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Hot or Iced Conversations

Sun, 05 Apr 2026 15:07:14 GMT

Hot or Iced Conversations

It was Sunday morning. Two weeks since I'd spoken to Layla. Two days since I responded to Russel's texts. And somehow, both silences felt different. Spring had officially arrived, but the rain outside blurred the excitement. The gray skies pressed against my windows like a mood I couldn't shake. I wasn't in the mood for Pilates. I wasn't in the mood for conversations. I wasn't even in the mood to pretend. I stayed in my pajamas. Kept my hair wrapped in last night's scarf. But no matter how I feel, I will always make my bed. It's a ritual I refuse to neglect-one small way I can still show up for myself, even when everything else feels... off. I made my way into the kitchen, moving slower than usual, and reached for one of Noir Lux Coffee's Spring Collection blends. As it brewed, the smoked rich chocolate aroma wrapped around my apartment, softening the edges of my mood. Coffee has a way of doing that. I stood there, staring at my options-hot or iced. Somehow, even that felt like a decision I didn't want to make. By the time I finished my waffles and eggs, I settled on iced. A splash if hazelnut syrup, a slow stir, the sound of ice clinking against glass. Simple. Familiar. I turned on the TV, flipping through shows without really watching any of them. Just letting the noise fill the silence. Then my phone rang. Layla. I stared at her name for a moment before answering. "Hey..." her voice was softer than I remembered. "Hey," I replied, matching her tone. "Can I come over?" she asked. No explanation. No buildup. Just... can I come over? Something in her voice told me not to ask questions. "Yeah", I said. "Come." About thirty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Layla stood there looking... different. Not physically-but emotionally. Like something had been taken from her. I stepped aside and let her in without a word. She sat on the couch, hands folded tightly, eyes scanning the room like she was trying to find the right place to land. "Do you want coffee?" I asked gently. She nodded. I poured her a cup over ice, just how she liked it, and placed it in her hands. She held it but didn't drink. "I had a miscarriage," she said. Just like that. No warning. No cushion. The words dropped between us, heavy and final. My body stilled. "I didn't even know how to call you," she continued. "It felt... bittersweet. Like part of me was relieved... and the other part felt guilty for feeling that way." Her voice cracked. "I didn't love him, September. I didn't want that life with him... but it still feels like I lost something." I moved closer to her, wrapping in my arms around her without thinking. Grief doesn't always come from love. Sometimes it comes from what could have been. "I'm here," I whispered. And for a while, we just sat there. No advice. No fixing. Just presence. Eventually, she pulled away, wiping her face. "I missed you," she said quietly. "I missed you too," I admitted. There was a pause-one that felt like it was holding more than just her pain. Then she looked at me. "Have you talked to Russel?" I shook my head. "Not really." She hesitated. And that hesitation felt familiar. "What?" I asked. Layla exhaled slowly. "I wasn't going to say anything today... but I don't think you should be the last to know." My chest tightened. "Know what?" She looked down at her cup before meeting my eyes again. "I saw him." Everything inside me went still. "Saw him...where? I asked carefully. She swallowed. "With her." The rain outside suddenly felt louder. And just like that... my quiet Sunday wasn't quiet anymore and my mood was right where it started.

The Things That Finally Made Sense

Sun, 22 Mar 2026 18:06:01 GMT

This is a subtitle for your new post

It was Sunday. Just like any other Sunday- except I woke up in Russel's bed. 7:34 AM. And for the second morning in a row... he was nowhere to be found. No text. No note. Nothing. I stared at the ceiling, letting the silence settle in a place that felt all too familiar. The kind of silence that doesn't feel peaceful- it feels intentional. And suddenly, I didn't feel rested. I felt aware. As I laid there, my mind stared wandering. I wonder if there's something I should be paying attention to. I wonder if there's something I've been choosing not to see. I wonder if this is the beginning of a pattern... or something I've been ignoring all along. The more I wondered, the more I felt something shift. The thought came quietly, but it stayed: Maybe I want to be single. Not because I don't enjoy the company of a man- I do. Especially one that smells good, feels good, knows how to be present when he wants to be. But I don't enjoy the mental discomfort. The gut feeling. That quiet voice that whispers, something isn't right. Because if I'm honest- 9.5 times out of 10... we be right. I got out of bed and gathered my things. Our sleepovers were still so new, I didn't even have a presence there. No drawer. No toothbrush. No side of the bed that felt like mine. The longer I stood in his apartment, the more I realized... I couldn't see myself there. And that's when it hit me. Maybe Russel and I were exactly what we looked like- a glass half full. Not empty. Not full. Just... incomplete. Back home, I put on a full pot of Noir Lux's coffee. This morning felt like it required more than one cup. I ran the shower, laid out a cute athleisure set, and plugged in my earbuds. As I listened to Sarah Jakes Roberts speak, her words felt like they were reaching directly for me. Sometimes clarity doesn't come loudly. It comes right on time. By the time I stepped out of the shower, I felt different. Not healed- but decided. I had a vision for my life. For the kind of love I wanted. For the kind of peace I refused to negotiate. But clarity is fragile. Because the moment I walked into my Pilates class, took a few sips of my coffee, and saw a face I hadn't seen in weeks- Everything paused. Layla. I had two choices. Ignore her. Or put my pride to the side. I chose to ignore her. The tension was thick. Unspoken. Lingering in every stretch, every breath, every glance I avoided. Forty-five minutes later, there we were. Face to face. She greeted me like nothing had happened, pulling me into a hug. "Hey girl, how have you been?" "I 've been fantastic," I replied-quick, polite, closed. I had no intention of going deeper. But Layla did. "Can we talk?" she asked. And honestly... I needed the distraction. Back at my apartment, I poured the brewed coffee over ice. The clink of the cubes echoed in the silence between us. As she sipped, I could tell something was sitting heavy on her chest. Then it fell. A tear. And then the truth. "I'm pregnant," she said. My body froze before my mind could respond. "By Chris." Everything inside me went still. She continued, her voice shaky but certain- she wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing. And then she said something that shifted everything I thought I knew. "The flowers... the ones that kept showing up at your door..." She paused. "They were from Chris. Not Russel." I blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to catch up to reality that suddenly felt rewritten. All this time... I had attached meaning to gestures that didn't belong to the man I thought they did. And just like that, everything started to make sense. The inconsistency. The silence. The confusion I kept trying to soften. Maybe there was no mystery to solve. Maybe Russel wasn't layered- maybe he was exactly who he'd been showing me he was. And maybe... I chose to fill the blanks with hope. I leaned over and hugged Layla, holding space for a situation I couldn't imagine for myself. To carry a child by a man you never loved... That kind of reality doesn't need advice. It needs presence. For the rest of the day, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb. But more importantly- I put my heart there too. Because sometimes clarity doesn't come to comfort you, it comes to correct you.

To be continued...

When Comfort Crosses the Line

Sun, 15 Mar 2026 14:01:42 GMT

When Comfort Crosses the Line.

It was Sunday, and there was absolutely nothing on my to-do list except to relax and reset. I decided to get a head start by filling the tub with warm water. "Hey Siri," I shouted, "play Deja Vu by Beyonce." As the tub filled, I poured in my current favorite strawberry-and-mint body wash, lit a few candles, and brewed a cup of Noir Lux Coffee's Lace and Pearls. I was honestly trying to finish the bag quickly so I could move on to the newest blend from their March collection. Sipping slowly while soaking in warm water felt like therapy. But even therapy has interruptions. As I carefully sipped and soaked, my mind drifted to Layla. It had been two weeks since I'd heard from her. At first, I tried not to overthink it. But silence has a way of growing louder the longer it lingers. I was concerned for her safety -but if I'm honest, I was also frustrated by her lack of communication. When the bathwater cooled to lukewarm, I pulled the drain and wrapped myself in the softness of my routine. I lathered my skin with matching strawberry-and-mint body butter, coated my face with coconut oil, and slipped into a silk strawberry-printed pajama short set. Comfortable. Soft. Mine. I slid my feet into my slippers and walked into the living room, manually turning off the music to shift the mood into something quieter. As I reached between the couch cushions searching for the remote, I heard a clicking at the door. Before I could process what it meant, the door opened. Russel. "Hey babe, I brought Thai food," he said casually, stepping inside like this was our usual routine. I froze for a second. Trying desperately to hide my irritation, I walked over, kissed him, and grabbed the drink carrier from his hands. He looked genuinely happy to see me, and for a moment, I didn't want to ruin that. So, I adjusted my energy to match his. I grabbed two plates to serve the food, but before I could even turn around, he had already made himself comfortable in the living room -scrolling through Netflix and digging into his meal straight from the container. No grace. No pause. No explanation. Just... comfortable. I stood there holding the plates, unsure of what expression was even on my face. I plated my food anyway, but my appetite disappeared the moment I noticed his keys resting next to the peanut soup. And there it was. My apartment key. Dangling from his key ring like a decision I made too quickly. Regret crept in slowly. I tried to stay calm, but suddenly everything began to bother me. His shoes were still on. His bag was on the chair. The rhythm of my apartment-the one I had carefully built-felt interrupted. Everything looked out of place. Everything felt wrong. I took a bite of my shrimp and rice, but the spice in my throat couldn't compete with the pressure rising in my chest. Then he asked the question. "Is everything alright?" "Mmmhmm," I murmured. But it was a lie. Showing up unannounced wasn't alright. Assuming access to my time wasn't alright. Making plans for my Sunday without asking wasn't alright. And suddenly, exchanging keys didn't feel symbolic anymore-it felt invasive. My blood was boiling, and I couldn't tell if it was from the heat of the food or the realization creeping in. Comfort without boundaries isn't love. Sometimes it's just intrusion. And sitting there across from Russel, I realized something unsettling. This Sunday wasn't peaceful anymore. It was testing me.

