IF ONLY WE KNEW BETTER.

SOCIAL MEDIA VALENTINES

14TH FEBRUARY 2025

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HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, BABY-GIRL.

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(RING - A - LING - A - LING, THAT’S THE MONEY CALLING**)

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THE IPHONE, IPAD, APPLE WATCH, AND MACBOOK LIGHT UP IN SYNC, SIRI ANNOUNCING THE CALLER: “HUBBY 💜”.

“BEVERLY.. BABY.. HAPPY VALENTINES, BABY-GIRL.”

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LAWRENCE EXHALES INTO THE PHONE, PROCLAIMING HIS LOVE WITH THE WEIGHT OF A SIGH.

BUT—HIS TONE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE.

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FOUR YEARS OF MARRIAGE HAVE TRAINED BEVERLY PERKINS TO HEAR WHAT ISN’T SAID.

SHE LETS THE HOPELESS ROMANTIC IN HER RESPOND ANYWAY.

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“LAWRENCE, MY HUSBAND. WHEN WILL YOUR WORDS MATCH YOUR ACTIONS?”

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AND JUST LIKE THAT, SHE HEARS IT — HIS EGO, RICH AND FAMILIAR, TAKING OVER THE CALL.

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“WHAT? HAS YOUR NEW RR SVR AT 575 HORSEPOWER NOT BEEN LOUD ENOUGH FOR YOU?”

“LAWRENCE… WE SPOKE ABOUT THIS. IT AIN’T ABOUT THE CAR OR THE NICE GIFTS,THE MONEY—“

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“NAH, YOU BUGGING!” LAWRENCE CUTS IN.

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“WITH EVERYTHING I GOT YOU, YOU STILL GOT A NERVE POPPING OUT YOUR FOREHEAD, TALKING ABOUT JUST ANOTHER DAY? VALENTINE’S IS EVERYDAY, BABY-GIRL! YOU AND YOUR GIRLS SEEM TO KNOW THIS ALREADY.”

ANYWAY, SOMETHING CAME UP AT WORK TODAY AND…”

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BEVERLY HANGS UP, CUTTING HIM OFF BEFORE HIS AUDACITY CAN GO ANY FURTHER.

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THREE YEARS, NO MAN WAS ABOUT TO RUIN HER SPECIAL DAY.

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BLACK SHADES AND A GOLD TOOTH

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BEVERLY STARED AT THE EMPTY CALL LOG.

NO CALLBACKS, NO APOLOGIES. 

JUST SILENCE.

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HER FINGERS HOVERED OVER THE PHONE SCREEN, HESITATION DANCING AT HER FINGERTIPS.

AND THEN, ALMOST INSTINCTIVELY,

SHE TAPPED OPEN INSTAGRAM.

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13 UNREAD DMS. MOST WERE THE USUAL—HEARTS ON HER STORIES,

“YOU LOOK GOOD”  MESSAGES, AND THIRSTY EMOJIS FROM MEN WHO HAD NO BUSINESS TEXTING A MARRIED WOMAN.

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BUT THERE WAS ONE SHE ALWAYS NOTICED.

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HIM.

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THE GUY WITH THE BLACK SHADES AND THE GOLD TOOTH. THE ONE WHO NEVER TRIED TOO HARD, NEVER SPAMMED HER INBOX, NEVER BEGGED FOR ATTENTION — BUT HE WAS ALWAYS THERE.

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LIKING. WATCHING. WAITING.

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SHE HAD NEVER RESPONDED. OUT OF RESPECT FOR LAWRENCE.

OUT OF DUTY.

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BUT TODAY? RESPECT FELT LIKE A JOKE.

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WITH A SLOW EXHALE, SHE TAPPED IN HIS NAME.

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BEVERLY: “YOU STILL GOT YOUR EYES ON ME?”

THE RESPONSE CAME INSTANTLY.

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GOLD TOOTH: “DAMN. TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH.”

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BEVERLY SMIRKED, ALREADY FEELING A SHIFT IN THE AIR.

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GOLD TOOTH: “I KNEW ONE DAY YOU’D STOP PRETENDING.”

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BEVERLY: “PRETENDING?”

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GOLD TOOTH: “THAT YOU DON’T SEE ME. THAT YOU DON’T WONDER. THAT YOU AIN’T TIRED OF THAT MAN PLAYING IN YOUR FACE.”

