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This week rang the doorbell, pushed past me, and made itself comfortable in the chaos like it had a spare key and opinions about the furniture. Shoes on the couch, boundaries optional, volume permanently set to unnecessary. It wasn’t subtle, and it wasn’t apologetic. It also arrived carrying a surprising amount of sexy, which only complicated things further. So yes, we need to talk.
Kat Richardson, Reporting for Duty (And Side-Eye)
Kat came in hot, immediately dragging her mother for dressing like a retired video vixen who still knows where the camera is, while casually collecting attention from men who absolutely believed they had a chance. Kat doesn’t yet realize that one of those men is significantly less random than he appears, but based on the grifter-adjacent aesthetic alone, the suspicion feels earned. Sometimes your spirit sees a red flag before your brain catches up.
Nicole, meanwhile, looked incredible. The wares were fully on display, the confidence was loud, and the energy had shifted in a way that demanded attention. Kat, however, remained unmoved. Where Nicole sees herself stepping into a new era, Kat sees a caution sign with flashing lights and an estimated impact time. She isn’t wrong, she’s just early.
The morning after, Kat confronts Nicole and makes something very clear. She isn’t upset that Nicole is dating. She’s upset about how Nicole is moving while doing it. Kat was comfortable with Carlton because he felt familiar, reliable, and unlikely to disappear with stolen copper wiring or a mysterious Venmo request. Nicole pushes back hard, making it known that she refuses to be boxed in, padded, or pre-approved for comfort.
And because this is Kat, the conversation does not end there.
She escalates straight to Gran, looking for wisdom, validation, or at minimum someone to confirm she’s not crazy. The talk is calm on the surface, but Kat leaves unconvinced, which is usually the moment you realize she’s onto something. Her decision to begin a light social media investigation is less curiosity and more internal alarm system. I hear it too, Kat.
The rest of her week stays relatively quiet, but the show continues to drop ominous breadcrumbs about future entanglements and looming danger. The foreshadowing here is subtle in the way a brick through a window is subtle, so yes, I’m paying attention.
Sisters, Situationships, and Choosing Violence
Kat also crossed paths with her half-sister Eva this week, reopening their ugly history of competitive breathing and unresolved resentment. This time, however, the balance of power had shifted, and Eva felt it immediately.
Kat had a completely innocent conversation with Eva’s situationship, Izaiah—polite, brief, and harmless. Meanwhile, Eva spiraled almost instantly, exposing insecurities that Kat eagerly pressed like elevator buttons. Kat poured salt directly into a wound Eva had carved open herself and walked away, leaving Izaiah to reevaluate several life choices.
Eva may technically still have his attention, but Kat won the chemistry battle without effort. It was effortless, devastating, and frankly a little rude, considering he’s sleeping with Eva. Colby Nixon and Ambyr Michelle continue to spark well together, but this feud needs momentum. Right now, it’s starting to feel repetitive and emotionally expensive, and I’d like either a decisive blow or a ceasefire.
Cancer, Chaos, and Questionable Parenting
Anita and Vernon remain absolutely adorable when they are not being deeply ineffective parents, which unfortunately continues to be a frequent condition.
Anita’s cancer diagnosis has thrown the entire family into a tailspin. Chelsea is back on drugs. Naomi is being secretive. Kat has entered full detective mode. Dani is playing with fire like she has asbestos gloves. Nicole appears to be auditioning for an entirely different show altogether. While none of this is directly Anita and Vernon’s fault, they are also doing very little to manage the fallout in a proactive way.
And before anyone blames the diagnosis entirely, let’s be honest. The cracks were already there.
They forced Dani to attend Bill’s wedding, which went memorably left. They covered for Martin while ignoring his mental health. And now Nicole is unraveling in real time while being told to stay strong and hold the family together like emotional duct tape. Dani gets coddled. Nicole gets tossed into the deep end with no life jacket and motivational quotes.
