Chris Brown's With You played through the car speakers as Kelly drove to the airport, his head bobbing slightly to the beat. He thought about Jane, his beautiful girlfriend of six months. A smile tugged at his lips. He really liked her; she had a calming effect on his usually chaotic life.
The smile faded as he neared the airport. Treon. His brother had been cold toward him for the past three months, and Kelly couldn't figure out why. The only reason he was even here was because Cherise had ordered him to go.
Pulling into the parking lot, Kelly parked and reached for his phone.
Kelly: I'm here.
He tapped send and waited. Five long minutes later, his phone buzzed with Treon's reply:
Treon: Yeah, whatever.
Kelly rolled his eyes. Typical. He glanced out the window and spotted Treon walking toward the car, a coffee cup in hand. Just then, his brother bumped into a blonde woman, spilling the hot liquid all over her. Kelly watched as the woman's face morphed into a scowl and she began lashing out at Treon, gesturing animatedly.
Treon said something, his expression calm yet amused. Whatever it was, it caused the woman's features to soften, and to Kelly's utter surprise, they hugged. What the hell? They looked like old friends—or maybe more. Did Treon have a secret lover no one knew about?
Still watching, Kelly saw the two chat for a while longer before heading toward a nearby café.
"What the actual fuck?" Kelly muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed Cherise.
"Hello?" Her voice came through, soft yet firm—the voice of a woman he now proudly called Ma.
"Treon's trippin', Ma."
"What now?" Cherise asked, a hint of exasperation in her tone.
"You good, Ma?" Kelly couldn't help but ask. Cherise had sounded tired lately, and it worried him.
"I'm fine, baby. Now, what's going on with Treon?"
Kelly sighed. "A'ight, so I'm at the airport now, yeah? Treon was walking toward the car, but then he bumped into some lady, spilled coffee on her, and now they're in a café together, like what the fuck, Ma? He couldn't even send me a decent text."
"You do not cuss with me, boy," Cherise warned, her tone sharp.
"Sorry, Ma."
"Listen, I don't care what he's doing. You go in there and get him. Both of y'all are coming home together. End of story," Cherise said firmly.
"But, Ma—"
"No buts, Kelly. Just do it. We're all waiting."
The line went dead. Kelly let out a frustrated groan and tossed his hat onto the passenger seat. There was no avoiding it now.
He stepped out of the car, the late morning sun warming his skin. Adjusting his jacket, he strode toward the café with a frown etched on his face.
Pushing open the glass doors, he stepped inside. The rich aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air. He could feel the curious gazes of customers flickering toward him as the bell above the door jingled. Ignoring them, his eyes scanned the room for Treon.
There he was, seated at a corner table with the blonde woman, laughing at something she'd said. Kelly clenched his jaw. He wasn't in the mood for games.
"Oh my God, it's Chef K!" A woman's excited voice broke through the low hum of the café.
Kelly ignored the outburst, his sharp gaze scanning the room until it landed on Treon. His brother sat in a corner booth, already glaring daggers at him. Kelly smirked, striding toward the table.
As he approached, his eyes flicked to the blonde woman sitting with Treon. She was stunning, with sunlit hair cascading over her shoulders, sea-blue eyes that widened in surprise as they met his, full lips, and high cheekbones. Something about her tugged at Kelly's memory, a faint sense of familiarity he couldn't place.
Shaking off the feeling, Kelly focused on Treon, who was still glaring.
"You're supposed to text me if you're gonna be on a date," Kelly said coolly, throwing a pointed glance at the blonde. "I was waiting for you in the car."
Treon rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask you to come pick me up."
"Tre—" Kelly began but was cut off by a soft, shy voice beside him.
"Chef K, can I get an autograph?"
He turned to see a young woman clutching a napkin and a sharpie, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
"Sure," he said, offering her a small smile.
The woman handed him the items, trembling slightly as he signed the napkin with his signature flourish.
"Thank you! You're so cute!" she squealed before scurrying off, leaving Kelly amused and a bit bemused.
With a low chuckle, he returned his attention to Treon.
"Let's go," Kelly said firmly, his tone leaving little room for argument.
Treon crossed his arms, his frown deepening. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Kelly's jaw tightened. "You are, and we're leaving now."
Treon opened his mouth to argue, but Kelly leaned down close, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"Let's. Go. Now."
The intensity in Kelly's voice made Treon falter. Without waiting for a reply, Kelly straightened, gave the blonde a polite nod, and strode out of the café.
He climbed into his car, his expression set in stone as he waited. Two minutes later, he saw Treon step out of the café, followed by the blonde woman. She was wrapped in a jacket far too big for her—Treon's jacket, he realized. They exchanged a lingering hug before she turned and walked away.
Treon finally slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with a scowl.
"That's what I thought," Kelly muttered, starting the car.
The drive back to their family house was quiet, but Kelly's mind wasn't. His thoughts circled around the beautiful blonde from the café. Who was she? And why did she feel so familiar?
