Ayida
The heat pressed against my scalp in slow, patient waves, the flat iron gliding through my hair with a steady hiss that sounded almost like breath.
Steam curled upward, carrying the scent of coconut oil and something faintly burnt, something familiar.
I sat still in the chair, hands folded in my lap, eyes lowered to my nails that were freshly manicured, pale pink, smooth and perfect.
The ring on my finger caught the light every time I moved, the diamond flashing like it had a voice of its own.
I stared at it longer than I meant to. It shined the same way it had the first day Noles slid it onto my finger, his hands shaking just a little, his mouth tight like he was trying not to show how serious it all was.
I remembered the weight of his palms. The way his voice dropped when he said my name. The way the world felt like it shifted around us. Now, my mind wouldn't sit still. It paced. Circles on circles. Running into walls it already knew were there. My period was late this month.
Not late enough to panic but late enough to hope.
Late enough for Noles to notice before I did.
He'd said it casual, like he wasn't trying to read into it, but I saw the way his eyes lit up.
The way his shoulders straightened. The way he started imagining something he didn't even know he was imagining yet. "You late?"
The test was negative. One thin line. He'd hugged me like it didn't matter.
Like he was fine either way. Like love didn't come with expectations or futures or legacy tangled up in blood.
But I felt it. The flicker of disappointment he tried to bury.
The hope that had bloomed too fast to kill quietly.
standing there in the bathroom in that moment, test still warm in my hand, I wanted to tell him.
I wanted to open my mouth and let the truth fall out, let it be ugly and real and heavy so we could carry it together.
But the words wouldn't come. They stayed lodged in my throat like a prayer I was too scared to speak.
When the test read negative, he kissed my forehead and said we'd try again, and maybe it just wasn't time. But time had already decided for me.
"Girl, if you stare at them nails any harder, they gon' crack," Chiana teased, snapping me back into the room.
I blinked, lifting my head. She sat to my right, her hair halfway done, lips glossy, eyes sharp and warm like they always were when she was paying attention.
Nia and Amina sat to my left, both of them deep in their own worlds.
Nia quiet, distant, her reflection in the mirror looking like she was somewhere else entirely.
Amina's head bobbed slightly, fighting sleep, arms folded loosely across her chest.
None of us looked excited. The donor event was tonight, but the room felt heavy, like we were getting dressed for something none of us wanted to attend.
"Ayida, I'm talkin' to you," Chiana said again, softer this time.
"Hm?" I murmured, turning toward her. "I found a specialist over in Houston," she said.
"She specializes in fertility. Real good reputation.
And she's black. I'm thinkin' a quick little girls' trip.
" Her voice was careful. Not pushy. Just offering.
I smiled. Chiana had been genuine from the day I met her.
She had a way of pulling people in without trying, of making space for you like you'd always belonged there.
Even now, she was trying to help me untangle something she didn't fully understand, but she didn't need to. She just showed up.
"Why not?" I shrugged. "Can't hurt." It felt strange saying it out loud, agreeing to something outside of Madame Laurent's baths and teas and whispered instructions.
But I was tired of standing still. "You know I was late this month?
" I added quietly. Chiana's eyes flicked to mine.
"Hell, Noles noticed before I did," I continued, my voice lowering.
"It just made me feel bad. Seeing' him hopeful like that.
Knowing' what it won't be." The words came out heavier than I expected.
Chiana reached over and squeezed my knee.
"Ayida, you can't beat yourself up like that," she said.
"What happened to you had nothing ' to do with you.
None of it was your fault." Her words landed soft but solid.
"The only thing we can do," she added, "is keep tryin'.
One way or another." I nodded. But inside, something shifted.
Because trying meant hope And hope was dangerous.
The bell over the shop door dinged, sharp and bright, cutting through the low hum of blow dryers and quiet conversation.
I lifted my eyes toward the entrance without thinking.
Noles walked in like the air he breathed was different from everyone else.