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SHE SWALLOWED, PULSE QUICKENING. HE WASN’T WRONG.

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GOLD TOOTH: “LET ME SHOW YOU SOMETHING DIFFERENT.”

BEVERLY LEANED BACK AGAINST THE COUCH, STRETCHING HER LEGS OUT. THIS WASN’T LOVE. THIS WASN’T EVEN REVENGE.

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THIS WAS A GAME.

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BEVERLY: “MMM. CONVINCE ME.”

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GOLD TOOTH: “I AIN’T GONNA CONVINCE YOU, MA. YOU ALREADY SAID YES.”

AND THE TRUTH WAS— SHE HAD.

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SHE BIT HER LIP, HER HEART BEATING JUST A LITTLE FASTER. 

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME, SHE WASN’T RESISTING THE THRILL.

ALL IN THE NAME OF VALENTINE’S DAY.

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READY FOR WHO?

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BEVERLY TOSSED HER PHONE ONTO THE BED, STARING AT HER REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR.

HER HEART IS STILL RACING. SHE HAD SAID YES.

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SHE SMOOTHER HER HANDS OVER HER GIFTED PINK AND GOLD CRUSTED VERSACE ROBE, PACING HER BEDROOM FLOOR. WAS SHE REALLY ABOUT TO DO THIS?

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BEFORE SHE COULD SECOND-GUESS HERSELF, SHE GRABBED HER PHONE AND OPENED THE GROUP CHAT:

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✨SINGLE & THRIVING✨

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BEVERLY: “LADIES.. I THINK I JUST DID SOMETHING.”

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JAYDA: “OH SH*T. SPILL. NOW”

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TONI: “WAIT.. IS THIS ABOUT LAWRENCE?”

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BEVERLY: “MORE LIKE THE MAN WHO’S ABOUT TO MAKE ME FORGET HIM.”

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JAYDA: “BIIIIIIITCH. FINALLY”

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TONI: “LMAO. WAIT, WAIT. WHO IS HE??”

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BEVERLY: “BLACK SHADES. GOLD TOOTH.”

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JAYDA: “NOT HIM 👀👀.”

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TONI: “GIRL. YOU PLAYIN’ A DANGEROUS GAME.”

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BEVERLY CHEWED HER LIP, STARING AT HER SCREEN. WAS SHE?

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BEVERLY: “DANGEROUS OR OVERDUE?”

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THE TYPING BUBBLES POPPED UP IMMEDIATELY.

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JAYDA: “OVER. DAMN. DUE. BABYGIRL.”

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TONI: “FACTS. THAT MAN BEEN CURVING YOU FOR YEARS AND YOU FINALLY SAID F*CK IT? I RESPECT IT.”

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JAYDA: “IF LAWRENCE CAN HAVE HIS “WORK EMERGENCIES” EVERY DAMN HOLIDAY, WHY YOU GOTTA BE THE ONE SITTING AT HOME LOOKING DUMB?”

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BEVERLY EXHALED. THEY WEREN’T WRONG. THEY NEVER WERE.

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SHE TYPED BACK:

BEVERLY: “Y’ALL COMING OVER? I NEED TO GET FINE AS HELL.”

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TONI: “SAY LESS. ON MY WAY.”

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JAYDA: “GIRL, I ALREADY GOT THE WINE CHILLING.”

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URBAN CINDERELLA

THE CORK POPPED.

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A STREAM OF ROSÉ SPILLED OVER THE RIM OF JAYDA’S GLASS AS SHE POURED, FILLING IT TO THE TOP BEFORE PASSING IT TO BEVERLY. 

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“TO NEW BEGINNINGS,” JAYDA SAID, SMIRKING. 

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“TO BAD DECISIONS,” TONI CORRECTED WITH A WINK. 

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BEVERLY LAUGHED, TAKING A SIP. THE CHILLED SWEETNESS SLID DOWN HER THROAT, BUT THE WARMTH IN HER CHEST WASN’T FROM THE WINE.

IT WAS FROM THE THRILL.

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JAYDA TURNED UP THE MUSIC, SINÉAD HARNETT’S “THE MOST” HUMMING THROUGH THE SPEAKERS.

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“ALRIGHT, LET’S GET YOU FINE AS HELL,” TONI SAID,

 CRACKING HER KNUCKLES LIKE THIS WAS WAS A MISSION. 

“HAIR FIRST.”