The Echo of a Question

Sun, 01 Mar 2026 20:23:30 GMT

The Echo of a Question.

It was the following Sunday, and Russel's question still lingered around my apartment like an echo. Why don't we have a key to each other's place? I had two options. I could ignore it- the way I ignore most questions that require me to unlock parts of myself I keep sealed for emotional safety. Or I could invite him over... and face the discomfort of being magnified. I headed into the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and stared at myself a little longer than usual. I've been consistent with my morning routine. Disciplined. Intentional. But today's rain interrupted my walk, so I shifted to plan B- Pilates. Before getting dressed I sent Layla a text. Fifteen minutes later, no response. I told myself not to overthink it, but I still replayed our last interaction in my mind, searching for a tone shift, a hidden offense, something I might have missed. Silence and space has a way of making you question things that were once clear. Downstairs at the studio, the room felt different. More crowded. More curated. Every woman looked the same. The same black yoga mats, the coordinated athletic sets, and those trending ass headbands. Even women with pixie cuts had one. I couldn't help but to think, sis what hair is falling in your face? I rolled my grey mat out anyway, slipped in my earbuds, and got into position. Thirty-five minutes later, I walked out proud. Grounded. Light. I'd forgotten how empowering Pilates could be- how it forces you to hold your own weight, to breathe through the shakes, to stay steady when your muscles are begging you to collapse. In the elevator, I caught a scent of Russel. Then I felt his warm hug. Not really. But in my mind, I did. The thought of him wrapped around me like a warm hug. I almost did it. I almost reached for my phone and texted him right there. I almost said let's talk. But adult conversations require adult courage. Exchanging keys feels invasive. Exchanging feelings feels irreversible. Next thing you know, we would be sharing spaces and to me that feels like surrendering independence. And I've worked too hard to build mine. When I got home, my thoughts turned into questions. Why do we lose pieces of ourselves when we find someone to love? Why does commitment feel complicated? Why does falling in love feels more like a compromise? To quiet the noise, I took a hot shower, slipped into comfortable pajamas, warmed up last night's steak and potatoes, and curled up on the couch to finish the final episode of Bridgerton. Somewhere between longing stares and the orchestral R&B covers, I drifted off. I woke to my phone buzzing. Russel. Can you come over? I think we should talk. I stared at the message. My heart didn't race. It was at ease. Unsure how deep this would go, I replied with two coffee cup emojis. I was out of to-go cups, so I grabbed two ceramic mugs and made salted caramel lattes - his favorite. If we were going to talk, we were going to do it with comfort. When I knocked, he opened the door with a smile so wide it softened everything. He reached for one of the mugs, saving me from spilling it as he pulled me inside. I laughed and leaned in to kiss him. We climbed into his bed with our coffee- steam rising between us. And then we talked. Not defensively. Not dramatically. Not with ultimatums. Just comfortably and honestly. We talked about space. About fears. About independence. About what a key really means. And somewhere between sips of salted caramel foam and questions finally answered. I realized something. Deerp conversations aren't as heavy when they're with someone who wants to understand you. Whoever said vulnerability makes you weak has never felt safe enough to open up. Because in that moment, wrapped in warmth and truth, I didn't feel like I was losing myself. I felt seen. And maybe that's what coffee and love supposed to feel like.

To be continued...

A Sunday Worth Repeating

Sun, 22 Feb 2026 22:45:03 GMT

A Sunday Worth Repeating.

It was a Sunday I would put on repeat. The kind that makes self-care feel less like a luxury and more like a requirement. This Year, I promised myself I'd get serious about my financial goals. Which looks like home- cooked meals, at home mani and pedis and most importantly... at-home lattes and capuchino's. Because how did a cup of coffee go from $4.50 to $6.75? Like be serious. Speaking of coffee, I was excited to finally try Noir Lux Coffee's Desire blend. Lace and Pearls had been sold out all week. After a productive Friday of working from home and deep- cleaning every corner of my apartment, my personal space reflected my mind space. Clear. To set the tone, I lit every candle on every counter and table and made my way to the kitchen to butter my bagel. Maple bacon, egg and cheese. Simple. Quick. Satisfying. As I sat at the counter eating, a thought crossed my mind. What if men didn't exist? Would women be lonely? Would we still soften our voices? Would we still lean into our femineity? I smiled at the thought. I enjoy the company of a man. I do. But the company of myself has always felt... better. As warm water filled my foot spa, I chose a pretty blue gel polish. The name was even sweeter than the color-Powder Puff. I slipped into a baby pink lingerie slip, because why not? I layered my face with an avocado mask and shouted, "Hey Siri, play Beyonce- Me, Myself and I." Before dipping my feet into the bubbles, I needed something warm. Something indulgent. Something that matched the mood. A classic salted caramel latte. Extra caramel, with steamed milk to add the perfect texture to a cup. Myt latte art heart came out almost symmetrical this time. Progress. I carried my cup and saucer to the living room, lifted the blinds to let the beautiful sunlight flood my space. I sank into the couch, feeling completely unbothered. No stress. No social obligations. No FOMO. Just me and my coffee. That peace lasted until my phone buzzed. Russel. It sat on the kitchen counter, lighting up, waiting. And for once, I didn't feel the need to rush and answer. I wanted to protect this moment. I wanted to finish choosing myself. So, I did. I moisturized. I polished. And before I could even allow my hands and toes to completely dry, there was a knock at the door. I couldn't pretend I wasn't home with Cater to You by Destiny's Child playing loud enough to give me up. So, I tipped toed to the door carefully fanning my hands. Russel stood there, amused and fine as ever. He leaned in, kissed me softly, and stepped inside like he belonged. Out of the blue, he asked a question I wasn't ready for. "Why don't we have a key to each other's place? The air shifted. Because a key isn't about convenience. It's about full access. It's about permanence. It's about trust. And suddenly, my perfectly peaceful Sunday felt like it was requesting something from me.

To be continued...

Love that's right on time.

Sun, 15 Feb 2026 23:56:29 GMT

Love that's right on time.

It was Sunday, and as I sat at my kitchen counter eating grits, bacon, and eggs, something finally settled. The entire week had passed in pure silence from Layla. No hey girl texts. No random check-in calls. Nothing. And honestly- I was okay with it. I didn't need distractions this weekend. I needed space. I'd been journaling more, sitting with myself more, listening instead of reacting. February has a funny way of doing that to you. It's the month of love, and sometimes we're so focused on giving love and waiting to feel it in returned that we forget to turn inward. To love ourselves. To romance ourselves. This weekend was dedicated to the most important person in my life- me. With Valentine's Day just days away, I wanted my space to reflect how I wanted to feel. I dug through my coat closet, pulling out every red, pink, and mauve accent I owned. As I scattered them throughout my apartment, something shifted. I felt feminine. I felt safe. I felt held. With my floor covered in decor, I paused to make a cup of coffee. I still had a few beans left from the bag Layla brought over. Noir Lux Coffee had really been on time with this launch. Lace and Pearls were next on my list after Love Me, Love Me not surprised me in the best way. Who was I? Instead of a hot cup, I went with an iced fudge brownie latte. The aroma filled my apartment like something baked with love. As I sipped, I swapped out the couch pillows, replaced all of the candles with peaches-and-cream scents, and hand-washed my Valentine's mugs and glassware. I placed my ice coffee on a marble, heart shaped coaster and smiled. My apartment looked how I felt. Lovely. "Siri, play Beyonce-I'm That Girl," I shouted. I shook my iced coffee as I noticed the caramel slowly sinking to the bottom, when my phone rang. Layla. She explained her silence-how she realized how I was right about her not really being into Chris and so she decided to end things with him. She asked about my Valentine plans. Since Russel and I hadn't discussed anything, I told her I was free for a Galentine's night of food, drinks and no expectations. Not long after we hung up, my phone rang again. It was Russel. With a FaceTime call. I wasn't ready to be seen. I ran to the bathroom, snatched off my headscarf, added a soft pink lip tint, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my loungewear. "Good morning, beautiful." he said. "Good morning," I replied smiling more than I meant to. We talked forty-five minutes checking in with each other and about our Valentine's Day plans. Truthfully, I hadn't planned on spending the day with him or Layla. I wanted to be alone. But who doesn't enjoy getting dolled up for a man as fine as Russel? As I finished the last sip of my iced coffee, my thoughts drifted. Was Galentine's really just for lonely women or was it simply another way to love your girls out loud? Does the timing of a Valentine's invite measure a man's interest? Or do we just accept the invites because we're desperate for someone to want us? Do the single women ever get tired of waiting? Somewhere between love and frustration, I landed on the simplest truth. The easiest love is the love we give ourselves. It's unconditional. It's uncomplicated. And it's always right on time. And how I planned to enjoy this Sunday was just enough.

