So I let out a yawn and shove aside all the things I’ve been stressing about. Reaching down, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back to bed. Once we lie down, she rests on top of me like my own security blanket.
And after a few minutes, it works. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
Three months later
“A little to the left,” Freya calls to the man currently hanging the sign over the awning of her restaurant.
“Right there,” Julian says before tilting his head to see it from a different angle.
The bright red awning shades the front of the restaurant as vibrant flowers and greenery cascade down over the side of the building. Her soft launch opening is in three weeks, and so far, everything is coming together pretty seamlessly.
My brother-in-law has helped me to get all the paperwork filed for licenses and inspections, so a process that could have taken eight months took us only five.
Amelia has been helping Freya with the design of the restaurant. It blends the quiet sophistication of Freya’s style with the warmth of her family’s home. A frosted rangoli design covers the front door windows, meant to welcome guests. Inside, gold-leaf accents run along carved wooden arches, framing walls washed in deep marigold and indigo—the colors of her mother’s wedding saree.
Every detail holds memory. Nothing is ornamental without reason.
The single wordÉpicehangs proudly over the door in brass. That was Julian’s idea. French for spice.
I glance over at Freya to gauge her reaction. She’s been noticeably tense lately, and I worry it’s about more than the restaurant. I keep thinking that her family should really be here for this occasion, but every time I bring it up, she changes the subject.
Rex hasn’t spoken to me in months. I send him texts from time to time, asking if he’d like to work out together or go grab a drink, but every single message goes unanswered.
“It looks amazing,” I say to try and excite her, but she only worries her bottom lip between her fingers as she stares at it.
“Are the flowers too much?” she asks.
“The flowers are perfect,” I reply.
“I don’t want to be too…ostentatious.”
Moving around her, I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her tight with my chin on her head. “Baby, you be as ostentatious as you want. You deserve it.”
She chuckles, leaning against me. “This all still feels so surreal.”
“It’s real,” Julian says, stepping closer to us.
“I still have so much to do,” she stammers before rushing inside. Watching her run around, trying to get everything in place, is exhausting. I’ve seen her to-do list, and it gives me nightmares. I can only help her so much, and there’s a lot she refuses to give up.
“All things considered, we’re ahead of schedule, right?” I ask while following her into the kitchen. She’s still unpacking supplies and trying to keep an inventory of everything at the same time.
“I don’t feel ahead of schedule,” she replies without looking at me. “I feel like I’m walking headfirst into a disaster.”
“Freya,” Julian says in a scolding tone. “Why would you think that?”
She unwraps a bundle of serving spoons and looks up at us with exasperation. “Because I’m supposed to open a restaurant to the publicin Parisin three weeks, and I still feel like an impostor, Julian. I don’t have some high-up chef connections or the respect of my peers. What happens when those food critics come in here and find out I’m a fraud?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I bellow as I cross the restaurant and take the spoons from her hand. Placing my hands under her arms, I hoist her onto the counter, and I force her to look me in the eye. “That is my girlfriend you’re talking about, and I won’t just sit by and let you talk about her in that way.”
She smirks with a shake of her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not. I’m right. Aren’t I, Jules?”
He’s flipping through the new menus as he looks up and casually takes my side. “Of course.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Freya shouts to him.
“I know you’re being hard on yourself because you’re stressed and this is scary, but you’re not going to just beat upmybeautiful, talented girlfriend because you’re feeling shitty. Got it?”