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BEVERLY SAT IN FRONT OF THE VANITY,

WATCHING HERSELF IN THE MIRROR AS JAYDA RAN A FLAT IRON THROUGH HER HAIR, SLEEK AND SHARP.

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TONI LINED HER LIPS WITH DEEP BROWN, BLENDING IT INTO THE PERFECT OMBRÉ BEFORE SLICKING ON A NUDE GLOSS.

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THE TRANSFORMATION WAS COMING TO LIFE, BUT AS SHE STARED AT HERSELF— REALLY STARED — A THOUGHT CRAWLED INTO HER MIND. 

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WHO WAS THIS FOR?

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FOR YEARS, SHE HAD BEEN THE WIFE WHO WAITED. THE WIFE WHO BELIEVED IN LOYALTY, PATIENCE, AND THE BIGGER PICTURE. BUT NOW?

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NOW, SHE WAS STEPPING INTO A ROLE SHE NEVER THOUGHT SHE’D PLAY.

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THE BACK-UP PLAN. 

THE THRILL-SEEKER.

THE WOMAN WHO DIDN’T CARE.

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EXCEPT… SHE DID CARE.

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SHE CARED ABOUT WHAT THIS MEANT. 

WHAT IT SAID ABOUT HER.

WHAT IT CONFIRMED ABOTU LAWRENCE.

WHAT IT PROVED ABOUT LOVE IN 2025.

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MAYBE JAYDA WAS RIGHT. MAYBE EVERYONE HAD A BACK UP PLAN.

OR MAYBE… SHE HAD JUST FINALLY BECOME SOMEONE ELSE’S.

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“YOU GOOD?” TONI ASKED, 

WATCHING HER IN THE MIRROR.

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BEVERLY BLINKED, SNAPPING OUT OF HER THOUGHTS.

SHE SMIRKED. “YEAH, I’M GOOD.”

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JAYDA FLUFFED BEVERLY’S HAIR, STEPPING BACK. “GIRL, I HATE TO GAS YOU UP BUT… DAMN.”

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BEVERLY TURNED HER HEAD FROM SIDE TO SIDE, TAKING HERSELF IN. THE SILKY HAIR. THE GLOSSY LIPS. THE GLOW.

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“NOW THE DRESS,” TONI SAID, ALREADY PULLING IT OFF THE HANGER.

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BEVERLY STOOD, STEPPING OUT OF HER ROBE AND INTO THE DEEP RED SATIN SLIP DRESS, HUGGING HER IN ALL THE RIGHT PLACES. TONI ADJUSTED THE STRAPS, JAYDA SMOOTHED THE FABRIC DOWN HER WAIST, AND BEVERLY…

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BEVERLY TOOK A BREATH.

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MAYBE THIS WASN’T HER. 

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MAYBE SHE WAS JUST PLAYING THE GAME FOR ONE NIGHT.

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BUT ONE THING FOR SURE.

SHE WAS DONE WAITING.

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JAYDA HANDED HER THE HEELS. CLEAR, GLASS-LIKE STILETTOS.

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“DAMN, CINDERELLA,” TONI TEASED. “YOU JUST MISSING THE CARRIAGE.”

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BEVERLY STEPPED INTO THE SHOES, STARING AT HERSELF ONE LAST TIME IN THE MIRROR.

NO PRINCE WAS COMING TO SAVE HER.

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TONIGHT, SHE WAS SAVING HERSELF.

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“LET’S GO,” SHE SAID, GRABBING HER PURSE.

AND JUST LIKE THAT, THE CLOCK STARTED.

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THE RIDE TO NOWHERE.

BEVERLY SLID INTO THE PASSENGER SEAT AND SHUT THE DOOR, 

ADJUSTING HER DRESS AS THE SCENT OF BLACK ICE AIR FRESHENER AND CHEAP COLOGNE FILLED HER NOSE.

THE CAMRY PURRED TO LIFE — NOT A SLEEK, BLACK BENZ. NOT EVEN A HELLCAT. JUST A REGULAR-ASS CAMRY WITH A CRACKED DASHBOARD AND AN AUX CORD HANGING LOOSE FROM THE CONSOLE.

SHE BIT HER LIP TO STOP HERSELF FROM LAUGHING.

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SO THIS IS MR. GOLD TOOTH?