To be continued....

Silent Coffee Sips

Sun, 08 Feb 2026 17:43:09 GMT

Silent Coffee Sips.

Sunday morning came quietly, but my thoughts didn't. I was already dressed, already tidying up, already waiting when there was a knock at the door. Layla stood there holding a matte black bag from Noir Lux Coffee from the "Coffee for One" Collection- like an offering. "I came bearing apologies," she said with a small smile. I stepped aside and let her in. We moved through the kitchen comfortably, the way women do when the friendship is real, but the air is slightly off. I brewed the coffee while Layla leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone, filling the silence with her presence. The aroma filled the room-warm, indulgent, familiar. We sipped slowly, catching up om surface-level things. Work stress. A mutual friend's breakup. The kind of conversation that avoids anything sharp. Until I brought it up. "I was surprised to still see Chris last Sunday," I said casually, eyes fixed on my mug. Layla froze. Just for a second- but long enough. "Oh yeah?" she asked a little too quickly. "Yeah," I continued. "I thought once you canceled, it was going to be just me and Russel. Layla took a sip of her coffee, buying time. "I didn't think he would be here". I nodded. "I didn't either. "Silence settled between us, thicker than before. Then she looked at me- like really looked at me. "So let me ask you something," she said. "Do you like Chris?" The question landed heavier than I expected. "What?" I laughed lightly. "No- why would you even-" "September" she interrupted gently. "Just answer." I hesitated. Not because I liked Chris-but because the question forced me to examine something I hadn't quite looked into yet. "He's a nice guy, but he's not my type." I said carefully. "And to be honest, I didn't think he was your type." Layla raised an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by that?" I sighed. "He's not my type meaning; I don't like him." But she pressed. "And..." "And I didn't think he would be your type either, given that you're into women more than you are into men." Layla leaned back in her chair, studying me. "So that's what you think?" "I mean, you don't really notice men like that." I spoke. "And you do huh?" "With all of the unfinished ones you've encountered." I looked at her stunned. She softened. "I'm not judging. I just...I didn't know if you were open to something different. Or if you were just filling space." "You know, I'm still trying to figure Russel out," I said quietly. "I don't want to repeat old patterns. But I also don't want to rush into something just because it feels safe." Layla nodded slowly. "That makes sense." We sat there, coffee cooling, truth hovering. She added. "I didn't mean to put you in an awkward position September; I just wanted to come here to make it up to you." " You did, " I said softly, lifting my mug. "You showed up." She smiled. As she finished her last sip and gathered her things to leave, I realized something unsettling. The coffee wasn't the reason Layla came over. She came to ask the question. To question her real interests within her relationship? And now that I have spoken my truth... She can't pretend to not hear it.

A table set for confusion

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 01:38:08 GMT

A table set for confusion.

Sunday arrived with a restlessness I couldn't ignore. I tried lying in bed, but my thoughts wouldn't let me stay still. I was anxious-in that anticipatory, fluttery way- for Layla and I double date. Well... not necessarily, we're all just getting together at my place. I had no idea what I was cooking, and I had absolutely no time to romanticize it. I threw together a quick bacon, onion, and cheese omelet, got dressed, and rushed to the grocery store. Somewhere between the produce isle and the deli, I logged into Pinterest for dinner ideas. The menu came together quickly. Steak and garlic potatoes with butter roasted asparagus. A Caeser salad as our appetizer. Chilled red and white wine. And peach cobbler for dessert. Simple. Intentional. Grown. While standing in line, I thumbed through Martha Stweart Living, completely mesmerized. The level of detail. The patience. The nerve to think someone wants to spend their afternoon folding napkin into swans. I snapped a quick picture of the easiest page to replicate. "Am I invited?" The voice was low, it was deep, it was close, it was too smooth. Startled, I turned to my left and found a tall, bronzed man with a clean bald head with an easy smile. Without thinking, I flirted back. "Of course- only if you bring extra dessert." The moment the words left my mouth, Russel crossed my mind. I fumbled with my keys, half from my shyness, half from the cashier's painfully slow scan rate. "David," he said with his hand extended. "September," I replied, shaking it. He smirked. "Yup it's meant to be. My birthday is in September." I laughed at how cute he sounded. "So is mine." I responded. And just as I assumed he followed with, "Can I call you September born in September? He made me laugh again. I told him I'll call him. As he typed his number into my phone, I already knew I had no intentions on calling him. I loaded my car in a rush. Tonight needed to be perfect. Back home, while the steaks cooked, I brewed a cup of coffee and put on Beyonce's Dangerously in Love. I arranged some fresh flowers on the table, butter pecan cappuccino in hand, dancing softly through my kitchen. Then my song was interrupted by a text message. Hey babes, I'm sorry- I won't be able to make it tonight. Something came up. I won't lie; it pissed me off. But at least she told me. No problem. Make it up to me over coffee☺️ I replied. I cleared Layla and Chris's place setting. Something shifted and so did I. Instead of the cute dress I'd planned, I slipped into a sexy mauve number that matched the flowers and the tablescape perfectly. If the night was changing, so was my mood. Four hours later, I waited for Russel. A knock at the door. Wine in hand, heart light, I opened the door. "Oh... hi Chris." Confusion flooded my face. "I thought Layla couldn't make it, " I said quickly. "Yeah, she texted me," he replied easily. I handed him the wine and invited him in. Silence stretched between us-thick and awkward. I had no idea how I'd explain this to Russel. And just like that, another knock. Russel pulled me in the very moment I opened the door; he kissed me softly and pleasingly. There was no time for explanations. Once everyone settled, I turned on music to soften the edges. Russel's confusion mirrored mine. "When is Layla getting here?" he asked. Chris explained her absence- again. Two hours passed in disjointed conversations and forced laughter. Eventually, Russel decided it was time for Chris to leave. I offered him a to- go plate, hoping he'd take the hint. He did. Russel's body language screamed questions, but instead he said quietly, "Chris has feelings for you." I stayed silent. To redirect the energy, I asked if he was staying the night. "No," he said firmly. "Grab a bag. We're staying at my place." Cloud nine. I packed quickly, locked my door, and left with Russel-leaving behind an imperfect table set.

To be continued...

When comfort becomes questionable.

Sun, 25 Jan 2026 18:19:10 GMT

When comfort becomes questionable.

It was now Sunday morning, the apartment felt too quiet. The kind of quiet that follows intimacy- not the romantic kind, but the reflective kind. The kind that forces you to sit with your own thoughts. Russel had spent the night, and now he was gone. Not abruptly. Not coldly. He kissed my forehead before leaving, pulled the blanket over my shoulders, and told me to text him when I woke up. I didn't. I found myself in an odd state of mind or should I say emotion. I was beginning to run from what I thought I wanted. I once questioned his actions and now, I'm questioning my own. Him showing up should've been enough. But consistency doesn't arrive loudly, it steeps in like a French pressed cup of coffee. I stood in the kitchen, staring at my phone. I wanted to text but part of me wanted to brew in clarity. I begin to make me a cookie butter latte with vanilla cold foam but there was little to no heavy whipping cream, so I substituted for whipped cream instead. It wasn't perfect but what is? The flowers that Russel bought over last week were still fresh, still beautiful, but the thought of them felt heavier than before. I took another sip of my latte before settling down on the couch. Comfort had always been Russel's strength, it's what I craved whenever he would disappear. Now look at me becoming Casper the friendly ghost himself. I took another sip and began to ponder on what I deemed to be perfect. I replayed that weekend piece by piece. The bath, the soup, the way he held me like I was his. And yet when I'm given the things that I quietly asked of a man, I question the consistency, I question the reality. Clarity has a way of pulling the curtains back on patterns we've been decorating. I saw how Russel showed up time after time. I wasn't sure if I was afraid of letting him all the way in.

Say Less

Sun, 18 Jan 2026 19:19:08 GMT

Say Less.

