up cash to his neighbor because his 11-year-old took a joyride and slammed into the front of his house? This was some riveting TV he just interrupted.

Old annoying ass…

“I ain’t sure, Mr. Jenkins,” I said, not taking my eyes off the screen, feeling his glare like ice picks.

“How long till she gets back?”

“Dunno,” I muttered, barely holding back my annoyance since I had the same question. “Ain’t heard from her.”

“You don’t know where your woman is?”

“You don’t know where your daughter is?” I shot back, finally locking eyes with him.

He was about to clap back with his bitter old man nonsense when the door flew open. In stormed Jasmine, hauling a giant-ass Panera Bread bag, cutting him off before he could get his words out. Thank God!

“Oh Daddy! You’re up!” Jasmine beamed at her old man as she dropped the Panera bag on the table, starting to unpack. “I got you some soups. They said to start light with eating, and I figured you were hungry. I brought a variety since I wasn’t sure which —”

“Panera Bread? You couldn’t get some real food? Some real down home cooking.” her father grumbled.

Ungrateful ass.

I shook my head, standing up to help Jasmine sort through the bag, but what she’d brought back was straight-up weak.

“What’s in there for me?” I asked.

“The Grilled Cheese,” she replied with a stupid ass smile.

“Grilled Cheese?” My frustration flared. “You treatin’ me like one of the kids? I’m a grown ass man, Jas. I need a real meal,” I told her.

“So go buy one!” her father snapped back. “Didn’t you just get a promotion? Shouldn’t be too hard to afford your own meal now.”

Motherf…

“Everybody relax,” Jasmine cut in, her voice steady as she handed the soup to her ugly ass daddy.

Mr. Jenkins scowled at the container. “You left all that time just to bring this back? Could’ve just ordered something from downstairs and saved yourself the gas.”

Inside, I was feeling the same vibes, but damn, this dude needed to take it down a notch.

“You could just say thank you,” Jasmine shot back, her tone trying to mask how deflated she felt.

I felt bad for Jasmine sometimes. Ever since she’d gotten with me, nothing she did ever cut it for him, and usually, I’d jump to her defense, but not today. Not after she disappeared for an hour and came back with a damn grilled cheese like I’m some preschooler. But the sandwich debacle would have to wait—I had more pressing things to discuss.

“Jas, lemme holla at you in the hallway real quick,” I said, pulling open the door and stepping out, knowing she’d be right behind me.

Jasmine hesitated for a moment, giving her father a look that said she'd be right back before following me out into the hallway. The door shut behind us, muffling the sounds of the TV.

Once we were alone, I leaned close, keeping my voice low. “Jas, what’s up with you today? You leave me hanging with your dad, who can’t stand the sight of me, then you come back with some kid's lunch? What's going on?”

She sighed, leaning against the cool wall, her face weary. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just... everything with Dad is so messed up. I wanted to get something quick and get back. I didn’t think...”

Jasmine was nervously adjusting her sweatshirt, pulling her sleeves down over her wrists. That's when I noticed the faint marks still there. Damn it man. I hadn't realized I'd gripped her so hard during our spat on the balcony. She bruises easy, but that was on me, and I felt like shit about it. I never wanted to hurt her; I loved her too much for that.

"Sorry about that again," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

She glanced up from the floor, meeting my eyes briefly before looking away again.

"It's fine, I know you didn’t mean it," she murmured.

I wasn’t convinced she was okay, so I gently lifted her chin with my index finger, making sure she had no choice but to look at me.

“We good, Jas? You ok?” I asked, eyeing her closely.

“Always,” she replied, pushing out a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. That forced grin set off all kinds of alarms in my head.

"Did you only go to Panera, or somewhere else?" I asked, holding her gaze.

"Just there," she replied quickly.

I narrowed my eyes, skeptical. The restaurant was only a five-minute drive from the hospital. Something didn’t add up. She was holding something back.

"Why you always lying, Jas?" I asked, cutting straight to the chase.

"I'm not, I just…I needed to clear my head, so I went for a drive too. That’s why it took so long," she confessed.

