Chapter Twenty-Five No Love on Love Street
I’m pretty much shaking the whole way back to the city from Vaughan.
It felt incredibly cathartic to finally tell Dad that I know the truth about him and Noureen—that their relationship overlapped with his and Mom’s.
I feel like a giant weight was lifted. But I don’t know.
He didn’t deny anything. He didn’t apologize for the divorce, either.
I know I probably just ended any possibility of ever having a relationship with him.
Not that we had much of one anymore. It’s weird—the same day I kind of patch things up with Sarina, I throw away my relationship with my father.
But I need to put all that family crap out of my mind for now.
Because tonight is our last official committee meeting before the festival on Saturday.
I’m dreading it. It will be the first time I see Miles since I broke up with him.
I wish I could skip the meeting, but I meant what I said: I’m not giving up on the festival.
Even if we’re trying to save a street that can’t be saved, I still want this festival to be perfect.
Call it a send-off to what Love Street used to be.
When I get home, I spend too long staring at my closet trying to decide what to wear.
Choosing the perfect outfit for the first time you see an ex after a breakup is an art form.
I can’t decide if I want to look sad, so he sees how miserable I’ve been.
Or if I should look smoking hot, so he feels even more regret about how he screwed this up.
But nothing feels right. I just… don’t want to play games with Miles.
I only want to be honest with him. But when every outfit I’ve ever worn is curated, how do I look like I haven’t curated it this time?
I finally decide to dress how I feel and wear jeans and a plain black T-shirt.
If he thinks I look sad, it’s because I am.
I’m the last one to get to LoveBug, probably because I was staring at my closet for so long.
Everyone is at the big table with drinks in front of them.
I don’t join them; I stand at the door watching them all for a while.
Honestly, watching Miles. He’s like a beacon, drawing my attention whenever I come into a room.
He always was, even before we became a couple.
And tonight he looks… different. He was never an incredibly expressive guy, but I got to know him pretty well in the months since we met.
He might not smile much, but his eyes were always…
active. Taking in everything. Reading signs, watching others while they talked, and fully connecting to the world around him.
But that’s not how he looks now. His eyes are downcast, even though Ajit is talking.
He looks sad, too. I’m not happy to see him hurting. I still care about him.
That’s when I notice what he’s looking at. His drink—he has one of LoveBug’s clear mugs on a gold saucer in front of him.
And it’s filled with steaming pink Kashmiri chai.
“Oh, Sana, there you are,” Julie says. She pats the empty seat next to her. I smile and sit. Julie immediately pours me a glass of lemonade from the pitcher in the middle of the table.
Ajit is talking about the food trucks that he was able to confirm on Saturday. Julie leans close to me and whispers in my ear, “You totally broke Miles. He’s barely talking. And he hasn’t looked at you at all since you walked in.”
I exhale. I didn’t want to break him. I look at him, and yeah, his head is still downcast as he stares at his tea.
April asks me about the park installations, and I tell them that my art teacher will be bringing all the supplies with her for the Love You mural and that Mom and I plan to work on the flower heart all day tomorrow.
We’ll bring it to the park in the flower shop van on Saturday morning.
Miles finally speaks when everyone is talking about their individual store’s preparations.
“Second Story Books is ready. Reggie’s niece is coming to help for the day. ”
The meeting wraps up soon after that. I feel confident that we’re ready, and I doubt anything will go wrong at this point.
But it seems a bit of a hollow victory. I came up with this festival to save the Love Street businesses and to keep this perfect, idyllic little street the same as it is now.
But Love Street was always going to change.
We never really had the power to do anything… to control the future at all.
I leave the café quickly because I don’t want to talk to Miles. But Miles is at my side when I’m only a few steps away from the door.
“I need to get my bike from your balcony. Can I walk with you?”
I shrug. I can’t exactly tell him not to when we’re going to the same place. We walk silently for a few moments. I have no intention of speaking, so I’m kind of glad when he does, because this is awkward.
“I can’t believe the festival is finally here,” he says. “We’ve come a long way.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“If you need any help with the flowers, call me. I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”
“It’s fine. Mom and I can handle it.”
“Okay.” He seems like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how.
I exhale. This is weird. Days ago, there was never an awkward moment when we were together.
We could talk for hours. When we get to the alley next to the flower shop, I don’t turn.
I can’t go up the back stairs. I don’t want to be alone on my balcony with him.
The place where we drank tea and talked so many times.
Where we kissed for the first time… and actually the last time, too.
The place where I showed him how to fix his bike tire.
The place where I felt closer to him than anywhere else.
I walk toward my front door without saying goodbye—because I’m afraid the words won’t come out without my voice cracking.
“Sana, wait,” he says. I knew he would. Because back when we used to argue every time we saw each other, he always needed to get the last word.
I look at him. Really look. And it almost makes my knees give out.
He’s so, so gorgeous. I mean, I remember how cute I thought he was the day I first saw him, but that’s nothing like the Miles I see now.
Now that I know that the little wrinkle between his brows isn’t because he’s mad but because he’s always thinking.
That the little mole on his neck is a perfect target to kiss, and when I do, he always shivers.
I know how well those arms fit around me.
“I’m sorry again,” he says. “I should have told you about that job. I wish things could be different.”
I sigh. “I know you’re sorry. I get it. It’s a good opportunity for you. You knew how I’d react to you teaming up with condo developers and my father. You didn’t want to upset me.”
“Yeah. That’s—”
I take a step forward. “Here’s the thing, Miles.
I want people to upset me. My parents didn’t tell me for years that my father cheated on my mother, because they didn’t want to hurt me.
Maybe they thought me knowing the truth about the kind of person my father is would affect the way I see him.
They wanted me to love him without really knowing him.
And…” I hesitate. “You didn’t give me a chance to understand why you wanted that job.
I don’t need to be coddled, Miles. I know you thought I was too naive and too idealistic, but I thought…
I thought you didn’t think of me like that anymore. ”
He blinks at me. I’m not sure what he’s thinking. If he sees why I’m being so stubborn about this.
He finally speaks. “I didn’t keep it from you because I thought you were naive.”
“You kept it from me because you knew I wouldn’t be happy.” I pause, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “You could have given me the chance to see your perspective. Like on that streetcar ride, you got me to see the city through your eyes.”
He looks at me for a long time. Finally, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to say anything. Goodbye, Miles.”
He nods, then heads down the alley, and I hear him climb the wood stairs up to my back balcony. Blinking away a tear, I go up into my apartment from the front door.