It was the first Sunday of the new year, and so far I'd been proud of myself. I was checking things off my to-do list, easing into the idea of becoming more intentional. What wasn't on my list was getting sick. Since Friday, I'd been feeling under the weather. Today, I couldn't pull myself out of bed. I stared at a pile of clean clothes for almost fifteen minutes. It stared back at me, unbothered. My phone buzzed somewhere near me. I didn't have the strength to lift my head, so I slid my hand across the bed, hoping to feel it. When I finally found it, I saw two missed calls from Russel. I called him back. "Hey, is everything okay? I haven't heard from you," he said the moment he answered the phone. "Yes," I responded, my voice weakened. "I'm just extremely sick." "Okay, say less. I'll be over in a few," he said, with urgency wrapped in every word. I barely managed a faint "okay" before the call ended. Immediately, my mind spiraled. Brush your teeth. Clean the room. Take a shower. At least put on a little makeup- just enough to look presentable. A million thoughts, none of them realistic. I didn't have the energy to do any of it. About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. In my mind, I answered it effortlessly. In reality, I was still curled up in bed. I forced myself to stand, my body was damped with sweat as I shuffled towards the door. embarrassment settled in before I even turned the doorknob. When I opened it, Russel wasn't empty handed. "Damn, baby... you look like shit," he said half joking, half concerned. "Let's get you cleaned up." He sat me on the couch and moved through my apartment like he's done this before. Gathering my things, opening drawers, making decisions on my behalf. As he ran my bathwater, my mind got stuck on his words. DAMN,BABY... Did that mean something? Did it mean more? I stopped trying to process it. When I reached the bathroom, he had not only ran me a bath but a bubble bath. He even dropped in one of my lavender bath bombs. I shivered as I eased into the tub, warmth and calm wrapping around me instantly. For the first ten minutes, I just laid there, silent. As I washed up, I could hear Russel rummaging through my kitchen with pots and pans clicking together. When I finished, I dried off and found a cozy pajama set laid neatly on the counter. That bath changed everything. I brushed my teeth. Did my five-minute makeup. Slicked my hair into a high ponytail. I felt human again. The scent of chicken and garlic filled the air. My nose was still stuffy, but it slowly cleared as he handed me a steaming peppermint mocha latte. "Keep warm with this while I finish your soup," he said with calm and authority in his tone. I sat on the couch, hands wrapped around my mug, watching him make soup from scratch. Impressed. I was sick-but it didn't dull my feelings. In that moment, everything felt perfect. He felt perfect. And like clockwork, my thoughts pulled me back. I remembered the complications that came with wanting him. The things that I knew battled the things I was seeing. Russel took my coffee and replaced it with a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup- loaded with onions, celery, corn, and crackers. Every bite was comforting. "How are you feeling?" he asked, reaching down to massage my feet. Everything inside of me felt settled, but I answered carefully. "I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you for all of this." What I wanted to say was no man has ever taken care of me like this. Instead, I chose to say less. We talked for hours about our goals for the new year. Dreams. Intentions. Possibilities. Then he asked the question that made my chest tighten. " Can we do more of this?" I couldn't tell who was more complicated- him or me. I didn't know if this was something that would last based on the past. But in that moment, wrapped in warmth and care, I answered honestly... or maybe conveniently. "Yes," I said softly. "I would like that." For the rest of the day, we said less. We laid there. He kissed my forehead. We cuddled. We binged a new Netflix show. And for now, that was enough.

To be continued...

Uncertainty before clarity

Mon, 12 Jan 2026 02:50:42 GMT

Uncertainty before clarity

It was the Sunday after Christmas, and I couldn't have been more excited- or optimistic about the new year. I didn't know exactly what I was looking forward to. I had no plans, no resolution, no expectations. I just wanted to sit inside the energy of fresh start and let it meet me where I was. Like any other Sunday, I began my day with the excitement of trying a new coffee recipe. I slipped out of bed and made my way into the bathroom, easing into my weekend morning skincare routine. As I stood at the mirror, reading my affirmations out loud, I felt myself realigning with the woman staring back at me- the one who deserves a life worth living. Gratitude came easily. I'm blessed. I'm financially disciplined. I have a career that allows me to pay my bills comfortably. I get the opportunity to wake up in a high-rise apartment. I'm surrounded by a small circle of friends I truly love. And then, out of nowhere, a familiar thought crept in- quiet but heavy. My life is beautiful... except when it comes to love. That part stills feels complicated. Unclear. Undefined. Not wanting to sit too long in that space, I moved quickly through the rest of my routine, slipped into one of my new cozy pajama sets, and made my way into the kitchen. Instinctively, I fluffed my flower arrangement on the counter. It had become a ritual- something grounding about fresh blooms greeting me in the mornings. I set my coffee machine to my latte preferences and reached into the cabinet for one of the mugs Layla gifted me for Christmas. It was heavy, stone-textured, and wide enough to display latte art- the kind of mug that makes you want to slow down and sip. Today's recipe was a Vanilla Teddy Graham latte, something I'd saved from Noir Lux Coffee's Instagram. While it brewed, I opened the blinds to let natural light pour into the room. I lit a few warm scented candles and grabbed the notebook I'd recently started using as a creative outlet. When the coffee finished brewing, I slowly walked back into the kitchen, romanticizing the pour. French vanilla and cinnamon intertwined in the air, wrapping the room in comfort. Instantly, the mug warmed my hands. I could help but to take a sip. It was the creamiest cup of coffee I'd ever made. My latte art wasn't perfect- the heart I poured came out a little deformed- but it made me smile anyway. It sparked something in me. A small sense of pride. Creation. And possibility. I placed my mug on a coaster and began to write. A few minutes in, my phone buzzed. Russel: Hey September, do you want to bring the new year in together? I stared at the screen longer than I wanted to admit. The message didn't feel bad- but it didn't feel clear either. It added to the uncertainty I'd been trying to gently avoid. My response came easier than my honesty. Yes! What I wanted to ask was different. Like, what are we doing? Where is this going? Why does everything feel undefined? After the conversation ended, a realization settled in quietly- almost like a resolution I didn't plan on making. This year, I want clarity. I want consistency. I want to entertain people and situations that feel right, not confusing. As I reached the bottom of my Vanilla Teddy Graham latte, I finally understood something I hadn't been able to put a finger on. I didn't want to chase clarity any longer. I want it to meet me- naturally, honestly, and without questions. And for the first time in a long time, this felt like a new beginning which was the right place for me to begin.

Last minute of Joy

Sun, 04 Jan 2026 12:41:37 GMT

Lats minute of Joy

It was the Sunday before Christmas, and my holiday spirit had been low. Work deadlines were being rushed ahead of the break, emails piling up faster than I could respond. And as the only child- with barely any cousins to grow up alongside, the quiet adulthood felt louder this time of year. It also didn't help that my apartment held zero signs of Christmas decor. Not a twinkle of light, not a scent of cinnamon, and not even a simple stocking. I quickly showered, completed my 5-minute makeup routine, and slipped into an all-black athletic two-piece. Nike sneakers tied tight, I layered on a long black and white houndstooth coat and headed out, I was in hopes that moving around would help shift my mood. My first stop was HomeGoods. I browsed through the leftovers of mismatched Christmas ornaments, boring printed wrapping paper, an incomplete set of wine glasses, plates and bowls. Through it all, I was happy with what I found. And then I saw it. The espresso machine. The same one that had been sitting in my online cart for over a month. Without hesitation, I grabbed it along with every barista gadget. Then a few cozy pajama sets. A perfume giftset for Layla. A few candles. Decorations. Anything that caught my eye. My cart filled quickly, scratching the shopping itch that I didn't realize I needed to soothe. Next stop: At Home. I wasn't expecting much but there it was. The smallest Christmas tree left in the store. Not bad for fifty percent off. Loading the tree into my backseat. I smiled to myself. Maybe last-minute shopping isn't so bad after all. On my way home, I made one final stop at Noir Lux Coffee. I wanted a bag of beans to brew through the holidays-something warm, indulgent, nostalgic. I wasn't sure how the energy would feel if

I saw Chris. And then I did. Chris was sitting with Layla. My chest tightened for just a second, but I pushed through it. I refused to make things awkward-especially not now. I walked over, calm and composed. "Hey, you guys," I said. "I'm having a small Christmas party this Thursday at 12:00 PM. If you're interested, you're more than welcome to come." They both smiled. They both said yes. and just like that I grabbed my coffee beans and headed home. Back inside, I unpacked my new espresso machine, brewed a Cookie Butter latte, and pressed play on a classic Christmas playlist. As music filled the room, I decorated my space slowly and intentionally. The little tree was perfect, it glowed, the apartment softened. The energy shifted. I felt it.

Joy. So joyful that I lit a gingerbread- scented candle, slipped on a peppermint face mask, and ran a bubble bath using my new gingerbread and vanilla body wash. Warm water. Delicious scents. Peace. Joy. For the first time in weeks, I felt settled. Then my phone chimed. Russel: Can I spend Christmas with you? With wet thumbs and a heart that didn't over think this time, I replied: Yes. My place. 12:00 PM. Last minute shopping. Last minute party planning. Apparently, that was all I needed to find my Christmas spirit. And maybe- this holiday was about to change everything.

To be continued

Will you invite love in?

Mon, 22 Dec 2025 18:29:28 GMT

Will you invite love in?