I tilted my head, studying her every expression, trying to gauge if there was more she wasn’t saying.

Suddenly, I felt a chill, like someone's gaze was boring into me. Turning to my right, there Caleb was, standing down the hallway, looking like some kind of stalker with his hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes locked on us. Jasmine gasped like he'd just jumped out of the bushes. What the hell was this now?

"Go sit with your father," I told Jasmine, releasing her but keeping my eyes fixed on Caleb.

"Xi—"

"Now," I cut her off, voice hard.

Jasmine's eyes flicked between Caleb and me, her face pale as if she'd just seen a ghost. She hesitated, then turned and hurried into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"Sup?" I called out to Caleb, nodding slightly as I braced myself for whatever this was about.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, his voice even.

“Guess so, but you wanting to talk to me... how'd you know where I was?” I asked, suspicion edging my voice.

“Come on, Xi,” Caleb smirked with an arrogant shrug.

Asshole. I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should even step closer, but something about the situation made me feel like it was okay to approach.

Caleb wasn’t no thug, but he could be creepy as hell sometimes. How did he actually know I was here? Down to the floor I was on. I know he's deep into his tech stuff, and I never got how all that worked. Dude’s a damn nerd, for real under all those pretty boy looks that girls fell for.

“What you want with me, fake ass Denzel in Safe House... always thinking you CIA and shit?” I cracked a joke, trying to lighten the mood.

Caleb chuckled, and for a second it was like the old days—us just throwing jabs and laughing it off, never taking things too serious. But times had changed, and I’d messed things up between us. So what the hell did he want to talk about now?

"Brother to brother," Caleb said, locking eyes with me, and that hit different—it made me raise an eyebrow.

That phrase was sacred between us, something we coined back in high school when we had some real heavy stuff to unload and didn’t want to feel weak or judged as guys. It was our way of saying, "This is serious, I need you," and it meant we were about to drop all the fronts and really listen to each other.

The first time we busted out that "brother to brother" phrase, both our worlds were flipping upside down. My Pops was trying to slide back into my mom's life, leaving me on the sideline because he never could stand me. Maybe he thought my mom having me pulled her away from him, 'cause after I came around, she started seeing things different, making smarter moves—like dumping him and eventually moving us out here for a better life.

And Caleb, his drama was just as heavy. His cousin Valentina, who's more like a sister to him, was going through some serious health scares. The doctors were all confused, throwing around the big C-word. Dude was terrified she was gonna die on him without them even figuring out what was up. Thank God, she pulled through.

As for me, Pops decided to bounce back to the East Coast where he came from, letting me and my mom do our thing and build the life she dreamed of for us out here. It was rough, but me and Caleb, we had each other's backs through all that madness.

Man, it had been over five years since I last heard those words from him. Hearing it now almost brought tears to my eyes because I thought our brotherhood was done, that all we had left was bad blood.

But here was Caleb, reaching out like that, which only meant something deep was up. All my defenses fell away in that moment, and I found myself walking towards him, ready to hear him out like in the old days. This was more than just a casual chat; this was about reconnecting on a level I thought we'd lost for good.

We posted up against a brick wall in the parking lot, side by side, just taking it in.

"You good, man?" Caleb asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah," I responded, eyeing him, still confused about why we were here or what we needed to hash out.

"Thought you said everything was good with Jasmine," he pressed, an accusing tone in his voice.

That got me on edge. I pushed away from the wall and crossed my arms. He was here to talk about Jasmine? To me?

"We straight," I said, bending the truth a bit. My plan was already set to pull out of Napa the next day, to keep my woman away from his ass.

Out of nowhere, Caleb’s fist connected with my jaw. A sucker punch? For real? Shock jolted through me, and I stumbled, scrambling to regain my footing before I lunged at him, and we started scrapping right there in the parking lot, like we were back in high school on the wrestling mats.

"This how you hit Jasmine?" Caleb grunted, landing another blow to my ribs.

"What?" I gasped, the wind knocked out of me.

I had no idea what he was on about, but I was ready to throw down over this, no question. Typical Caleb, hitting when you least expect it—sneaky as ever.

