Volkov

Chapter 5

I've always thought of myself as prepared for just about anything—deadlines, last-minute work requests, chaotic meetings. But as I stepped out of my Uber and walked toward the familiar coffee shop, I felt something I wasn't used to: nerves.

This wasn't just any meetup. I was about to see my younger sister, Rahima, and my two best friends, Cynthia and Sade. The four of us together was always... a lot. Between Rahima's blunt honesty, Cynthia's sharp wit, and Sade's smooth charm, I sometimes felt like the odd one out—a fourth act in their three-woman comedy troupe.

The coffee shop was our spot—a cozy little corner space that smelled like roasted beans and freshly baked pastries. It had always been our safe haven, filled with good vibes and warm memories. As I opened the door, the familiar scent hit me, and through the window, I could already see Rahima's curls bouncing as she laughed, sandwiched between Cynthia and Sade.

Rahima was glowing—literally. Her caramel skin seemed brighter than usual, her natural curls spilling over her shoulders like a crown. At only ten weeks pregnant, she was already radiating that "pregnancy glow." She hadn't told most people yet, but the four of us were in on her little secret. Her hand instinctively rested on her still-flat stomach as she laughed, a gesture I was beginning to notice more and more.

I spotted Sade and Cynthia sitting across from her. Sade, petite and striking, looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine ad even in her casual cropped sweater and high-waisted jeans. Her smooth, dark skin and sharp bone structure always gave her this effortless, goddess-like presence. Next to her was Cynthia, with her golden-brown skin and sly smile, her petite frame practically vibrating with energy. She could've been a model, too, but Cynthia's wit and tenacity had landed her in law school instead.

And then there was me—tall, curvy, and unapologetically bold. At 5'10", I was the Megan Thee Stallion of the group, towering over my slim-framed friends. My thick thighs and hourglass figure had always been the envy of strangers, but I carried myself with a grounded confidence. While Sade and Cynthia exuded sleek, modelesque vibes, I was the one who turned heads when I walked into a room.

"Rae!" Rahima's voice rang out as she waved me over, her face lighting up like I'd just made her day.

I smiled, feeling some of my nerves fade, and made my way to their table. Rahima practically launched herself at me as soon as I got close, her tiny frame wrapping me in a tight hug.

"Damn, Rahima, you're already in mom mode," I teased, laughing as she squeezed me like her life depended on it.

"You couldn't get here faster?" she shot back, pulling away to give me a once-over. "You look tired. Are you sleeping? Eating? Please tell me you're eating."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice to see you too, Rahima. But yes, I'm eating, and no, I don't need a lecture. Don't start parenting me before you even pop that baby out."

She grinned, placing a protective hand on her stomach. "Someone's gotta make sure you're good. My niece or nephew needs a properly functioning auntie."

"See what I've been dealing with?" Cynthia said, leaning back in her chair with a knowing grin. "Rahima's been in full-on 'mom energy' since she got here. She even tried to force-feed us muffins."

"They're good muffins!" Rahima argued, plopping back into her seat. "Y'all just don't appreciate quality."

"They taste like sugar-free sadness," Sade said dryly, sipping her tea. Her lips twitched with amusement, but her tone stayed deadpan. "We're doing you a favor, Rahima. Your kid deserves better snack genes."

The whole table burst into laughter, and finally, I felt myself relax.

"So," Rahima started, fixing her big-sister gaze on me. "How's work? You look... stressed. What's going on?"

I slid into the empty chair beside her and let out a sigh. "Work is... a lot. Big contracts. Long hours. And my boss—"

"Ohhhh, the boss," Cynthia interrupted, her tone full of teasing curiosity.

My stomach dropped. I shot a look at Rahima, who sat there blinking at me like she wasn't the one who'd spilled the tea.

"Rahima..."

"What?" She raised her hands, feigning innocence. "You've been MIA for days! I was worried! And then you came to brunch last week acting all weird about some beardy CEO. What was I supposed to do—keep it to myself?"

"Yes!"

Sade smirked, sipping her tea like she was watching her favorite drama unfold. "Oh, this is about Maksim. Go on, Rae. Spill."

Cynthia leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Don't leave anything out. I need a full picture of this mysterious man and whatever 'vibes' Rahima claims you've been giving."

"There are no vibes," I said quickly, feeling the heat rise to my face. "Rahima's exaggerating. Maksim's just..." I hesitated, clearing my throat. "He's intense. And yes, fine, he's attractive. But it's work. That's it."

Rahima raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Sure, Rae. Because the way you blushed at brunch definitely screamed 'just work.'"

"Don't you have a baby to worry about instead of my business?" I shot back, trying to steer the attention off me.

"You are my business," Rahima said firmly. "And while we're on the subject, how's the love life looking? Or is it still..." She made a dramatic desert-dry sound, waving her hand vaguely.

Cynthia burst out laughing. "Don't shame her like that! Rae's just focused on her career—doing big things, getting paid, driving her Jeep. No time for nonsense."

"Exactly," I said, grateful for the save.

But Sade wasn't done. She set her tea down and fixed me with a look that told me I wasn't getting out of this so easily. "Listen, Rae, if this Maksim guy is as fine as Rahima says, why not at least see where it goes? You're a whole goddess. Stop acting like you don't deserve someone who's into you."

I sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. "I just... don't want to complicate things. It's work. Mixing personal stuff with professional life never ends well."

Rahima reached over, squeezing my hand. "We just want you to be happy, Rae. That's all. You deserve someone who sees you the way Jonathan sees me—or how Thabo and Rasheed see Cynthia and Sade. You're amazing, and if this guy's paying attention, maybe he knows it too."

I felt my chest tighten at her words. They meant well, I knew they did. And maybe—just maybe—they were right.

"All right," I said finally, raising my coffee cup. "Here's to figuring it all out. One day at a time."

The girls cheered, clinking their mugs with mine, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself breathe. Whatever came next, I knew I wouldn't be facing it alone.