This Sunday felt like a fresh restart. I woke up on the right side of the bed, determined to honor the quiet momentum I've been building. I washed my bedding and comforter, I loaded the dishwasher, I tidied up the living room, swiffered the floors until everything felt clean and refreshed. I even had time to add a new mirror affirmation. I wrote in all caps...LOVE WILL FIND ME. As I did my skin care in the mirror, I couldn't help but to read the affirmation over and over. The more I read it, the more my confidence wavered. I begin to question it. What if love had already found me...and I just didn't know how to let it in? To get out of my head, I laced up my sneakers and headed out for a quick run. The December air was perfect, my playlist was loud, Rihanna's Pour It Up pushed my pace forward. After a good sweat, I slowed down to catch my breath. Only seconds away from slipping into a full-blown panic attack that I didn't see coming. I paused my music, just in time to hear Russel say "Good morning, September. It's good to see you." My face responded before I could, my eyes were locked on Russel's eyes, my heart pounded 100 beats per second. Trying to regain my composure and play it cool, when nothing about me felt calm. "Oh, hi Russel." "I've been wanting to reach out," he admitted. "I just didn't know if you wanted me to." He was right, I didn't. I wanted to erase Russel and his baby daddy activities out of my life-and yet, here he was. "Reach out for what? my tone was sharp and necessary. "To give me a baby shower invitation? He winced, then quickly asked, "can we go to your place and talk?" As much as I hated the idea, I also wanted just that. As we stepped off the elevator, we were met with a sight that shifted the air between us. A fresh bouquet of flowers sitting neatly at my doorstep. The silence stretched, heavy and undeniable. In that moment, I knew the mystery flowers weren't from Russel. Inside, I placed them on the kitchen counter and asked if he minded if I freshened up. His discomfort was visible. "Sure," he said. While the water ran, Russel wandered the apartment, noticing the calm, the cleanliness, the absence of his chaos. With no card attached, Russel considered asking questions he wasn't ready to hear the answers to, but he chose silence instead. He joined me in shower. Mentally, I was caught off guard but physically, I had accepted his intrusion as a silent invite. Russel was more present than he had ever been. As he lathered up my body, his tongue followed the soap suds. Pinned under the shower, Russel kissed me passionately. He was slow, he was gentle. As hard as he was, he was disciplined. He dried me off like a baby. A closeness born of history, confusion. Neither one of us knew what to name this moment. Fully dressed and on the couch, Russel finally spoke. "Sophia lost the baby." The words landed heavy. I said nothing... I couldn't say anything, so I leaned into him, offering a hug that carried grief, relief, and guilt all at once. Russel shifted, unable to sit in silence. "So... now what?" he asked. Tears felled before I could stop them. "I don't know." I whispered. He wiped my face, stood, and said softly, " when you figure it out... you know where to find me." I watched him walk out the door. In the quiet that followed, I moved to the kitchen and brewed a cup of coffee. I turned Pour It Up back on, wrapped my hands around a peppermint mocha, and rearranged the new flowers on the counter. I didn't know what I felt. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know if i should invite love in. But one thing for certain, I knew I was asked a question that I wasn't ready to answer.

To be continued...

Espressos and Convos

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 01:44:42 GMT

Espressos and Convos

It was finally Sunday-the kind of Sunday that reminds me to keep my promise to myself as well as to my coffee date with Layla. It was 11:15am and I was still pushing through my Sunday rituals. Soft music, light cleaning, light stretching and most importantly, skincare. And finding what to wear just wasn't on the list of to-dos. "Alexa, what's the weather today?" 60 degrees. Perfect. I reached for a pair of light-blue denim jeans, while whispering a quiet prayer that they still fit. They did! I slipped into a forest-green chunky knit sweater and my white pointed toe booties-cute, festive, and definitely giving off cozy vibes. Feeling optimistic about December, I made my way to Noir Lux Coffee. The moment I walked in, the scent of peppermint and freshly baked holiday cookies gave me a warm welcome. It smelled like Christmas had come early. It was my turn to order, and I had already made my mind up that I wanted to try the Peppermint Mocha latte. But before the words could leave my lips, the barista at the counter smiled and said: "Welcome back, September. We have a special order for you". I paused. Layla must have ordered ahead. "Okay... thank you." I said as I made my way to the seating area. Layla wasn't there. Odd but not alarming. I settled into a cozy corner with a marble table and two plush love seats. Seven minutes passed... and then Chris walked up. "Hi September," he said, warm but calm. "I have a Christmas Cookie latte for you." The drink looked delicious-steaming hot, crowned with whipped cream and dusted with red and green sprinkles. "Hi Chris-and thank you, I replied. "How have you been?" "I've been great. It's great to see you again." Before I could say anything else, Layla chimed in. "Hey babes, you look cute, what did you order? Caught off guard, I lifted the cup. "I... thought you ordered this Christmas Cookie latte for me." We both froze, with confusion written across our faces. Moments later, another waiter arrived with Layla's drink. "Peppermint Mocha, excellent choice Layla." he said before placing a perfectly made latte in front of her. As soon as he walked away, Layla leaned in with excitement. "Girl... I think Chris is cute. real chill. I'm kind of into him." I blinked, stunned. Confused. Connecting the dots that I didn't even know were dots. Did Chris send the Christmas Cookie latte? And if so... why? I smiled and replied, "Honestly? You should shoot your shot. He's your type." Hours passed as we talked about our personal lives. It all made sense now that Layla finally admitted she was bisexual. I didn't judge; if anything, I felt even closer to her. It was honest. Like our lattes, unexpected and surprisingly good. After leaving the coffee shop, the walk home was full of laughter until Layla dropped a question that I wasn't prepared for. "Have you heard back from Russel?" I paused, pressed the elevator button to my floor and simply said: "Nope." We both laughed. Once inside my apartment, the silence felt louder. I didn't want to fall back into old patterns, I didn't want to crave chaos, but my mind wandered anyway. The flowers last week. Today's latte, the timing, the tone. The look in Chris's eyes. What if it wasn't Russel at all? What if it was Chris? I sat on the couch, the lights dim, my sweater still holding the scent of peppermint. For the first time, I didn't know what or who to think about. But one thing that was for certain: This was the beginning of a fresh start.

To be continued...

Action Speak louder than words.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 21:27:36 GMT

Action speak louder than words.

It was the first Sunday of November, and I've been looking forward to this week. Ever since I started working a couple of days from home, I found comfort in creating new routines-intentional routines that made me feel grounded, feminine, and whole. I started my morning with mirror affirmations, the softness in my voice echoing back the truth that I needed to hear. Confidence. Discipline. Grace. It felt good to claim what I deserved. A whipped up a quick at-home espresso and slipped on my running shoes for a power walk along the nearby park trail. The refreshingly cool wind and the warm sunlight marinated on my skin in perfect harmony. It felt like Autumn was applauding my effort. I sipped my Dirty Pumpkin Spice latte as the steam escaped my cup to meet the November air. I proudly admired how delicious it turned out. I thought to myself, okay, I really did that! After my walk, I returned to my apartment feeling recharged and accomplished... until I saw what was waiting at my door. A bouquet, A beautiful one. My heart raced faster than it did on the trail. There was no doubt in my mind that they were from him. Russel. Inside, I turned on some soft R&B and began rearranging the bouquet of flowers. It was surprisingly something new I enjoy doing. As I pulled the last stem of lilies from the bunch, I noticed the absence of a card. It was unlike him. I laughed to myself. The cat scan must have gotten his tongue. Maybe silence was all I really needed from him anyway. I instantly craved another latte. So, I filled my bathtub with steaming hot water and warm cinnamon bubbles. I then mastered the Caramel Apple Crisp latte that I once enjoyed at Noir Lux Coffee shop. The sweet and warm smells alone wrapped my bathroom up like a yummy gift. Just as I slid a little deeper into the tub, I got a text from Layla. "Coffee linkup today?" I smiled. I'm already two cups in. How does next Sunday sounds?" She replied "Perfect." I began to think about the value of friendship and how safe I feel with Layla. But as the bubbles popped softly around me, my thoughts went back to the bouquet. Do action really speak louder than words? And if they do... what exactly was Russel trying to say? My thoughts sat quietly with me. no answers, just awareness. The rest of my day was filled with softness. I slipped into a silk pajama set, flipped through a few magazines, ordered takeout from my favorite Thai restaurant and spent the evening binging my comfort romance movies. No confusion, no interruptions, no emotional noise. Just me. Just peace. It was just the version of myself that I've been ready to prioritize. And to be honest, this ended up being the most peaceful Sunday I've had in a very long time.

To be continued...

Cup of Confusion

Sun, 16 Nov 2025 19:53:31 GMT

Cup of Confusion.

