The pair have reunited almost three weeks after Brown, 19, allegedly battered the “Umbrella” singer on Feb. 8, a source tells PEOPLE. “They’re together again. They care for each other,” says the source. The on-again couple are currently spending time together at one of Sean “Diddy” Combs’s homes, on Miami Beach’s Star Island. Adds the source: “While Chris is reflective and saddened about what happened, he is really happy to be with the woman he loves.” In its latest issue, PEOPLE reports that Brown called Rihanna on her 21st birthday one week ago. “He called to wish her happy birthday,” a source told the magazine. “They’ve reached out to each other. It’s been mutual.” Brown was booked by LAPD for making criminal threats but the case has not yet been presented to the District Attorney, who will ultimately determine which charges, if any, will be prosecuted.
What could possibly possess a woman to take back a man who harmed her beautiful face? If nothing else pride and vanity would have kept me very far away. The fact that the whole world knows he whopped my ass alone would be enough to keep me from running back to him. Apparently love is strong enough to make some women lose their pride.
Don't get me wrong, my opinion has always been that if woman puts your hands on a man, then she deserves what she gets. The general consensus is that Rihanna started the fight by hitting him while he was driving, but damn! Did he have to beat her like they were competing for a heavy weight boxing title?
I don't know about Rihanna, but the only reason I would take back a man who beat me to a pulp is for REVENGE. First of all, I would make him believe that I forgive him and all is well, then when the time is right I would slip some really potent sleeping pills in his drink. After I assure myself that he was truly unconscious by administering a swift kick to his balls, I would get me a baseball bat, or a metal pipe of some sort; and beat him black and blue! Afterward I would snap a couple of pictures of his busted lip to be sent to TMZ. Finally, I would write him a short dear john letter, glue it to his forehead, and leave his sorry ass once and for all. The letter would go something like this:
Do not be alarmed, you are not dead. If you feel like you don't know where you are it's because I drugged your ass and took you to a place where we can be alone. The discomfort that you feel is caused by the baseball bat I used to break your legs, a few ribs, your jaw, your nose, and a couple of your teeth. As you know, I am not a monster, so I left you the arm you're using to read this letter. You may also use that very arm to call for help. Good luck with your recovery, and forget my name and number.
you know who, and you know why!