Chapter 120
We weave through the streets, the bright signs of late-night diners and convenience stores flashing by

in a blur. For a moment, the weight of my job—the critics, the health inspectors, the constantly ringing

phone—lifts, and I find myself lost in the rhythmic hum of the car’s engine.

Karl finally breaks the silence. “You looked like you were having one hell of a dream back there. Was it

about a beach, a tropical drink, and a server shortage all at once?”

I chuckle. “More like a health inspection nightmare. I can’t seem to escape the restaurant, even in my

sleep.”

He glances over at me with a smirk. “Well, dreams are just unpaid labor then, aren’t they? Surely you

could get compensation somehow.”

“Exactly. My subconscious is working overtime,” I reply, my words tinged with a fatigue I can’t hide.

We reach the front of my apartment complex—a red brick building with ivy crawling up the sides and a

tall set of steps leading to the front door. It’s surrounded by other buildings that look just like it. I

when I first moved here, I almost walked into someone else’s apartment.

embarrassing.

to the curb and turns off the engine, then looks at

My offer

the hot tub, and all of the luxuries of our old home.

I

he leans in a little, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial

Remember the little cafe with the perfect cappuccinos?

used to hang out?”

nostalgic tug at my heart. Karl’s words paint a vivid picture, transporting me momentarily

when life felt easier, lighter. But then the logical side

times:

out the window. “But I can’t. You know

“Why not?” He asks.

into it all right now, and

restaurant needs me.”

sighs. “The restaurant won’t burn to the ground

the corners of my mouth twitch into a smile.

with the chaos

me for a moment, then leans back, nodding. “I get it. The restaurant is your

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