It was Sunday, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again. I swept the floors, swiffered the corners that I usually ignored, did my laundry and I even tackled the dishes-well... I loaded them into the dishwasher, but still, that was progress. My life stayed busy, and paying for services to keep things running smoothly had always been my norm. But now that I've been working from home a couple of days a week, I found myself wanting to pour a little more intention into my space. I reached into my work bag for my laptop-not to work, but to order Harvest, Noir Lux Coffee's new medium roast. A coworker recently told her about the Artisan's Package, a luxurious at home coffee experience that includes new blends and recipes. To keep my vibe high, I slipped into a cozy autumn-toned pajama set. I even perfected my 5-minute little-to-no makeup look, just enough to look effortlessly pretty. I caught my reflection and felt proud. Who knew two work-from-home days would bring out a softer, more intentional version of me? I thought to myself. Then-the knock. Sudden, quick. When I opened the door, it was Chris from the coffee shop standing there with a pure white delivery box. "Wait-how did you get up here? I asked as I was both confused and impressed. "The concierge let me up. Noir Lux Coffee has a partnership with nearby condos. We personally deliver online orders," he said with a smile. I instantly thought luxury membership unlocked! As Chris handed me the box, he added, "I haven't seen you in a while at the shop. Hopefully I'll see you in there soon." I couldn't tell if he meant that personally or if it was just Noir Lux Coffee marketing magic. So, I lifted the box. shook it lightly and smiled. "I'll be there as soon as I run out of this." The moment Chris left, I unraveled the black silk ribbon from the box. "Now this is Noir Lux," I whispered. When I cracked open the box, a rich coffee aroma escaped into my apartment- a warm, earthy scent that felt like life in a cup. I pulled out the sleek black bag of Harvest, the matte finish, the weight, the luxury of it all...it felt like unboxing a classic Chanel quilted flap. But just before I could open the seal, I heard it. A faint knock. Then another. I immediately frowned. I looked through the peephole and couldn't believe the peephole or my eyes. Russel. Baby daddy of the year. It felt like my heart dropped into my fuzzy bear slippers. For a second- I hesitated. Long enough for him to speak. "September, I know you're home," he said. "I could smell your coffee." I cracked open the door just enough, leaving only a small gap between us. "Can I come in?" He asked. "No." I said without thinking twice. "Okay, that's fair", he said, running his hand over his beard. "I've been calling you." "I don't answer numbers I don't know," I shot back, folding my arms. Russel sighed and sat down on the floor outside my door, as if he was anchoring himself there. " I heard about the interaction you had with Sophia. And. I'm here to apologize for it all... I'm sorry for how distant I've been. I've just... I've been trying to process everything, and right now I need you." I didn't respond. I couldn't respond. "We submitted a DNA test," he continued quietly. "We're waiting on the results. And I know you don't want to hear anything from me right now but... I'm in love with you September. I just wanted you to know that. I'm not giving up on reaching out, but I will respect your time and leave these flowers here. I just hope one day you'll let me explain everything." He stood up slowly as if he didn't want to leave. "Bye for now, Ms. September Black. When his footsteps faded, I widen the door and brought the bouquet inside. Numb to it all, I finally sat on the couch with my dirty pumpkin spice latte, letting the spices warm my heart. I didn't realize the hurt until the first tear reached my lip. I'd been waiting for this. For him to chase me. To prove himself. To show up. To say the words that I've been praying he felt all along. And now that he had... It all just felt confusing. Heavy. Unsteady. The more I sipped my latte, the more I wondered if loving him would ever feel safe. I thought about the DNA test. About Sophia's belly. About all the unaswered questions. And for the first time, I've realized: waiting for the results of the test was'nt the test. Waiting to see what I choose to do from here until, was the real test.

To be Continued

Main Character Energy

Mon, 10 Nov 2025 13:53:14 GMT

Main Character Energy

It was Sunday morning, and I couldn't be happier to finally take a break from my office job-to just breathe. Let's just say my week had been chaotic, the kind of week where even my coffee breaks felt rushed. I've been meaning to set up a coffee date with Layla, so I finally sent the text: "Hey Layla girl, I know it's kind of last minute, but if you're not too busy today, would you like to meet up for coffee?" Almost immediately, Layla replied: "I would love to. See you in 30 minutes? I genuinely grinned and sent back a quick thumbs up. With such a short window, I knew I had to move fast-shower, glam and go. Everyone online had been raving about Noir Lux Coffee's November's menu, and if I by chance happens to run into Russel... well, I wanted to look unbothered and let's not forget unforgettable. Twenty minutes in, I unwrapped my current obsession-my silk press and admired how healthy it was. I slipped into a little black dress, calf high pointed boots, and a silver bucket bag that shimmered just right along with my jewelry and soft-glow makeup. Maybe it was the outfit. Maybe it was the dying flowers Russel had sent last weekend. Either way, I was in full main character energy. Once I finally arrived at the coffee shop, I instantly felt calm-grounded, radiant, and detached from everything that used to me anxious. Layla was already there, waving me over to our favorite little window table. And, of course, Layla understood the assignment: she looked stunning in a two-piece pinstripe suit tailored to perfection, with black Prada slingbacks that screamed quiet confidence. Layla had already ordered- two Caramel Apple Crisp Lattes and two bacon, egg, and cheese croissant sandwiches. I smiled. Layla always knew what to do. Between sips and laughter, we deep dived into celebrity gossip, debating the odds of Rihanna having baby number four. I started scrolling through Ri's latest post, the soft glam, the effortless glow- and gushed about how love looked so good on her. Then things took a turn. I turned my head. And simultaneously froze. Walking towards our table-confidently, almost glowing was Sophia, Russel's ex. Except this time, she wasn't just his ex she was his baby mama. She was about four months pregnant. The moment twisted in slow motion. My hand slipped and accidently spilled my latte. Sophia strutted up, one hand on her baby bump, rubbing it like she was showing off a limited-edition Birkin. "Well, aren't you two the cutest but also the lamest with your little color coordination?" she said, her voice was dipped in sarcasm. Un provoked, my lips curved into a smirk. "Oh, look what the stray cat knocked up and dragged out." Layla didn't miss a beat. "You meant threw out." Giggling, I doubled down. "Nope Layla. Trash day was yesterday; they just left this one behind." Layla and I looked at each other, burst into laughter, and shouted in sync- Too trashy! Sophia rolled her eyes, mumbled "bitches" and stormed off. But before she got too far, I shouted "and you owe me a coffee! It was petty, it was bold, it was everything I needed to say- not to Sophia but to Russel. Back at my apartment, I looked at the bouquet of flowers still sitting on the counter. The petals were browning; the stems were drooping. I didn't hesitate this time. I tossed them in the trash- right where they belonged. Deleting Russel's number wasn't easy, but the thought of Sophia's growing belly made it easier than I expected. And just like that, my thoughts were clearer. My energy was no longer manipulated by what I thought was love- it was mine again because I'm the main character.

To be continued...

Just show up.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 16:37:10 GMT

Just show up.

It was the Sunday after Halloween, and I've been floating on cloud nine ever since that night with Russel. Our last conversation-blurred by too many drinks and too much honesty- played on repeat in my mind. But as the buzz of that memory faded, so did the illusion of love. Russel had a pattern; he showed up as the man I could almost love, only to disappear when things began to feel too real. The weight of that realization pressed heavy on my chest. To escape my own thoughts, I decide to play Cowboy Carter act II from beginning to end. I guess my own patterns didn't work. I typically would feel sad or lonely, listen to music that explains how I feel while still feeling all of the feels. I desperately needed to disrupt this pattern by getting out of the apartment and finally trying Golden Haze, the last coffee blend from Noir Lux Coffee's October collection. Just as I slipped into my Sunday routine slowness, my phone lit up with a text from Layla. "Are you showing up to yoga today?" Right on time! I needed this. "On my way" I eagerly replied. I quickly changing into my forest-green leggings set and tied my hair into a loose bun. On my way to the yoga studio, I made a quick stop at the coffee shop-grabbing two iced Caramel Popcorn Lattes. One was for Layla. It was the least I could do after ditching her at the Halloween party. As I entered the yoga studio, the smell of the coffee shop followed me. Layla's eyes softened when she saw the two cups. "I'm so sorry about the other night", I blurted out of shame. Handing her the coffee, "I had way too much to drink". I continued. Layla smiled. "It's okay, September. You don't owe me an apology". We then rolled out our mats, filling the room with silence that said more than words could. After class, I invited Layla back to my apartment to catch up. "Red or white?" I asked, pulling two glasses from the cabinet. Over wine and a bowl of last night's gumbo and rice, we drifted through talks about work, dating and everything in between those easy surface-level conversations that feels safe when your brain is still processing and your heart is still healing. Then came a knock. My heart leapt before my feet even left the floor. I ran to the door- half hopeful and half terrified. It wasn't Russel. It was the building's concierge, holding a bouquet of flowers and a small card that read: "Just thinking of you." My heartbeat pulsated into confusion. Since Halloween, there had been no calls, no texts, no knocks. After everything he'd said, I couldn't tell if I've been waiting for him to show up and stay or to never show up again. I stood there, flowers in hand, staring into the quiet. So deep in my thoughts, I didn't even notice that Layla had already let herself out.

To be continued...

Midnight Cat

Sun, 19 Oct 2025 21:37:23 GMT

Midnight Cat

It was Sunday again, and I was woken up by an email from my office complex reminding everyone of the Halloween party. "uhhh." The thought of running into Russel-or worse, Layla-made me want to crawl under my sheets and skip straight to November. It was now 1:45p.m and I still haven't had my first cup of coffee. That alone was a reason to leave the apartment. I slipped into my sexy black costume, zipped up my thigh-high boots, and headed to Noir Lux Coffee for their new Candy Corn Latte. The moment I stepped outside the crisp October air kissed my skin, I felt a little more like myself again-confident, mysterious, and free. Almost as free as a stray cat. Noir Lux Coffee was packed with sexy witches, all types of sexy animals, I even saw a sexy goblin, all sipping the Candy Corn Latte. I couldn't help but to wonder... how us women have turned our childhood fears into sex appeal? Maybe mystery was a part of our allure. I also now understood why everyone had the same coffee, it was bold, smooth, and unexpectedly addictive. The barista mentioned that it was from their new line Crimson Luxe. After sipping and watching a group of serial killers in glam talk about their trip to Miami. My phone buzzed. A text from Layla: "Hey September, do you think we could talk tonight at the Halloween party?" After my long silent pause, I texted back "Sure." By the time I reached the elevator, a woman dressed as a corpse bride stepped in with mascara tears streaming down her cheeks. "Are you ok?" I asked. "No", she said. "My boyfriend cheated on me. I'm going to get drunk and make out with everyone tonight." I just nodded, silently hoping that I wasn't part of everyone. Minutes later, I arrived at the rooftop party where the skyline glittered, and everyone wore a mask to match their costume. Somewhere between the un comfortability and the music, I spotted Layla dressed as a playboy bunny. Immediately, Layla apologized softly, but I wanted to mask my feeling tonight so instead, we drunk the blood-orange rum punch, danced and laughed until the corpse bride made her rounds-pouting her lips to collect another kiss. Not thinking, but thinking fast, I leaned in and kissed Layla instead. I understood why I did it, but what I couldn't understand why I wasn't uncomfortable. When Layla left to grab more punch, I escaped as sly as a cat back up to my apartment. And to my surprise the big bad wolf was sitting at my door, I was pissed but also happy to curl up with Russel.

