Page 24 of In Another Time

Justin leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You keep saying that, but I think it’s because you’re scared. Scared to let someone see the real you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Spare me the psychoanalysis. You knew what this was from day one.”

He shook his head, grabbing his hoodie from the back of a chair and slipping it on. “You’re gonna regret this one day, Lennox. Someone’s gonna come along and show you what you’re missing, and it won’t be me. I’m done with this shit.”

“Your loss,” I said, walking him to the door.

He paused at the threshold, looking at me with a mix of disappointment and sadness. “Take care of yourself, Lennox.”

“I always do,” I replied, shutting the door before he could say another word. For a moment, I stood there, staring at the closed door and feeling. . . nothing. Or at least, that was what I told myself.

“Alexa,” I said, shaking off the moment. “Play ‘Diva’ by Beyoncé.”

As the opening beat filled the air, I pranced through my apartment, shedding my robe and slippers and heading to my closet. Work was calling, and I had no time for feelings or regrets.

I pulled on a tailored pantsuit and stepped into my favorite red bottom heels. By the time I finished my makeup and styled my hair, I was back to feeling like myself—powerful, focused, untouchable.

As I drove through the busy streets of Chicago, the city seemed alive with energy, even in the early morning. The weather had finally broken to Spring, ridding the air of its frigid chill. My favorite coffee shop wasn’t far, and I needed my caffeine fix before diving into another demanding day.

I pulled into the small parking lot of Beans & Brews, my go-to coffee shop, at my usual time. Stepping out of the car, I adjusted my oversized coat and headed inside. As always, the line snaked around the quaint little café, filled with groggy customers clutching their phones and laptops. But I didn’t have time for lines. With a confident stride, I walked past everyone, cash already in hand.

“Excuse me!” a woman near the front of the line exclaimed, glaring at me. “There’s a line here.”

“Yeah, a long one.” A man chimed in, scowling.

I barely glanced in their direction as I reached the counter. The barista, a young woman with bright red hair, smiled when she saw me. “Good morning, Ms. Anderson. Your usual?”

“Of course.” I handed her the cash, ignoring the grumbles behind me.

The woman behind the counter handed me my coffee in record time, and I gave her a nod of thanks. Sliding on my sunglasses, I turned to leave, the heels of my designer pumps clicking confidently on the tiled floor.

“Must be nice,” someone muttered as I passed, but I didn’t care. I was used to it.

Out on the sidewalk, I sipped my coffee and let the warm liquid energize me for the day ahead. As I slid into my car, I placed the cup in the holder, pulled out my phone, and began scrolling through social media while navigating the morning traffic.

That was when I saw it.

The post was from Sherelle, and the image immediately caught my eye. A gold-and-white wedding invitation adorned with elegant calligraphy.

Omir & Anya.

I gripped the steering wheel as my eyes darted to the caption:

“Two amazing people tying the knot!

Can’t wait for the big day.

Love is such a beautiful thing.

#BlackLove #WeddingSeason”

My heart slammed against my ribs as my foot instinctively pressed the brake harder than necessary. The car jolted to a stop, and I barely registered the sound of the horn from the driver behind me. Hot coffee spilled out of the cup and onto my lap, soaking through my designer pants.

“Damn it!” I shouted, yanking a tissue from the center console to blot at the mess. My hands shook, not from the spill but from the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

Omir. Anya. Wedding.

The words felt like tiny knives slicing through my chest. Memories came flooding back—the day I stopped by his house and the gorgeous woman walking out. The one he was now marrying. I also thought back to our nights together, the intensity, the heart flutters. I thought I had buried those feelings a long time ago, choosing to focus on my career and leaving everything else behind. But now, it was as if the past had clawed its way back to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

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