The Tranquil Vintessa

It had been a few months since Nikita and I last caught up, and I was excited to see her again. We typically have these long, two-to-three-hour gab fests, filling each other in on work, dating, and major life events. This time, I had a story to tell—she hadn’t yet heard about Erin and my breakup.

As I walked up to the restaurant, a gust of wind caught my maxi skirt, making it billow behind me. Slightly disheveled, I rushed inside and spotted her waiting at the host desk. We exchanged pleasantries and “how are yous” as the host arrived to seat us. After a quick scan of the menu, we launched into our usual catch-up. I told her all the details—the fight, the eventual reconciliation, and my decision to focus on myself this year. No more unnecessary drama. Just me, doing what I love. She smiled politely, offering a few words of encouragement.

Then, when it was her turn to speak, she hesitated before asking, “Have you noticed we’re not sitting at the bar? And that I didn’t order a drink?”

My heart sank, but the smile on her face told me everything.

“You’re pregnant?!” I exclaimed.

She nodded. “Yup. Three months.”

She went on to tell me about the father, their turbulent relationship, and the likelihood of raising the baby on her own. Still, she seemed happy, and her family was excited for her. I smiled and listened, truly happy for her, but I couldn’t shake the creeping sense of dread.

We weren’t the closest of friends, but she was one of the few I had here. And I knew how these things usually went. The baby arrives. It’s more work than expected. They move closer to home for support. And that’s it. Friendship over. Lives split off in different directions.

We finished our meal, and as we got ready to leave, she mentioned the baby shower and all the prep work involved. I smiled and offered to help, but she told me her friends in Charlotte were already handling everything. Still, I extended the offer again, casually—if she needed anything, even with the move, I’d be here. She paused briefly before smiling. “Yeah.”

And that was it. In that moment, I knew exactly where I would—or wouldn’t—be when the baby arrived.

As we stepped outside, she reminded me about the shower. “Of course!” I replied, forcing a little more enthusiasm into my voice. We hugged, said our goodbyes, and parted ways.

Since I was already out, I wandered into some nearby shops, letting my mind drift. Why is it that when a friend gets pregnant—planned or not—their childless friends are left by the wayside? If you’re not in the core group, the ‘day ones,’ you somehow become ‘day none.’ I’d seen it happen countless times. Even if you stick around in the beginning, eventually, the relationship withers, and both parties are left wondering what happened.

Maybe that’s just how life works. People cross paths at the perfect time, and everything aligns—until it doesn’t. Sometimes, friendships are lifelong. Other times, they’re just moments, filled with laughter before life pulls you in different directions. Maybe this was one of those times.

I let my fingers dance across the fabrics in a department store, soaking in the quiet realization. This might be one of the last times I see Nikita. Maybe our friendship was always meant to be seasonal. And while I hope that’s not the case, I silently said my goodbyes as I stepped out of the store.

Maybe I’ll return to it one day.