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THE SAME MAN WHO OOZED CONFIDENCE IN HER DMs, 

WHO HAD BEEN LIKING HER PICTURES FROM THE SHADOWS LIKE HE WAS SOME HIGH-VALUE MYSTERY?

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THIS WAS THE MAN SHE WAS ABOUT TO RISK IT ALL FOR?

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BEVERLY TURNED HER HEAD, TAKING HIM IN.

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THE BLACK SHADES STAYED ON, EVEN IN THE DIM LIGHT OF THE CAR. THE GOLD TOOTH FLASHED AS HE SMIRKED, GRIPPING THE STEERING WHEEL WITH THAT FAKE “BOSS” ENERGY SOME MEN WORE LIKE COLOGNE.

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“DAMN” HE SAID, LOOKING HER UP AND DOWN. “I KNEW YOU WAS FINE, BUT SEEING YOU IN PERSON?” HE SHOOK HIS HEAD, GRINNING. “DIFFERENT.”

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BEVERLY SMILED, BUT INSIDE, SHE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT. MORE.

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BUT INSTEAD, SHE WAS IN A CAMRY WITH A MAN WHO TALKED LIKE HE OWNED THE CITY BUT WAS BARELY LEASING HIS OWN PERSONA. 

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SHE TURNED TOWARD THE WINDOW, WATCHING THE CITY LIGHTS BLUR PAST.

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MAYBE SHE HAD LOST HER MIND.

MAYBE SHE WAS OVER CORRECTING.

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LAWRENCE WAS A NARCISSTIC, MATERIALISTIC A**HOLE. BUT AT LEAST HE WAS CONSISTENT.

GOLD TOOTH? HE WAS AN OFF—BRAND DREAM WRAPPED IN FAKE CONFIDENCE.

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BUT SHE NEEDED THIS.

SHE NEEDED DIFFERENT.

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EVEN IF DIFFERENT WAS A BROKE WOMANIZER WITH A CLEAN LINEUP AND AN EMPTY GAS TANK.

EVEN IF THIS WASN’T THE CHANGE SHE ACTUALLY NEEDED.

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“YOU QUIET,” GOLD TOOTH SAID, CUTTING HIS EYES TOWARDS HER. “ YOU NERVOUS OR SOMETHING?”

BEVERLY SMIRKED. “SOMETHING LIKE THAT.”

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HE TURNED THE RADIO UP, NODDING HIS HEAD TO A SONG HE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE, RAPPING ALONG TO LYRICS THAT DIDN’T IMPRESS HER.

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BEVERLY EXHALED, SINKING INTO THE LEATHER SEAT.

THIS WASN’T HER FAIRYTALE.

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HELL, THIS WASN’T EVEN A GOOD PLOT TWIST.

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BUT FOR TONIGHT, SHE WOULD RIDE THE STORY OUT. 

AND FIGURE OUT THE ENDING LATER.

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CAVIAR, CHAOS AND CONSENQUENCES

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THE CAMRY ROLLED A STOP OUTSIDE CAVIAR RUSSE,

IT’S PRESENCE INSULTING AMONG THE LINEUPS OF BENTLEYS, MAYBACHS, AND ROLLS’ ROYCES OUTSIDE THE MICHELIN-STARRED RESTAURANT.

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BEVERLY FELT IT BEFORE SHE EVEN SAW IT.

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THE WEIGHT OF DEJA VU.

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THE LAST TIME SHE STOOD IN FRONT OF THIS RESTAURANT,

SHE WAS ON LAWRENCE’S ARM.

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SHE REMEMBERED HOW HE HAD GUIDED HER INSIDE, HIS TOUCH LINGERING ON HER LOWER BACK. HOW HE HAD WHISPERED IN HER EAR, TELLING HER, “ONLY THE BEST FOR MY BABY-GIRL.”

BACK WHEN SHE WAS HIS BABY-GIRL.

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NOW?

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NOW, LAWRENCE, WAS LEADING ANOTHER WOMEN RIGHT THROUGH THOSE SAME DOORS.

AND BEVERLY?

SHE WAS STANDING NEXT TO A BROKE WOMANIZER IN A CAMRY.

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THE MATH WASN’T MATHING.

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A VALET APPROACHED THE CAR, BUT GOLD TOOTH WAVED HIM OFF, STEPPING OUT LIKE HE JUST ARRIVED AT THE MET GALA.

BEVERLY HESITATED BEFORE CLIMBING OUT, HER HEELS CLICKING AGAINST THE PRISTINE PAVEMENT.

