Page 98 of The Love Match

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter35

There’s a postcard sticking outof the mailbox when I leave the building.

It’s an unassuming slip of a thing, so glossy that I drop it as I’m rifling through the rest of the envelopes, looking for bills. My heart still seizes in my throat as a reflex, but most of the mail ends up being junk or early notices, so I let the box fall shut.

A shiny red guitar embossed on card stock winks up at me from the top porch step. I bend to pick it up, rubbing my thumb across the curly script declaring the name and address of a shop.

It’s close enough to my destination that I can swing by on the way, but I wonder if it was sent to me in particular, or if everyone in Paterson got one.

If it might be an accident.

Tucking it into the pocket of my hoodie, I hurry to the Subaru, leaves crunching under the soles of my sneakers. A chill kisses the air. Fall is well and truly here.

I almost change course a dozen times on the way to the address on the postcard, but by the time the half-hour drive into the city ends, I’ve made up my mind.

I want to go.

I can’t help scowling at the amount flashing on the parking meter as I dip my credit card into the machine. I waste no time hurrying up West 48th Street.

A gaggle of college kids lurk outside the shop, giggling.

I don’t want to stop to admire the sign while they’re watching, so instead I clear my throat and ask the girl with hot-pink streaks in her hair closest to me, “Is there, um, a line?”

“Nah, Keelie’s just scared to talk to the hot owner,” says her friend, a silver ring glinting on his bottom lip as he smirks.

The girl called Keelie thumps him on the chest with one fist, hiding her face with her other hand, while the third member of their group whispers, “You’ve got this, Keel. Go ask him for a lesson like that other girl did.”

In a garbled voice, the pink-haired girl tells me, “Please, go in before me.”

I flash her a sympathetic look. Perhaps no one in the world knows better than me how it feels to be in her shoes.

Bells chime above my head as I enter. There’s indeed already a customer with the owner. I observe them for a moment, noting the way he shoots her that irresistible lopsided smile while showing her how to play basic chords.

“You’re a natural already,” he tells the red-headed girl.

Her face flushes to match the color of her hair. I won’tjudge if she walks out of here with a guitar and six picks she never intends to touch again, but more power to her.

A familiar figure notices me first and slinks over to rub against my ankles, purring like a motor. I bend down to pick up Thara the cat, smiling at the music-note charm on her brand-new collar. “So that’s where you got off to.”

Nayim glances up at the sound of my voice, jaw dropping. “Z-Zahra, you came?”

Still holding Thara, I retrieve the postcard. “Was I not supposed to?”

“No, uh, you were!” he exclaims. “Of course you were! I asked the imam to put it in your mailbox. I just… wasn’t sure he’d approve. Or that you’d be here so soon. Or ever.”

Guitar girl takes the hint and wanders over to the other side of the counter, mumbling something about returning after her accounting class. Nayim offers her an energetic wave, though his eyes remain glued to me.

We take the opportunity to evaluate each other while she’s exiting. Nayim looks as devastatingly handsome as ever. Maybe even more so, in his black leather jacket and beanie, like he stepped right off aRolling Stonecover.

“I needed to come into the city anyway,” I tell him when we’re alone.

“Oh good!” he says, a bit too enthusiastically. He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m glad I didn’t mess everything up for you when I came back. Sorry again for pulling that stunt on you without asking, by the way. Since you like romance novels somuch, I figured a grand gesture would be the best way to win you back, and I let my mum go a bit overboard planning it out.”

That night is still something of a haze in my mind.

Eventually, Amma was able to lure Nayim over to the bridge so I could give him back his ring and turn him down in relative privacy. Of course, news of our breakup managed to spread through the whole city despite my best efforts, anyway.

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