That same swagger. That same confidence that lived in his shoulders before his feet ever touched the floor.
His braids were still neat, fresh from me redoing them the night before, edges clean, parts straight.
He smiled the second he saw me, like the room had rearranged itself just for him.
He crossed the floor in long strides, ignoring everything and everybody else.
When he reached my chair, he planted his hands on the armrests and leaned down, kissing me slow, right on the lips.
Not rushed. Not hidden. Like he wanted the whole room to know I belonged to him.
"I missed you," he murmured against my mouth, staying close.
Our noses brushed. His breath warmed my skin.
That familiar scent of his wrapped around me and pulled butterflies up from somewhere deep in my stomach.
The same ones that had fluttered the first day I met him, the first time he looked at me like I was already his.
"I missed you too, " I whispered back, my voice soft, almost shy.
His eyes searched mine for a long moment.
A look of Intent. "You got a lil minute?
" he asked quietly. "Come out to the car with me.
" He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, slow, teasing, damn near touching mine again.
Before I could answer, Amina's voice cut in.
"Uh-uh, Noles," she said, sitting up straighter in her chair like she hadn't been half asleep five seconds ago.
"Don't you see that woman gettin' her hair pressed out?
We don't have time for you to swell it back up. Gone on now."
The shop burst into giggles. I laughed too, heat creeping up my cheeks. "I know that's right," Jaz chimed in from behind me, comb still in hand. "Her hair thick as hell."
Noles groaned low in his throat, straightening up with exaggerated disappointment.
"I need dat before this lil event tonight," he said, looking at my head like it personally offended him.
"I'm on yo ass, I'm tellin' you." He leaned down once more and pecked my lips, quick and sweet, then backed away, flashing that grin that always made my chest tighten.
"I'll see you later," he said. The door dinged again, and the shop settled back into its rhythm.
blow dryers humming, women laughing low, stylists moving like a rhythm they'd been born into.
After we finished, we stopped by the perfume shop, testing soft florals and warm ambers until we each found something that felt like us. Then we separated for the evening.
When I made it home, the house was quiet except for the faint echo of bass from outside.
Half a bottle of D'usse sat on the kitchen counter, the glass beside it still wet at the rim.
I set my keys down gently, like I didn't want to disturb the air.
I moved through the hallway slow, the smell of his cologne drifting toward me long before I pushed open the bedroom door.
He was laid flat on his back across the bed, one arm thrown over his forehead, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling in that deep, heavy way he only breathed when he was truly knocked out.
The mug on his face didn't match the softness in the rest of him.
I smiled without meaning to. I took him in piece by piece.
the way his eyebrows tightened even in sleep; the curve of his lips; the rise of muscle under his skin; the tattoos across his chest catching the faint lamplight.
He didn't have on anything but briefs and socks.
My heart pulled at the sight of him, a familiar ache I'd been trying not to name.
The way I loved that man was beyond reason.
Some days it felt like devotion. Other days obsession.
And in the quiet like this... it felt like prayer.
I crossed to the dresser and slipped my bonnet over my pressed hair, tucking the ends neatly.
Then I turned and walked back toward the bed, climbing over him slow, settling myself above his hips like my body was magnetic to his.
The mattress dipped under my weight. His breath shifted.
I pulled his dick out of his brief massaging it and kissing it in every spot visible until he started to grow in my hands.
I flicked my eyes up seeing him awake. His eyes low on me with a lazy grin on his face.
I filled my mouth with spit before letting it drip down from my lips to the tip of his dick before I took him in my mouth whole to the back of my throat.
I heard him groan out lowly before I felt his hands on the side of my face He tilted my head lightly so that his dick would stay far in my mouth but my eyes were trained on him.
He thrusted into my mouth repeatedly while groaning and biting his lip but never taking his eyes off mine.
I felt spit drip down my chin and tears down my face as he continued to thrust in my mouth.