Apparently, the whole point was to fly to NOLA and live out your boldest, wildest, most reckless feminine desires with no shame, guilt, or filters.
“Before you meet your husband,” one said, “you deserve your Heaux Phase. The one that reminds you you’re not waiting on love because you are the love.”
I paused the video mid-fold, staring at my reflection in the black TV screen. Because lately, I hadn’t been living. I’d been existing. Healing quietly, avoiding dating apps, and waiting for a man who didn’t even know I was waiting. I was bored as hell. So I opened my laptop and pulled up flights to New Orleans. Valentine’s week. A week to be spontaneous, unfiltered, and possibly a little bit unholy.
If God didn’t want me to be in my Heaux Phase, he wouldn’t have given me airline points and off days at the same time.
2
Lyrix
It was officially February, which meant two things: Walmart’s seasonal aisle smelled like cheap chocolate and desperation and my flight to New Orleans was in a few days.
My room looked like a war zone between a fashion show and an arts-and-crafts session. There were clothes draped over my dresser, glitter stuck to my elbows, and an open suitcase sitting on my bed. I was halfway between deciding which dress said“carefree and slightly unhinged”and gluing another cutout onto my Heaux Phase Vision Board when my best friend, Syn, FaceTimed me.
She looked like she just woke up from a nap that started in 2019.
“Have you booked your flight and packed yet?” I asked, balancing my laptop on a pile of clothes and holding up a piece of glitter-covered cardboard for her to see.
She squinted at the screen. “Girl, I’m not going.”
I froze mid-glitter sprinkle.
“Excuse me?”
“Dee said he’s planning something for Valentine’s Day.”
I blinked slowly, like my brain was buffering.
“Something like… what? A real plan or one of those‘I’m gon’ see what I can do’plans?”
“No, like a surprise. He told me not to make plans for Valentine’s weekend.” I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw last Valentine’s Day.
“Syn, if you knew your man like I know your man, you’d be booking this trip twice. Once for fun, and once for recovery.”
She adjusted her bonnet, frowning. “You don’t even know what he’s planning.”
I laughed, setting the glue stick down before I accidentally used it as lip balm.
“You’re right. But I do know that Dee gets dressed with you every morning like y’all got matching work shifts, just to go stand on the same street corner like he’s waiting on a music video to start.”
Syn burst out laughing so hard she dropped her phone, and I got a full view of her ceiling fan spinning like it was trying to escape her apartment.
“You so stupid,” she wheezed.
“No, I’m serious,” I said, smirking. “He’s a professional presence. His job description is just being around.”
Syn laughed, wiping her eyes.
“You just mad because I’m choosing love over chaos.”
“Love? Girl, his idea of Valentine’s Day is probably him driving your car, to take you to a dinner that you’re paying for. You’ll be lucky if he brings a rose he didn’t steal from the gas station.”
She gasped, pretending to clutch her pearls. “You really hate my man.”
I shrugged, tossing a bra into my suitcase.
“I don’t hate him. I just think he’s sorry as hell.”