"You putting your hands on Jasmine!" he shouted, as we both crashed to the concrete.

“Caleb, what the fuck man!”, I said blocking my face, “What the fuck are you on?”

“You’re beating on Jasmine and now the marks you’ve put on her, she’s going around saying I did that shit!”

“Ain’t nobody beating, Jasmine!”, I screamed for my life with the bit of energy I had left. “Fuck are you talking about, man?”

Caleb’s weight pressed down hard on my chest, and for a moment, the air felt thick, suffocating. I grappled for control, my hands fighting to block his next punch. The grit of the concrete scraped against my skin as I shifted, trying to leverage my way out from under him. This motherfucker was giving me a run for my money in his Mr. Rogers ass outfit. Back in the day I would’ve whooped his ass, but my Dad Bod was too out of shape for this shit.

"Man, get off me!" I managed to spit out, my lungs burning for air. His fist hovered above, his eyes burning with something fierce and painful, something beyond just anger.

"Talk, Xi! You hurt her? You lay hands on Jasmine?" Caleb's voice was tight, each word loaded with accusation.

"Nah, man, you got it all wrong!" I protested, struggling beneath him. I pushed at his chest, trying to unseat him, my mind racing, not just from the fight but from the confusion. Where was he getting this? I loved Jasmine, even if things were complicated, even if we fought hard sometimes—there was a line I hadn't crossed.

With a grunt, I managed to twist us to the side, loosening his grip. We rolled, the cool air hitting my face as I found myself now hovering over him. My breaths came heavy, each one mixed with frustration and desperation. "I ain't never hit Jasmine, Caleb. You think I'd do that to her? To the mother of my kids?"

He stared up at me, searching my face for the truth, his body tense, ready to spring back into action at any doubt. He twisted us again and I ended up back under him. I held his gaze, willing him to see the sincerity, the shock—I was not that guy.

Finally, his expression shifted from hardened anger to a troubled confusion. He relaxed his body slightly, his hands loosening their grip on my shirt.

"We gotta stop this, man," I said, my voice hoarse, both from the scuffle and the emotions choking me up.

Caleb's face started to lose that fiery rage as he heard me out, his clenched fist loosening even though he was still perched over me, ready to go another round.

“Jasmine has bruises on her, you had to be the one to do it!” Caleb said, laying it on me. “She’s lying on me, saying I did that to her when we talked in the bathroom!”

My head was spinning, not just from the tussle but from this bomb he just dropped.

“You talked to her in the bathroom? What—”

“That night at the restaurant, when I texted you.”

“Caleb, what the fuck?”

“Man, you clueless, ain't you?”

“Who the fuck you calling clueless?” I spat back, finding enough juice to shove him off me and onto the concrete.

We both sat on the cold ground, chests heaving, staring each other down in a mix of anger and confusion.

“Spit it out, man!” I demanded.

“Jasmine snuck into the vineyards today...” Caleb started.

“The fuck?” My mind raced back to that long stretch she left me hanging with her miserable ass Daddy.

“Yeah, and then she showed my girl some marks on her wrists talking 'bout I put them there when we were in the bathroom together.”

“What the hell were you doing in the bathroom with my woman?” I snapped, my voice rising.

“Man, I was just trying to take a leak when she barged in, locked the door and everything trying to corner me,” Caleb explained.

So that was the full story of what went down that night she came back all stressed and wanted to smoke. Everything was starting to add up, and my temper was climbing.

“I didn’t touch Jasmine, at all. So if she got those marks, you must’ve done it,” Caleb shot back, looking at me like I was the lowest.

I ran my hands over my face and laid back on the concrete, staring up at the sky, wishing I could burn out my damn eyes because I had seen too much.

“Jasmine came back from that dinner on some other shit, Ca. She didn’t say nothing about talking to you, I didn’t know she even ran into you until you texted. But I ain’t know about no bathroom,” I confessed, my voice cracking with embarrassment. “She slapped the shit outta me, so I grabbed her wrists to stop her from hitting me again and shoved her inside so she could cool off and get away from me.”

I finally looked over at Caleb, whose expression was hard to read.

