.The drive back to his apartment felt different this time. As Jake pulled into his usual spot, the familiar cracks in the pavement and the dim flicker of the hallway lights seemed smaller, like a suit he'd outgrown.
He stood in the center of his living room, looking at the modest furniture and the stacks of financial journals. This place had been a sanctuary during his leanest months, a place of convenience for a student with a dream. Now, it was just four walls holding him back from the skyline.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Aliya. "I'm home. You can come grab that book whenever."
"I'll be there in thirty," she clipped, hanging up before he could say anything else.
True to her word, the knock came exactly half an hour later. When Jake opened the door, Aliya stepped in with a strange, nervous energy, her eyes darting toward the coffee table where her novel sat.
"Found it," she said, snatching it up.
