Samiah was more than happy to take a few of those meals off their hands. Sharing a home-cooked meal with London and Taylor beat going out to a restaurant. Samiah had discovered that, when it came to these two, the place wasn’t important; it was the company. She’d found something she hadn’t known she’d been missing in her life: true girlfriends.

Earlier, when she told them about the position she’d been offered at Trendsetters, Taylor and London both helped her see that no matter how fulfilling heading up the new Outreach Department might be, giving up on the dreams she had for her app would leave her dissatisfied in the end. She had reached that conclusion days ago, but hearing it from these two—women who got her, who understood her—reaffirmed what she already knew to be the only possible choice for her.

Over the course of these last couple of months, the boyfriend project had morphed into something more powerful than any of them had expected. This undertaking moved far beyond getting themselves in a position to find significant others. This was about finding their life’s truth.

As she sat here, enjoying good wine and even better company, Samiah recognized that she was solidly on that path.

She looked over to Taylor to find her downing the remaining wine in her glass with one huge gulp, then reaching for the wine bottle.

“Whoa there,” Samiah said, plucking the bottle from her hand. “You want to take it easy? Keep that up and you’ll be passed out drunk before we slice into the lasagna.”

“Good. I’m trying to get drunk,” she said.

“No shit. You look like you’re halfway there already.” Samiah poured San Pellegrino into a glass and switched Taylor’s wine stem with the mineral water. “You need to drink some of this before you have more wine,” she said. “Now, do you mind sharing why our resident health nut is trying to get drunk?”

Taylor shook her head.

“Nope, you don’t get to say no,” London said. She perched on the arm of the sofa. “These Friday night get-togethers are supposed to be about having a safe space to air our grievances. From what I’ve seen tonight, you sure as shit have some grievances you need to air out. Let us hear it.”

“Please.” Taylor covered her face with both hands and released a groan. “I honestly don’t want to talk about it. It’s just family crap that I’ve been dealing with my whole life. I’m over it.”

“Over it as in you want to drink yourself into a stupor and then punch the wall, or over it as in we should remove all sharp objects and pills from your apartment before allowing you to be there by yourself tonight?” London asked.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “I’m not suicidal.”