Maybe.
When the drama died down and night fell on New York City, ex-husband and wife took up to late-night drinking. With whiskey swirling around in his glass, the Patriarch took a seat right beside his ex-wife. He liked the closeness, the smell of her Chanel perfume wafting up to his nose as he discreetly inhaled her scent, whilst pretending to look interested in the brown liquor swimming around in his glass. Things had been going good between them, better than good. They weren't arguing or disagreeing, no mutters of Can't stand yo' ass underneath their breaths. The once-married couple was genuinely enjoying each other's company. Did Lucious dare say it felt like old times? When they were happily married, loving on one another with that teenage perception of love.
"What you did for Jamal..." Cookie trailed, starting up a conversation through the comfortable silence. He peered up at her with a fond smile on his face. "No one else could've done that, Lucious."
"Come on," He murmured, brushing away her praise. It was about time he did something good for that son of his. He'd taken a damn bullet for him without hesitation. That kind of unwavering love and loyalty was something Lucious could never pay. Lucious didn't think much of God, but that boy had a heavenly light to him that Lucious certainly didn't put there.
"You've got me ova' here thinking maybe you aren't the Devil after all," She joked with a cackle.
Smiling, he mused; "What? You think I care about that boy?" Lucious loved that boy with all his might, but he found it hard to express his feelings when it came to his children because he'd grown up unloved the moment his father was murdered. "He makes me a whole lotta money." Almost like second nature, Cookie's hand slapped him in the back of his head, reminding him of old times. Lucious didn't I tell you to take the washing down? Slap to the back of the head. Lucious stop staring at my ass. Slap to the back of the head. Lucious stop calling Jamal a little bitch. A hard smack to the back of the head. He grinned.
"Stap it!" She scolded, eyes rolling to the back of her head at his typical 'I don't care 'bout nobody' response.
"You know I like it when you do it harder." He teased. A hard slap from her heavy-handed ass across the face in the bedroom got his adrenaline going and blood pumping straight to his big friend.
"Oh, God..." She muttered, resting her cheek on her knuckles. His lips curved up, knowing her head was feeling up with those memories, too. Those were some good times. Her thick thighs wrapped around his waist, her lips against his skin with his hand grabbing her meaty ass as he walked them to the bedroom. Her giggle lightening up the room. Oh, Lucious.
"I swear I hope all this crap is over with the FEDs," He grumbled, lifting his head up. Tariq had been personally gunning for him hard like they had some sort of past beef. Maybe he was trying to prove to his bosses that he wasn't above investigating kids from the block he grew up around. Whatever the reason, he'd picked the wrong big fish. "Especially when they come up empty with the grand jury." He stared up at her, gratefully. She promised she'd handle Shine and she did. That's his ride or die. Albeit, she had to invite his slimy ass to their son's wedding and give his nephew an album that Lucious' would ensure would never see the light of day.
"Well, they seem to have backed off." She murmured. "Maybe Tariq The Freak got his wrist slapped." Cookie softly chuckled as she sipped on the neat whiskey.
Lucious found his eyes trained on her once again. Longing and regretful. "You know, none of this stuff would've happened if you'd been around." She was always the one keeping him in line. If he did some shit, Cookie would be the first to call him out on it. She was his ace. His most trusted ally. He missed her. "I was never any good without you."