“On my kids, that’s what happened. I ain't never hurt Jasmine. Sure, I grabbed her a bit tight to stop another slap, but that’s it. I don’t lay hands on my lady.”

Caleb’s face softened as he looked away, scanning the empty parking lot.

“She lied on me, told my girl I did that during some big argument that never happened,” Caleb revealed. “And she made up some texts too, like I was out to kill her. She was always good at Photoshop,” he added, frustration clear in his voice.

“So you came to fight me over that?”

“What was I gonna do, fight Jasmine? You’re her man, I came to see you.”

“You could’ve talked first instead of swinging,” I said, sitting up, resting my arms on my bent knees. “You know she told me she went to Panera that whole damn time she was out? I knew she was lying,” I shook my head in disbelief.

Caleb looked at me, serious now, the emotion raw in his eyes.

“Brother to brother...” he began, “I think Jasmine needs help.”

I closed my eyes, not wanting to accept that. I'd seen the changes in Jasmine, especially after the twins were born. Maybe it was depression or anxiety; she was always on edge, barely keeping it together except for work and the kids where she was a natural. I thought maybe a better job for me, a little help around the house might give her some relief, but with her family distant, barely talking to her outside of work and us out of state, she had no breaks.

I opened my eyes and looked at Caleb. “Yeah, man. Something’s gotta give.”

Caleb shook his head, a mix of anger and disbelief painting his features.

"Man, she's out here accusing me of laying hands on her, making up texts like I'm trying to off her...I just hope she ain't spread that nonsense to anyone else. Naomi came to me up right away, thank God. She knew it didn't sound anything like me, but that still didn't explain the bruises..." He paused, his gaze locking on me with an intensity that said he was still trying to piece it all together. "Even if Jasmine is my ex wife, and I want zero romantic or even friendly ties, she's still a woman and the thought of anyone physically hurting her...I can’t let that happen."

I exhaled deeply, frustration and a bit of hurt swirling inside. I looked Caleb straight in the eyes, needing him to really hear me. "Brother to brother, you know I would never."

My voice was firm, underscored with the sincerity of the bond we once shared, a reminder of the respect I carried for him and for Jasmine, despite everything that had gone down.

"This is some straight-up bullshit," I muttered, shaking my head at Caleb, disbelief written all over my face.

"Man, you gotta get her some help, for real. She’s got some deep issues.I don’t know what’s going down, but this can't all be about me."

"It ain't, with your conceited ass," I snapped, clicking my teeth in frustration. "But I'm telling you, being here is making whatever it is worse."

I let my head drop, feeling the weight of the whole messed-up situation.

"You want me to come up and talk to her with you?" Caleb offered reluctantly, exhaling a heavy sigh.

I could tell he wasn't keen on the idea, but he was willing to step up for me, for Jasmine. Despite everything that had happened, deep down, the bond we had wasn't completely shattered. It was fractured as hell, barely hanging on, but somehow still there.

"Yeah, you could at least do that after sucker-punching me," I snapped back at Caleb, my tone sharp as the edge of a knife.

We just stared at each other for a minute. I could ask how we ended up here, but deep down, I knew the score. I did some foul shit, man. I betrayed my boy, messed up Jasmine's head in the process, and now here we were—years gone by, yet when it really came down to it, we still remembered who we used to be before I messed everything up.

Jasmine…well, she seemed like she never really bounced back from the path I put us on.

Caleb and I helped each other up and dragged our bruised and dusty selves back to up Mr. Jenkins' room looking like who done it and why?!

"What the hell happened to you two?" Mr. Jenkins barked out as soon as we barged through his recovery room door after a silent ride up the elevator.

"Jasmine, we need to talk," I said, ignoring him and fixing my gaze on my woman who looked like she was about ready to jump out of her skin at the sight of me and Caleb together, probably figuring her game was up and it was time to face the music.

Before I could say anything else, the door swung wide open. Officer Franklin who I knew as Frankie growing up, busted in, scanning the room like he was hunting down a fugitive. Still a fucking square.

