Page 73 of You'll Love it Here

My mom speaks excitedly in Farsi again, but Sami replies in English, still watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Yes well, I have a little restaurant near Mona’s building. We’ve been friends for a while. We just had dinner—” He stops short and winces at his mistake. “I meant, breakfast.”

The dread that floods through me is immediate. Sami and Iare going to be over the second it becomes public Lana’s sold the building, but my mom is never going to shut up about this for the rest of my life. I shouldn’t have slept with him. I knew this all along.

“And are things serious? Mona is always working.”

The cheeky grin Sami gives me is a nightmare. Before Sami can answer, my Mom rapid-fires another question: “What do you do for work?”

“I own a restaurant.”

“A restaurant! I love food!” But then her head turns just slightly off-screen, and she yells, “This guy who also owns a business says you can probably knock one hundred off your prices.”

Enough. I take the phone and hang up on her. “Shit, Sami, I’m so sorry about that.”

His eyes search mine, puzzled and a little wary. “Was she selling me out to another business owner somehow?”

I nod. “Pretty much, yeah.”

It is kind of a relief when he shakes his head with a dumbfounded grin.

“I’m sorry, I usually try not to expose people to my parents.” I pause, then amend, “Or I guess just my mom now.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I mean, you’ve endured enough harassment from the weirdo man who raised me.” Sami’s grin is wide.

“That’s different.” I shake my head. “Abu is a national treasure. And he at least has his life together. With my parents, it’s like I was always fixing and figuring things out for them. It just never ends.” I exhale—I haven’t talked to anyone about this in such a long time. The words come tumbling out. “I just, I never felt like I had a home. I couldn’t have friends over. I was embarrassed to go with them. My mom, she always believed him when he said he was better, but I knew the truth.” I shake my head at the memories.

“You mean your dad?”

My head flies up. I didn’t mean to say that much. “Sorry, I’m getting worked up.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Sami takes my hand and rubs my wrist. “I’m listening.”

His gaze deepens on mine. “I know you don’t share a lot with just anyone, and I like being that someone, so please... rant away.”

And it’s like his words, his comforting touch, unlocks something inside me I’ve kept buried for longer than I can remember. “It wasn’t just the drinking, it waseverythinghe did—every missed event, all the money he wasted. I felt so angry. Like so angry that even when he was sober and working hard to stay that way, even when I had the chance to forgive him, I”—my voice tightens as I shake my head—“I just had to get out of there. As soon as I was old enough to move out, I did, and I never wanted to go back. I worked as hard as possible every day to make sure I wouldn’t need to go back there.”

Sami nods thoughtfully. His gaze softens. “That must’ve been stressful.”

I wrap my arms around myself. He shouldn’t feel bad for me. I’m not the victim here. “No, it’s my fault. I know he regretted it. He’d always apologize later. Every time he fucked up, he’d get me a Pez dispenser to say sorry and... I just got so mad as I got older. I couldn’t forgive him anymore, and I hate that.”

“How are things with your mom now?” Sami asks.

I sigh and shake my head. “Not great. I know you’re so close with your family, and this makes me sound horrible. But I just can’t handle it when she drags me back into the chaos. I just want to get as far as possible from it.”

“Fair...” Sami nods, his eyes still soft, like I haven’t just admitted to being the worst person. “I think I understand why you’ve been working so much when you’re supposed to be on leave.”

His words cut too close to the bone. Because it’s not true. It’s this unwarranted leave that’s making me want to still...workat the thing I’m paid well to do.

And maybe that’s why I choose to ruin it by saying, “It’s probably easier for you to stick around because you don’t want to leave your childhood.”

The instant my words register—the wounded expression on his face—I want to bottle them back up and make them disappear from this timeline. “Sami, I didn’t mean—”

“You make a good point.” He looks directly at me, face expressionless. “I mean, I guess I probably am stuck in the past a bit. But this community, this place, is special to me.” His shoulders soften. “And I know you’ve seen that too lately.”

“I have,” I concede. “I just wonder... there was a time when you went to culinary school. A time when you probablywerethinking of doing something more with your talents than this. So what’s stopping you from making your own place in the world?”

I need to know he’ll be okay. That even after the building sells, after the last familiar landmarks in this neighborhood are well and truly gone, he’ll be able to move forward. Even if he hates me for it forever.

Sami frowns like I’m missing the point. “It’s not broken, so why fix it? This restaurant, our customers, the people who have been there since the beginning, don’t need me to change. I don’t want them to think yet another place is no longerforthem just because they can’t afford to live in an expensive-ass condo.” The air is getting heavier. Sami gives me a tight smile and attempts to cut through it with a joke. “Although I have considered firing Abu to cut costs. It’s just too bad I don’t pay him.”