The world buzzed outside, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Melissa sat by the nursery window, the early morning sun brushing against her bare legs. The silence was both a gift and a curse. It gave her space to breathe and to remember.
There had been no calls from Max in over two weeks. Not even a text.
Just that letter. Just the booties.
And somehow, that stung more than all his angry words ever had.
For the first time in weeks, she whispered the truth to herself:
"I miss him."
She touched her belly gently. A soft flutter answered her.
"You feel it too, don't you?" she murmured.
Her phone buzzed.
Not Max. Not Avery. Not Rama.
It was Lorato, her childhood friend from G-West, the one who used to sneak into her mother's backyard with stolen jam sandwiches and dreams too big for their pockets.
Lorato:
"Hey, Boss Queen. I'm in town. Can we meet? Just us. No cameras. No drama."
Melissa smiled. "Finally," she whispered. "Something real."
The low hum of the restaurant buzzed like background static as Melissa and Lorato settled into a quiet corner booth at Eclipse Lounge, a trendy yet cozy spot nestled in the heart of Gaborone. The soft lighting cast golden halos over the wine glasses, and the scent of grilled herbs and marinated lamb floated in the air. Melissa sat back, one hand absentmindedly cradling her belly, her eyes scanning the room like a lioness watching for movement.
Lorato, in her usual no-nonsense tone, broke the silence. "You've been distant lately. And don't give me that 'just busy' excuse. I know you. You're cooking something besides that baby."
Melissa chuckled softly, her smile brittle. "Is it that obvious?"
"You're as transparent as a window, babe. Spill."
Melissa took a sip of water, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment. "It's Rama. He's... he's kind, funny, brilliant in his craft. And being around him is... easy."
Lorato raised an eyebrow. "Easy? That's not what I expect to hear from the most calculated woman I know."
"That's exactly it," Melissa whispered, her gaze distant. "With Max, it was fire and fury. With Rama, it's peace. And I think I'm confusing peace for love."
Lorato leaned forward, her voice softening. "You're not in love with Rama, Mel. You're in love with what he represents. Escape. Simplicity. Healing."
Melissa blinked back something wet and unexpected. "Then why does it feel like betrayal every time I catch myself smiling at him?"
"Because your heart never let Max go," Lorato said gently. "You're hurt. Deeply. And Rama is the band-aid. Not the cure."
Melissa looked down at her belly again, silent.
Just then, the air changed.
Lorato's eyes widened first. "Oh, hell no."
Melissa turned slowly, already knowing before she saw. Max Botho. Tall, dark, imposing as he walked into the restaurant with none other than Tsholo Ben, her office assistant at FireThreads. Tsholo, smiling a little too brightly, clung to his arm like she belonged there. Their chemistry was unmistakable. Flirty. Intimate.
It took a moment for the sight to fully register. Melissa's stomach twisted. Not from the baby. From something deeper.
She watched Tsholo, her Tsholo,laugh at something Max said. The same laugh she'd used in the office when Melissa told her she trusted her with her life. The betrayal slammed into her chest like a steel bat.
"That... snake," Melissa hissed.
"Calm down!"
"I trusted her, Lo! She handled my personal calendar, read my drafts before they went public. She was there when I cried in the office bathroom. And he's doing this on purpose."
Max didn't look their way, but his posture was deliberate. Confident. He pulled out a chair for Tsholo like a gentleman straight out of an old movie.
Melissa grabbed her phone and texted her driver. "I need to leave. Now."
"Mel!"
"No. I need to breathe."
Max watched the door after Melissa had left.Tsholo smiled. "She saw us, didn't she?"
Max nodded, finishing his drink. "Good. Let her know I'm not the only one who can play this game." But even as he said it, his heart wasn't in it. He glanced toward the door again, hoping that she'd walk back in.
She didn't.
Outside, the air was cooler, crisp. The car slid to a stop, and she climbed in, trembling. Not from heartbreak but from fury. This wasn't about Max and Tsholo.
It was about control. She need to show Tsholo exactly who she is Melissa Kgomotso, and Max? He is in for a shock in a few days!
At the penthouse, Melissa walked past Rama in silence. He was working on a design sketch, headphones in. He looked up, startled by the storm in her expression.
"Melissa?"
She turned to him. And for a moment, just one fleeting second, she saw him again not the designer, not the broken man from Old Naledi, but the boy with the quiet eyes who made her smile.
"Can we talk?" he asked.Melissa didnt respond and just went to her room upstairs.
Rama sighed and windered just who have poked the tiger now!, heads would roll for sure.