SHE BARELY HAD TIME TO ADJUST HER DRESS BEFORE SHE SAW IT.

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THE ROLLS ROYCE.

THE DRIVER OPENING THE BACK DOOR. 

AND STEPPING INTO THE GOLDEN GLOW OF VACIAR RUSSE’S ENTRANCE—

LAWRENCE.

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WITH ANOTHER WOMAN.

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BEVERLY’S BREATH HITCHED.

HER GO-TO RESTAURANT. THEIR RESTAURANT. AND HE BROUGHT HER HERE?

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HE WAS DRESSED IN A MIDNIGHT BLACK TOM FORD SUIT, LOOKING EVERY BIT THE POWERFUL MAN HE PORTRAYED HIMSELF TO BE.

BUT THE WOMAN ON HIS ARM?

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RED SATIN DRESS.

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SLEEK. ELEGANT. TOO FAMILIAR.

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THE REALIZATION CAME SLOW, LIKE THE UNIVERSE WAS TAKING IT’S TIME TO DRAG BEVERLY.

BECAUSE THAT WASN’T JUST LAWRENCE’S DATE.

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THAT WAS GOLD TOOTH’S WIFE.

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AND JUST LIKE THATM THE ILLUSION SHATTERED.

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BEVERLY TURNED TO GOLD TOOTH.

GOLD TOOTH TURNED TO BEVERLY.

AND THEY BOTH KNEW.

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“…SHIT,” GOLD TOOTH MUTTERED UNDER HIS BREATH.

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BEVERLY LET OUT A SHORT, HUMOURLESS LAUGH. THE IRONY WAS TOO MUCH.

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“YOU GOOD?” HE ASKED, LOOKING A LITTLE NERVOUS NOW.

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BEVERLY BLINKED, SLOWLY SHAKING HER HEAD. THIS WAS BEYOND ‘GOOD’.

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SHE WATCHED AS LAWRENCE LEANED INTO THE WOMAN’S EAR, WHISPERING SOMETHING. 

THE SAME WAY HE USED TO DO TO HER.

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BEVERLY’S JAW TIGHTENED.

SHE HAD COME OUT TONIGHT THINKING SHE WAS DOING SOMETHING.

THINKING SHE WAS CHOOSING HERSELF.

BUT THIS WASN’T CHOOSING HERSELF.

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THIS WAS RUNNING IN THE SAME DAMN CIRCLE — JUST WITH A DIFFERENT CLOWN.

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GOLD TOOTH CLEARED HIS THROAT, ADJUSTING HIS CHAIN. “LOOK, MA—“

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“DON’T,” BEVERLY CUT IN, GOLDING UP A HAND. “JUST… DON’T.”

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GOLD TOOTH CLOSED HIS MOUTH.

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BEVERLY TURNED BACK TO THE RESTAURANT, EYES LOCKED ON LAWRENCE. 

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HE HADN’T NOTICED HER YET.

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SHE COULD WALK INSIDE. CAUSE A SCENE. FLIP THE SCRIPT.

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BUT AS SHE STARED AT HIM, STANDING EXACTLY WHERE SHE ONCE STOOD, DOING EXACTLY WHAT HE ALWAYS DID—

SHE REALIZED SOMETHING.

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LAWRENCE WASN’T HER PROBLEM ANYMORE.

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AND NEITHER WAS GOLD TOOTH.

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WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD, BEVERLY PULLED OUT HER PHONE AND ORDERED AN UBER BLACK.

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“DAMN,” GOLD TOOTH MUTTERED, WATCHING HER. “YOU REALLY JUST GON’ LEAVE ME LIKE THAT?”

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BEVERLY EXHALED, SMOOTHING A HAND OVER HER DRESS.

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SHE LOOKED AT HIM, 

THEN AT THE ROLLS-ROYCE, 

THEN AT THE RESTAURANT THAT ONCE HELD MEANING.

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FINALLY, SHE TURNED TOWARD THE STREET, WATCHING AS HER UBER — A SLEEK, BLACK ESCALADE — PULLED UP.

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SHE GAVE GOLD TOOTH ONE LAST SMIRK BEFORE STEEPING INSIDE. 

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AND JUST LIKE THAT, THE NIGHT ENDED EXACTLY HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO.

WITH HER, CHOOSING HERSELF.

#IN10MACY

#10OUT

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