I adore the way Vernon loves Anita. Their devotion is beautiful. Tamara Tunie and Clifton Davis are shining, and the cancer storyline is being handled with care and gravity. I just wish I believed these two were better parents. This family needs an Iyanla-style sit-down immediately, because these dynamics are wild, and not in a fun, memeable way.
Nicole “Sex Kitten” Dupree and the Art of Mixed Signals
Nicole is serving whiplash in multiple directions, and the neck brace budget is climbing.
One minute, she insists she doesn’t want anything serious. The next, she’s climbing Carlton like he’s a tree. In a sit-down with Dani, Nicole casually admits Carlton is a beast in the bedroom, or the carpet, same difference, while also expressing concern that things are starting to feel a little too real for her liking.
That’s fine, truly. Play the field. She’s communicating verbally, but her actions are telling a completely different story, and they’re doing so very loudly.
After spending one night with Carlton, Nicole finds herself reassessing everything—her clothes, her energy, her choices. She is evolving and exploring, which isn’t a crime. However, the concern is that she might be forcing a transformation before fully understanding the emotional cost it may entail.
Carlton is both her safety and her unraveling. He’s sweet, intentional, sexy, and deeply real, possibly too real for where she actually is. She says she wants casual, but her behavior suggests emotional intimacy with express shipping. He’s the first man since her ex, the first man in her bedroom, and the first man she’s admitted emotional closeness with in a way she once doubted she’d ever feel again.
What’s next feels inevitable. Nicole is going to bolt, and Carlton is going to be left holding feelings he didn’t ask for but absolutely didn’t avoid. He just wants her happy. The heartbreak feels imminent, but not pointless. These two are already must-see TV, and if this is the chemistry while things are good, the fighting and making up is going to be explosive. I am fully seated.
Kial is clearly meant to represent temptation. Unfortunately, he’s reading as suspicious and horny. I’m told he’s spontaneous and fun. What I see is a middle-aged man dressed like he borrowed clothes from his young adult sons, whom he says he has. Why is he always in black? Why does he look like he sleeps in his car? Is he okay? I have questions.
There’s attraction there, sure, but it feels less like a solution and more like a symptom. He’s lazy too. Anyone who asks someone on a date and then disappears for a month isn’t mysterious; they’re suspicious. Between the double talk, the vibes, and the heavy foreshadowing, the flags are waving loudly. I’ll give it time, but right now his personality has the texture of cereal left in milk too long.
Theodore Richardson and the Thirty-Year Floral Scam
Whew, Theodore. The same roses? For thirty years?
So the system is sleep with a woman and call the florist? At this point, they probably answer the phone with “Same as last time, Dr. Richardson?” There is no innovation here, no evolution, no imagination. Nicole, were you under mild sedation when you married this man?
And then there’s Shanice. Girl.
Only you could win the Get Off the Floor Award two weeks in a row. Leslie, ever the chaos coordinator, rushes to the hospital to inform Shanice that roses are Theodore’s signature move after sleeping together for the first time. Nicole then unknowingly delivers the finishing blow by confirming she received the same rose after her first night with him.
You would think this would inspire caution. Instead, Shanice decides she’s winning the rose competition because she got more, which is bleak. She’s now competing with a ghost and a woman Theodore will never emotionally let go of. A promising character reduced to scoreboard logic. Please. Get off the floor. The floor is not your friend.
This week moved like a warning dressed up as entertainment. Conversations happened that can’t be taken back, lines were crossed that will absolutely matter later, and choices were made without anyone fully owning the consequences yet. What looked like fun or freedom in the moment carried quiet weight underneath it, and the show made it clear that nothing here was accidental. This was a week of positioning, not payoff, where behavior spoke louder than dialogue, and the mess settled just long enough to feel unstable.
I know what I know.
Join me on Fairmont Unfiltered, Friday nights at 7:15 CST, where the side-eye is intentional, the notes are detailed, and we never pretend the floor is comfortable once you’ve chosen to lie down there.
