Page 74 of You'll Love it Here

I lean closer and take his hand this time. The warmth of it fills mine as our eyes lock. “Even if you fight every development in the neighborhood, it’s not going to bring back the past. There’s a whole slew of people out there who I bet would love to try your real recipes, and it’s like you don’t want them.”

Sami lets out a huff, his hand slipping out of mine as he fiddles with Ernest’s leash. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to serve the new condo assholes. There are other places that will cater tothem.”

“That sounds like an excuse to not even try.”

His gaze crawls across my face, searching. It feels like we’re on the edge of something. So I push. “I can tell how much you love it every time I try something you’ve made. If you shared that with people—if you stopped hiding behind the deep fryer and Sysco food supply appetizers...”

His jaw clenches. “That’s nice of you to say, but we don’t have to knock frozen mozza sticks in the process. They have their place in society.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not selling out to want to cater to the new people in the neighborhood. Your loyal customers will support you the way you’ve always been there for them.”

Sami’s stare is distant, and for a minute I’m certain I’ve pushed him too far. He shakes his head. “God, can you imagine Abu with a trust-fund TikToker trying to film content at the diner?”

I giggle. “I mean... kind of? I could see him accusing someone of hitting on him and then challenging them to arm wrestle.”

“That’s... actually exactly what would happen.” Sami’s grin curls into his eyes, the tension clearing. As he gets Ernest’s harness on and pauses at the door, he again reaches for my hand, this time pulling mine to his chest. “Hey, I know change is weird for me, and I know I’m really stubborn, and I can’t just switch it off.” His voice is a whisper. “But I appreciate your faith in me.”

I squeeze his hand back and we head out the door. During our walk, Sami speaks more about all the spots he used to love in the neighborhood—block parties, how the park used to have a community garden, friends’ houses he used to sleep over at—and I ask him as many questions about his life as possible. I don’t want any of it to end.

But once we make it three blocks farther than our usual route, Ernest sits down and refuses to take another step. Sami ends up carrying his tube of a body back to my apartment, before heading home to get ready to work at the diner.

All alone in my apartment, I take a shower. When I get out and look in the mirror, I notice the tan that’s been darkening my skin these past few weeks. It’s like I’m wearing the walks with Sami and Ernest. Like every moment has been pressed into me like a badge.

I brace myself to look at my phone.

Because soon there will be an email from Lana—a follow-up to the viewing.

Instead, there’s a message from Jane:Hey! I’ve been thinking. Instead of doing the harder parts of the stakeout—want to just like hang? I’ve been feeling less freaked out and don’t want to waste more time on that creep. We can watch a movie?

I hit reply immediately.Definitely! My place this time.

Maybe she’ll be able to find another place in the area with an equally kind landlord. Maybe she’ll be able to forgive me.

I pull up the link to the apartment in the brand-new high-rise Lana promised me, once the sale goes through. It’s better than what I remember. Completely new with all the finishing touches: marble countertops, heated floor tiles, stainless-steel appliances. I try to picture the life I’ll have there. The one I’d always envisioned for myself, someday. The one that I’ve worked so hard for.

Two months ago, this was my dream: to live somewhere untouched by the chaos of history—neat, beautiful, and peaceful. A place where I could finally breathe.

But now all I see is a place that doesn’t have color, or character, even a whiteboard. I try to picture living there and commuting to my office. Trading one soulless box for another.

I feed Alice, vacuum the carpet, make a sandwich. Still no email from Lana.

If the building doesn’t sell, what then? Is there a version of this story where Irene could keep this place running?

My mind wanders to a life where I stay living here. One where I visit the diner every morning to see a guy and his family who make me feel at home. A place where I have friends who don’tneed me to be perfect. A life where I’m not being audited for everything I do.

And maybe I freaked out Missy and Robin enough with my bullshit that they won’t bite? That would be okay.

Because when I lock eyes with Alice sitting in her little spot at the bottom of her bowl, it feels different.

It feels like home.

I Scream for Irene

Subject: We have an offer!

Hi Mona,

Great news! We have an offer.