"What's up, Black Cop?" I greeted him, a smirk playing on my lips as I nodded to me and Caleb’s old high school buddy. "You still keeping the peace in the vine-covered streets of wine country? Ol Top Flight Security of The World lookin’ ass…"

Franklin narrowed his eyes and looked at me like he wanted to put a cap in my ass.

"Franklin, what are you doing here?" Mr. Jenkins grumbled.

Franklin's gaze drifted over me and Caleb—both of us dirty, our clothes disheveled, looking every bit like what we had been through. His eyes then shifted to Jasmine, who he knew used to be Caleb's, but was now with me, and then to her ugly ass overbearing father propped up in the bed next to her.

"A fight was reported in the parking lot," Franklin’s square ass said, his eyes flicking between Mr. Jenkins, me, and Caleb. "...someone thought it was you two going at it. So I came to investigate, see if an arrest needed to be made."

"Ain't nothing going on but a regular conversation between brothers," Mr. Jenkins chimed in dismissively, waving a hand between me and Caleb as if to brush off any concern. "Say, don't you have a cat to save off a roof or something, Franklin?"

Franklin kept his suspicious gaze on us, then it landed squarely on Caleb. "Well, I saved him 5 years ago, guess I couldn't do it today," he shrugged.

Caleb and Franklin burst out laughing, clearly vibing on some inside joke I wasn't privy to.

"The hell are you talking about?" I interjected, confused and irritated, as I glanced between Franklin and Caleb.

They both ignored my question and continued to share a chuckle between themselves.

"I’m talking to y'all," I asserted, trying to pull their attention back.

They continued to ignore me.

"Next time you two want to hash it out, do it at home and not at a damn hospital," Franklin finally said once he got himself together, his voice firm.

"Franklin, tell your father I'll see him at The Club next week," Mr. Jenkins cut in, all smiles suddenly. "I’ll be in tip-top shape by then, back on the green," he added, miming a golf swing, his mood visibly lightening at the prospect of getting back to his usual routines.

"Alright, Mr. Jenkins," Franklin said, realizing this standoff wasn't going anywhere since no one was fessing up to anything. "Y'all take care," he added, tipping his hat like some old-school sheriff before heading out the door.

We all just stood there for a sec, sizing each other up in silence, until Mr. Jenkins finally cut through the tension.

"Still getting into trouble together like when you were kids," Mr. Jenkins muttered as he tried to sit up, shaking his head in disbelief. "Not a damn thing's changed."

Out of nowhere, Caleb dropped a bomb. "Mr. Jenkins, Jasmine needs some kind of help or support... something."

I shot Caleb a look, like, 'Man, what are you doing?' but he just shrugged it off.

I mean, I knew we rolled up here to have a real talk, but this wasn't the game plan. Our mind-reading skills clearly ain't what they used to be, 'cause why the hell would you kick it off like this? But, fuck it...

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Jasmine, who was already shrinking under her father’s disapproving gaze.

"Jasmine, I know that me and you didn’t start things off right," I began, her dad rolling his eyes, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me. "You lost a lot messing with me—your husband, your lifestyle, your family..." I said, my eyes flicking to her father then back to her. "I don't know if you’re spiraling from a broken heart, grief, or maybe some postpartum stuff I read about on a pamphlet downstairs, but something’s off, and we need to address it."

Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of embarrassment and a silent plea for understanding, as the weight of everything we’d been through hung in the air between us.

"I could be handling how I talk to you better these last few days, but damn, Jasmine, you've been wildin' since you got back home. I'm gonna keep it 100 with Caleb standing right here..." I locked eyes with her, steady and serious. "This man doesn’t want you. It’s over."

Jasmine sucked in a deep breath, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"Starting beef with his girl, following him into the bathroom, and now you’re out here spinning lies about him abusing you and threatening to kill you?" I pressed, my tone heavy with disappointment.

Jasmine's mouth dropped open in shock being called out like this.

"What?!" Mr. Jenkins erupted, turning his shocked gaze from me to Jasmine.

"Look, Mr. Jenkins, I ain’t saying all this to give you more ammo against her. You haven’t been any kinder to her these past couple years, either. I know you’re heated about her messing up your good times with Caleb, but she needs you, man. She misses you," I continued, my voice softening a bit. "And I need you to step up and treat her like your daughter again, no matter how disgusted you are with me. You gotta stop punishing her."