To be Continued...

Things just got spookier

Mon, 13 Oct 2025 02:18:29 GMT

Things just got spookier!

It was Sunday and immediately upon opening my eyes, I felt that familiar weight in my chest-anxiety. The kind that creeps in before your feet even touch the floor. I wasn't sure if it was the excitement of trying the Velvet Spice coffee beans at Noir Lux Coffee, or the possibility of casually running into Layla... or Russel. It had been a rough start to October. Russel still creeped into my thoughts, haunting me like a broken relationship without closure. I couldn't believe I was still thinking about him after the drama she spilled on me last week on top of the unexpected kiss with Layla. I felt like I was mourning the death of my happily ever after, so I dressed the part. Grabbing my black sweatpants, my black hoodie and my black YSL mules. My mood was giving Kanye, a rebellion against the world. The elevator ride down felt like eternal death, my heart dropped at each stop by the by the time I reached the second floor, I realized I hadn't taken a single breathe since pressing the Lobby button. At Noir Lux Coffee, the air smelled like fall-cinnamon powder, roasted pecan, pumpkin spice and everything comforting. I ordered the Pumpkin Pie latte, which came with a complimentary slice of pie. After the first bite, I couldn't tell where the latte begins and where the pie ends. It was the Velvet Spice- smooth, warm, and dangerously addictive. For a moment I forgot about the heartbreak. Until I got a glimpse of the window. Across the street a figured stood still, was it Russel's ex Sophia? I normally watch scary movies during the day, so my mind went spiraling. Was she following me? Was she here to tell me she was still in love with Russel? or worse was she here to tell me she was pregnant with his baby? I tried to sip the last sip of my latte, but the paranoia lingered on the tongue like an espresso aftertaste. And just when I thought my Sunday couldn't get any spookier, I heard it- that laugh, his laugh, Russel's laugh. I froze, every nerve in my body wanted to run into his arms, bury my nose into his neck, kiss him endlessly and pretend none of it happened. Not Sophia, not Layla none of it. But instead, I did what I always do escape and hide my feelings just to deal with them later. I pulled my hoodie over my head and bolted towards the door. "September" he shouted. But at that moment I did what was best for me, I kept walking. On my walk back to my building, I watched my back half of me was expecting the boogeyman and half of me was expecting what was now in my past. As I slipped my key into the lock, my mind replayed the way he shouted for me. The door clicked shut, but my heart just couldn't. Because no matter how much I try to escape, the boogeyman of my love life still knows my address.

Until next Sunday!

Espresso Conversations

Sun, 28 Sep 2025 16:24:37 GMT

Espresso Conversation

It was another Sunday, and I couldn't be more excited to meet up with Layla at Noir Lux Coffee. I was in the mood for an iced cinnamon dolce, so I decide to wear a casual cream-colored halter-top, light washed denim, dainty gold jewelry and a pair of brown and gold Tory Burch sandals. I didn't want to show up late so I quickly grabbed my small leopard Brandon Blackwood handbag and rushed out the door. As I approached the coffee shop, I could smell the espressos in the air. I leaned against the counter, casually ordering a Cinnamon Dolce latte with one pump of Butter Pecan syrup. I couldn't keep my focus, I couldn't keep my eyes on the menu, instead, I was searching for something that wasn't on the menu. I was looking for him. Russel. My sexy scented neighbor with the deep laugh and a habit of disappearing. No calls, no texts just radio static. I've been replaying our lobby moment over and over in my head, wondering if I've been too forward, too hopeful, too willing to sip the possibility of him and I. But the answer came when I least expected it. While I waited for Layla, I decided to indulge in my coffee and people watch. A mid height, pixie cut style woman with countless tattoos and an aura of unbothered walked up to my table. She didn't introduce herself right away. Instead, she expressed how long she has been looking for me. She smirked and then dropped the kind of truth that burns hotter than a spilled hot coffee. "I'm Russel's ex Sophia, but he likes to call me Soph. I'm not sure if he had told you as of yet but we're still seeing each other. Intimately". I froze like a Frappuccino. The woman slid her phone across the table. It was my number. She said he had my name saved in his phone as Coffee Wifey. She then proceeded to say, "I've been actively stopping by the coffee shop in hopes of running into you to inform you that, he's a cereal dater and if you're looking for any future with him, good luck because I'm not the only one he's occasionally sleeping with". Still froze, I thought to myself this coffee conversation couldn't have gotten any bitter. Just intime, Layla walked up with her coffee piping hot. The woman walked away and immediately I began to coffee dump this tough sip to swallow. We decided that coffee wasn't the appropriate drink for this issue, so we walked back to our building. I wanted to just curl up in bed, but Layla had that kind of warmth in a friend that I desperately needed. She invited me up to her apartment for a glass of wine. I didn't hesitate. One glass turned into three. Laughter turned into vulnerability. And then a kiss. Unexpected. Soft. Then thirsty. Before I could even process it, I found myself making out with Layla, My new coffee buddy. Both of us were stripped down to nothing but lingerie and raw emotions. For a moment, the world blurred. Wine, espressos, heartbreak, desire and escapism. But then clarity. Reality snapped back, we stopped breathless, laying side by side in nothing but panties and the weight of choices that we almost made. I just laid there staring at the ceiling. I didn't know what next Sunday would bring. But I knew this dating was messy, intoxicating with a Noir Lux Coffee plot twist.

To Be Continued

Steamy

Sun, 01 Jun 2025 22:24:07 GMT

Things just got steamy.

It was yet another Sunday and I did absolutely nothing yesterday. I yanked myself off social media and dragged myself out the bed. I've been vamping since I've signed off teams last Friday, so I was truly determined to enjoy the warm sunshine and go for a walk today. Embarrassed, I quickly and i mean quickly straightened my apartment before the cleansers got here. The weather was still breezy with a little warmth, so I decided to wear a mauve biker short two-piece set. This color made me feel really pretty, so I accompanied my look with a sweet sugar plum aroma, a top knot messy bun and some tented brown transparent sunglasses with gold frames. I grabbed my white fanny pack and slipped into my favorite white Nike sneakers to match. I finally made it out the door, I usually sit in at Noir Lux Cafe, however today I decided to grab a coffee to go. On my way to the shop, I casually thought about cologne guy, I mean Russel. I haven't spoken to him since our little lobby pow wow. I was hoping to run into him while grabbing a coffee. "Hi September". "Oh, hi Chris, how's it going"? He informed me that a woman stopped by looking for me, unsure of who could be looking for me, I asked for her description he said she was a mid-height, black female with short cut hair. I was still unsure who that could be, he said she'd left her information at the front desk and would like for me to give her a call. As I made my way to the front desk to place my order, I couldn't help but want to order in, you know, just in case I see Russel. It was my turn to order, "Good morning, can I have a medium iced vanilla latte with oat milk and brown sugar cold foam to go please"? As much as I would love to be in the company of a man right now, I think I just need to focus on myself. After I purchased my coffee, I decided to change my lonely mood by hitting the gym in my building. I noticed there was a yoga class about to commence, I found me a spot on a mat and sipped my coffee until the instructor came in. The young lady next to me asked about my coffee, so I told her all about Noir Lux Coffee, I even shared the details of how delicious my latte tasted. She said she just moved into the building and would love a new coffee buddy. She was pretty, loved coffee and seemed pretty chilled so I agreed to meet up with her for coffee next Sunday. During the yoga session, I found myself in positions that I never knew I could get in or out of. My new coffee buddy had me laughing the entire session as we both struggled to keep up with the other women. Today, I learned that hot yoga is much different from yoga. My body was extremely hot and steamy, which didn't help to get my mind off of my loneliness. After hot yoga, I made my way to the elevator where I ran into Russel.

Choosing Me

Sun, 25 May 2025 16:27:57 GMT

Choosing me, just got easier.

