He Ain’t Your Puppet, Amber! 😡 — Cocoa Explodes: ‘Keep Pushing, and You’ll Be Crying Alone!’ 💔🔥
The tension in the room was thicker than smoke off a backyard grill. Cocoa stood by the kitchen counter, arms crossed, lips pressed into a tight line as she watched Amber pace back and forth like a storm waiting to touch down.
Amber was fuming, her voice sharp with frustration. “He’s been acting different ever since Shayla called him. I know something’s up. And I swear, if he thinks I’m just gonna sit quiet and watch him play me—”
“That’s your problem right there,” Cocoa cut in, her voice low but laced with fire. “You don’t sit quiet. You always gotta bark. Always gotta be right.”
Amber snapped her head around. “Excuse me?”
Cocoa stepped forward, her presence loud even without raising her voice. “You heard me, sis. You think love is a game you can control. Like if you just say the right words or throw the right fit, he’s gonna fold. But let me tell you something — he ain’t your puppet.”
Amber scoffed. “So I’m just supposed to let him disrespect me? Let him talk to Shayla behind my back like it’s nothing?”
“Nah, you’re supposed to trust him. Or walk away. But what you don’t do is try to control every move he makes like he’s on a string. That’s not love — that’s insecurity dressed up in attitude.”
The room went quiet for a second. Even the clock on the wall seemed to pause.
Cocoa took a deep breath and softened her tone, just a bit. “Amber, I ain’t your enemy. I’m your girl. But somebody’s gotta say it — you’re about to push a good man right into the arms of the very woman you’re threatened by.”
Amber’s eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t know how Shayla operates? She’s waiting — waiting for me to slip so she can come right back in.”
Cocoa walked to the table and sat down. “Then why give her the satisfaction? Why be the drama? Why not be the peace he needs after a long day, instead of the fight he didn’t ask for?”
Amber stayed quiet. Her breathing slowed, but her jaw was still clenched.
Cocoa leaned in, her voice now a calm warning. “Let me break it down for you, real clear — keep pushing, and you’ll be crying alone. Ain’t no man gonna stay where he feels like he’s in court every day. Where every word turns into a cross-examination.”
Amber finally sat down, her anger giving way to something more vulnerable. “I just… I don’t wanna lose him.”
“Then stop trying to own him,” Cocoa said. “Let him choose you, every day — not outta guilt, not outta fear, but because you’re peace to his storm. Not the storm he’s running from.”
Amber looked down at her hands. Her voice was smaller now. “But what if he does go back to Shayla?”
“Then he was never yours to begin with,” Cocoa replied. “But at least you’ll know you didn’t lose him trying to be his warden instead of his woman.”
A long pause hung in the air. Then Cocoa stood and walked over to Amber, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Amber, you got a fire in you. But sometimes that fire burns the wrong things. Love ain’t about control — it’s about connection. Trust. Grace.”
Amber nodded slowly, the tears she’d been fighting finally breaking free.
“I don’t wanna be the reason he leaves,” she whispered.
“Then don’t be,” Cocoa said gently. “Be the reason he stays.”
Later That Evening…
Anthony walked into the house, phone in hand, looking tired but calm. Amber stood by the window, unsure of what to say.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He looked at her carefully. “You okay?”
She nodded, then took a breath. “I was outta line earlier. I let my fears talk for me. I’m sorry.”
Anthony blinked, surprised. “You serious?”
Amber managed a small smile. “Dead serious. I’ve been acting like I can control you. Like if I just yell loud enough, you’ll hear me better. But Cocoa was right…”
Anthony raised a brow. “Cocoa?”
“She told me I’m pushing you away. And she’s right.”
Anthony walked closer. “I’m not going anywhere, Amber. But I need peace. I got enough battles outside — I can’t come home to one too.”
“I know,” Amber whispered. “I wanna be your peace.”
Anthony reached for her hand. “Then let’s be real with each other. No more games. No more yelling. Just us.”
And in that moment, the storm calmed.
Back in the Kitchen…
Cocoa leaned against the counter, quietly sipping her tea with a knowing smirk.
“Finally,” she whispered to herself. “Somebody listened.”
Because at the end of the day, love isn’t about pulling strings — it’s about holding hands. And sometimes, all it takes is one bold friend to speak the truth that changes everything.
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