Mr. Jenkins looked like he was ready to go off, but something in what I said hit home. He paused, his face tight with conflict, but he didn’t have a comeback. Actually, I think it even got to him, made him feel a bit guilty.

I swung my gaze back to Jasmine, needing to lay it all out. "You need to let me know right now. Do you want to be with me or not? If yes, then all this drama with Caleb has gotta stop, for real. You gotta let that man go, and we'll get you the help you need to heal properly. If not..." I paused, my voice catching as I tried to firm up my stance, though inside my heart was cracking, "then you gotta tell me straight, so I can move the hell on with someone who actually wants me. I'm gonna live my life, but you know I'll always be there for our kids."

At that, Jasmine just broke down, tears streaming, her whole body shaking.

"Either option doesn't include me," Caleb chimed in, his tone resolute and final.

I was itching to smack him upside his head, but deep down, I knew Caleb had to lay it out like that, and Jasmine needed to hear it straight. Still, this whole situation was embarrassing as hell not just for Jasmine, but shit…me too.

"First off, Jasmine, you owe Caleb a major apology," Mr. Jenkins started in, his voice softer than usual but the words heavy. "Falsely accusing him of such serious crimes? Why?" He shook his head, disappointed. "Those are serious allegations..."

Looking at Jasmine, you could tell she felt small, like she wanted to disappear right there. But, real talk, she'd been running too many games, and all that mess needed to be aired out now if we were ever gonna move past this.

"I'm sorry, Caleb," Jasmine sobbed, her voice slow, muffled by the hands covering her face.

"What if Naomi had believed you?" Caleb's voice cracked, showing just how deeply the thought wounded him.

"I'm just... I've been so sad... for so long," Jasmine's voice broke as she continued, tears streaming down her face. "And coming here... seeing her... she looked so happy with you, like she was living the life I used to have, and it just... it made me so angry," she admitted, laying bare her pain.

Hearing that stung, and even Caleb shifted uncomfortably, the air thick with tension and regret.

"Jasmine, you chose to step outside our marriage... those are your consequences to deal with, not mine... and definitely not Naomi's," Caleb responded, his tone trying to balance firmness with a touch of sympathy, mindful of her fragile state. “But, seeing you like this…”

Caleb drifted off, words failing him for once. I guess it ain’t every day you find yourself trying to comfort your ex-wife who cheated on you with your best friend. And here he was, trying to help her get it through her head that what they had was history, and she needed to quit harassing him and his new girl. This whole situation was straight-up bonkers.

"Yeah, he came over here ready to throw down, thinking I was laying hands on you," I chimed in, trying to drive home the point that despite everything, Caleb still showed up because he cared about her well-being.

She slowly removed her hands from her face, looking up at us both through her tears, the weight of her choices and our words visibly settling on her shoulders.

"Glad you're handling this right away before it blew up even more. Imagine if he sued you for defamation," Mr. Jenkins threw in, his voice carrying a hint of relief but also a warning.

Jasmine just covered her face again, overwhelmed by the weight of the situation.

"Now that everything's clear with Caleb," Mr. Jenkins continued, glancing at Jasmine before shifting his gaze to Caleb, "maybe you should head out, son, let them sort out the rest."

"Sounds like a plan," Caleb agreed.

He straightened up his lame business casual attire and paused, his hand on the door handle. It was awkward as hell. I hadn't really talked to the man in five years, and here we were after a sit-down, a couple of text spats, and even throwing hands.

Despite all that had gone down, deep down, I still had love for Caleb, and that stubborn fool probably still cared about me too. Damn, we were still brothers. Ain't nothing really changed.

I held my fist out to him. He glanced between me and my fist a couple of times before finally giving it a bump.

"It’s still 'fuck you, Xi'," he muttered under his breath as he walked out.

"And fuck you too," I shot back with a grin, closing the door behind him.

Turning back around, I realized I still had to deal with the pieces left in this room. The family drama wasn't over yet.