I'm really starting to love Sundays. On this particular Sunday, I received an email from the front office, informing all residents that the top deck pool area is now available for enjoyment. I couldn't be more excited, I mean my body isn't summertime fine due to my over consumption of late-night snacks and wine, but I could really treat myself to a day in the sun. We were also invited to a "Meet your neighbor" event, this afternoon, which really excited me, I mean I have been in my shell since the whole break up, so I owe it to myself to get back social again. I decided to throw a little Beyonce on as I got myself dressed for my morning coffee run. It was a beautiful day outside, so I decided to slip into a cute black linen mid sun dress. This dress has been in the back of my closet for two summers now and between my new mindset and Beyonce's freak em dress song, I was feeling confident and free. I reached for my So Fresh Marc Jacobs perfume for the smell of the day, and my crisp white Hermes dupe sandals. I threw my travel size glitter body butter by J lo into my snaked skinned all white top handled handbag and was out the door. As I made it to my favorite coffee spot Noir Lux Cafe, I immediately felt at home from the welcome back greetings and friendly waves from the fabulous coffee junkies. There is always something new to try so today I went with an iced blueberry cobbler latte and an all-dressed bagel with hot apple butter and cream cheese. Like every Sunday Chris sits me to my seat, but today he was replaced by another handsome guy name Ryan, Now Ryan was more of my type of guy he was tall, dark skinned, ocean wave like hair with a beautiful white smile. However, Ryan was playing on the same team, his nails were painted baby pink. While I waited for my breakfast and coffee, I began to stare out the window, where I watched an older couple enjoy each other's company over a cup of coffee. It was the warmest, the sweetest, heartfelt thing to witness. It was the way he sweetened her coffee, the way she looked into his eyes while fixing his collar, the way they simply held hands. It was original, it was effortless, it was everything that love looked like. By this time, I was now devouring my breakfast bagel and slowly taking in every pleasant flavor of my iced latte. Once I came back to reality, a masculine voiced asked have I ever been in love, I quickly looked up and he slowly sat down across from me. It was the cologne guy that paid for my first coffee, he was dressed in an all-white two piece with cognac tone sandals, his mysterious aura sucked me right in. After 20 minutes of getting to know each other, I found out that cologne guy's name is Russel, he's single, he's the chief financial officer for Clear Water Bank Institute and he's, also my neighbor. After Russel paid for my breakfast and coffee, he offered to walk me to our building. We didn't quite make it to the meet your neighbor pool party because we chose to spent hours and hours in the lobby getting to know each other a little more.

Double Shot

Sun, 19 Jan 2025 18:38:14 GMT

Double Shot

I've made it through the week, and it was now Sunday morning. I was looking forward to this day. There was no chance of rain today, so I decided to get dressed to grab a cup of coffee. I picked out a basic long sleeve black turtleneck top to pair with my mid-thigh black shorts. I wanted to keep my look light, so I added some dainty gold hoops, a vintage gold belt and watch, my caviar white Chanel handbag with gold hardware, a pair of black Steve Madden Hermes dupe sandals and for the scent, Santal 33. I looked all over for my unisex blacked out sunglasses, but I couldn't find them anywhere, so I grabbed my Chanel dupe sunnies instead. As I made my way to Noir Lux Coffee Shop, I could smell the strong aroma of coffee. It instantly made me feel happy. I did a quick outfit check through the window and suddenly, I locked eyes with Chris, the waiter. Once inside, he immediately started walking towards me with excitement on his face. I decided to compose my smile. I'm as single as a one-dollar bill, but I didn't want to look like it and I sure as hell didn't want to act like it. "Good morning, September," said Chris. I quickly said good morning back, but I was puzzled at the fact he knew my name, I never told him my name. As soon as I approached the coffee bar, the well-dressed young lady from last week said, "welcome back September." It felt as if they knew me, I said good morning back, but I needed to know how they knew my name. Apparently, I was so amazed at how luxurious this coffee shop was, I forgot that I mentioned my name when I placed my order. We both laughed, she asked if I was going to get the same thing from last week, again I was shocked that they keep records of who and what you've ordered but I decided to try something different. I've recently got out of a long-term relationship, and I decided that I would push myself to try different things, different places, different men and now different coffee. I wasn't really sure on what I wanted so she insisted that I try the Cappuccino Cream, she said it was popular this week and according to my choice of outfit she thought my Old Money aesthetic was perfect for this coffee. So, I said let's do it. Just as last week I grabbed my ticket and Chris walked me to a table by the window. This time I didn't care to look at the price because I just knew that it will be well worth it. I didn't have to wait too long until he showed up with my hot Cappuccino Cream that had shaved curls of chocolate and caramel sprinkled over a fluffy cloud of whipped cream and my unisex blacked out sunglasses. "I'd figured you would be looking for these, you left them at your table last week." Said Chris. Little did he knew, he just made my day. Thirsty to wear them, I decided to wear them while I sipped my coffee. Extra you may say, and to that I would say "exactly!" While sipping my coffee, I overheard a conversation about a woman finding out that her husband has been secretly sending hush money to his work mistress. I thought to myself "dam I love this coffee shop!" I finished my last sip of coffee, paid, and waved bye to Chris and the young lady at the bar. During my walk home, I felt like being single was better than dealing with a double shot of scandals.

The discovery of Noir Lux Coffee

Sun, 12 Jan 2025 18:15:26 GMT

The discovery of Noir Lux Coffee.

Today started off like any other Sunday, I woke up at 6:30am. I went for a morning walk, showered, and got dressed to grab my morning breakfast. As I commuted to my favorite breakfast spot, I'd noticed there was a new local coffee shop. I was intrigued so I made a mental note to stop by on my way back but out of nowhere it started to drizzle. I wasn't dressed appropriate for the rain. I wore a smokey grey chunky knit cardigan, paired with cream-colored slacks, my black open toe Chanel sandals, an oversized black YSL shoulder bag and my favorite unisex blacked out sunglasses that I scored from a Goodwill in Newyork City. I quickly rushed inside the new coffee shop. I felt like I was transported into a Givenchy clothing store. There were tall white columns, marble finished tables, fluorescent light fixtures and well-dressed humans who were laser focused into their conversations. I couldn't help but to notice the way they casually took sips from their rustic white pottery coffee mugs. I immediately thought to myself "Oh Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore!" I was greeted by a young woman wearing a freshly pressed white button down and a solid black tie. "Welcome to Noir Lux Cafe, where our coffee is more than just coffee, it's a lifestyle, what can I get for you today?" I wanted to say forty-five minutes to process everything but instead I said, "Hi can I have a hot Caramel Macchiato please?" I didn't really want that, but I didn't have enough time to look over the menu. She smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear then proceeded to process my order. I desperately wanted to change my coffee order, but I didn't want to be difficult. "Would you like to add breakfast to your order?" she asked. I said "sure, what's your favorite on the menu?" She replied, "the bacon, egg and cheese croissant sandwiches are amazing!" Again, I didn't want to be too difficult, so I said, "sounds great I'll take it!" She handed me a ticket with my orders total. $22.22, I wasn't sure if my face showed what I was thinking because that was a bit expensive for just a coffee and a sandwich. A gentle deep male voice behind me said "right this way!" As he casually walked me to a table seated next to the window, I noticed he too was dressed in a freshly pressed white button down with a solid black tie and black slacks. As I sat down, I naturally started to people watch and admire the space. Everything was gorgeous and looked just as expensive as my meal. The gentle voice male came back, this time he delivered my meal and said, "Hello, my name is Chris, I'm here to take care all of your needs." I wanted to ask if he can take care of this $22.22 breakfast bill but instead, I smiled and said, "thank you for now Chris, I think I'm all set." As I begin to enjoy my expensive meal, I've noticed the five star presentation. My ice water that I didn't ask for had a lemon and nugget ice, I love nugget ice. My hot Caramel Macchiato was piping hot with Caramel sauce artistically dripping down the mug. My croissant sandwich was plated with grape jelly swirled on the left side of my plate, strawberry jam on the right side and a miniature dipping bowl filled with warm maple syrup. After devouring every bit of my breakfast, I started to appreciate the $22.22 price point. Finally, the rain started to clear. I began to powder my face while I waited for Chris to take my card. He was nowhere in sight. I noticed that other customers paid for their coffee and meals at the register closer to the door so, pretending I'm a bougie regular here, I grabbed my bag to head towards the front to pay for my meal. While I waited behind a gentleman in a black suit, I couldn't help but to notice the masculine scent of his cologne. It reminded me of my ex-boyfriend, I moved in a little closer to get a better whiff for reminiscing purposes, he turned around. I didn't want to seem like an actual weirdo, so I immediately complimented his cologne. He said, "thank you, its Gucci." He turned back around and suggested to pay for my ticket along with his own. I insisted to pay for my own, but he didn't take no for an answer. I thought for sure he was going to ask for my name and number, instead he paid for our meals, gave me a small smirk and walked out the door. On my way out the door Chris also gave me a friendly nod and said, "I hope to see you again." After surviving the single life for over a month now, I felt seen and flattered during my walk home.

Welcome letter!

site-XWFPcg — Fri, 03 Jan 2025 17:34:50 GMT

Welcome Coffee Besties

Dear reader, this isn't your regular online coffee shop. We've decided to curate something special for our coffee lovers who enjoys a good read. We highly encourage you to brew a cup of coffee and tune into the read of the week.

MEET THE NARRIATOR:

Hi, I'm September Black; your new coffee bestie. Join me every Sunday to stay caught up on how I balance my life at the coffee shop. You don't want to miss a post, each post is HOT, it's STEAMY, it's filled with coffee shop DRAMA and GOSSIP.