***
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she paced her living room, her footsteps soft against the newly laid carpet. The events of an hour ago played on repeat in her mind. The way he looked at her, those familiar honey-colored eyes meeting hers, only to turn away like she didn't exist—it stung far more than she had expected. Her chest felt heavy, and she was dangerously close to breaking down when a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
Emily hurried to the door, her hands trembling as she turned the knob. When she opened it, her sister stood there, concern etched into her face. Without a word, her sister pulled her into a comforting embrace.
"Are you okay? What happened? Tell me." Her sister urged gently as they broke the hug and moved to the couch.
Emily sniffled, wiping at the fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "He couldn't recognize me," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Her sister's brows furrowed as worry filled her eyes. "What? Em, start from the beginning. What happened?"
Emily nodded, taking a shaky breath before speaking.
Flashback
Emily Decker walked out of the bustling airport, her eyes scanning the curb for an available cab. Just as she spotted one pulling up, a man collided into her, spilling coffee all over her pristine white cashmere sweater.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, glancing down at the spreading stain. Her frustration bubbled over as she looked up to confront the careless stranger.
"I'm so sorry," the man said, his deep voice carrying genuine remorse.
"You should've been more careful," she snapped, dabbing at the sweater with little success.
She finally looked up to see him clearly—a tall, strikingly handsome man with smooth brown skin, a mustache and a full goatee, full lips, and piercing brown eyes. Something about him was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
"I can't walk around like this," she muttered, gesturing to her ruined sweater.
The man stood frozen for a moment, his brows furrowing as he studied her intently.
"Aren't you going to say something?" Emily demanded, annoyed by his silence.
His expression softened, and he spoke cautiously. "Emily?"
Her breath hitched. "Who's asking?" she countered, wary.
"Emily Royce," he said again, his voice tinged with disbelief.
She narrowed her eyes. "I said, who's asking?"
The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. "It's me, Treon. Treon Earnshaw."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Treon?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The one and only," he said with a grin.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. He returned the hug, holding her close, and for a moment, the years melted away.
"God, I've missed you, Em," he said softly, breaking the hug.
"I've missed you too," she admitted, a smile tugging at her lips despite her ruined sweater.
"Sorry about the coffee," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.
"It's alright," she replied, though the smile she gave him didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Come on," he said, motioning toward a nearby café. "Let's catch up."
She nodded, following him inside.
They found an empty booth, and Treon gestured for her to sit. "Can I get you something? Coffee, maybe?" he asked, his tone warm.
"No, I'm fine, thank you," she said, her gaze lingering on him. Treon had grown up, and the years had been kind to him. He was no longer the boy she'd once known but a mature and confident young man.
The silence stretched between them, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken words.
"So," Treon began, breaking eye contact and clearing his throat, "how have you been? It's been… what? Nine years?"
"Yeah," Emily replied, her voice quieter now. "Nine years."
"You look amazing, Em. Even more beautiful than before. And your eyes…" He hesitated, his smile soft. "They're darker now."
Her cheeks warmed under his gaze. "You've changed too. You're a man now—a very handsome man. You're… what? Twenty-three?"
"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod.
Before Emily could say more, a woman's excited shriek pierced through the café. "Oh my God, it's Chef K!"
The name rang a bell, but Emily couldn't process it as her attention shifted to Treon's expression. His face darkened, and he glared at someone approaching from behind her.
She turned to see him.
There he was, Kelly Woods. Her Kelly. Except he wasn't just Kelly anymore—he was Chef K, the man whose culinary show she had followed religiously. The man who had stolen her heart years ago.
He looked striking in his black Louis Vuitton ensemble. His honey-colored eyes—once so warm—met hers with no recognition. It was as if she were just another face in the crowd. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
Kelly turned to Treon, his voice calm yet commanding. "You're supposed to text me if you were gonna be on a date, Treon."
A date?
Emily's breath caught as she stared at him, her mind spinning. Could he really not recognize her?
"Em? Emily." Treon's voice jolted her out of her spiraling thoughts.
"Huh?" she said, blinking.
By the time she refocused, Kelly was gone.
Treon offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry about Kelly, but I've got to go."
"It's fine," Emily said softly, masking her hurt.
They exchanged numbers, and as Treon draped his jacket over her shoulders, her heart felt a little lighter.
"It's too big for you," he joked.
"It's cute," she replied, forcing a smile.
As she watched him walk away, climbing into a sleek black car, the weight of the encounter settled over her. She pulled out her phone and dialed her sister's number.
"I need you," Emily whispered when her sister picked up.
End of Flashback
Back in her living room, Emily wiped at her tear-streaked face, her sister's warm hand on her shoulder grounding her.
"You'll figure this out," her sister said softly.
But Emily wasn't so sure. How could she move forward when the one person she had loved the most didn't even remember her?
"Everything's gonna be fine, Em." Cara assured her crying sister, not so sure herself everything was going to be fine because they didn't know how the rest of the Earnshaws' were going to react to the news of them being in town.
_N