Page 99 of A Simple Reminder

My dad used to tell me thatall hearts are differentwhenever I was disappointed in other people’s actions.Not everyone has a heart like yours, and vice versa. Don’t allow yourself to be disappointed by people who have lesser hearts than yours. But always stay true to yours.His words echo in my mind now, grounding me. I can’t change who I am. Only a little more time and then I’m off on my own adventure.

Forget-Me-Not Design. Yeah, not going to lie, it’s growing on me.

The day continues without a hitch—knockon wood,as Adeline would say. To ward off bad luck.

Meetings flow smoothly, decisions are made without unnecessary debates, and even Jared manages to keep his annoying comments to a minimum. It’s rare for a workday to feel this seamless, but If I say too much I might jinx it. Either way, I’m in a great mood, which is perfect timing for Addie and my dinner.

We go to Lila’s Bistro for dinner and drinks on the first Wednesday of every month. Why a Wednesday? Well, two years ago, we stumbled across this little place on a random Wednesday after we both had one of the most awful days imaginable. By some miracle, that night changed the entire energy of the week. The food was comforting, the drinks were perfect, and the laughter we shared felt like hitting a reset button. So, we decided to make it a thing—our special tradition. Now, no matter how bad or good our day is, we know Wednesday night will be better. I know it’s not the smartest idea, considering we both work the next day, but it’s worth it. And I’m also on the boss's good side.

I jump in a taxi as soon as I’m done with work and head to the bistro, where Addie’s probably waiting. I didn’t have time to change out of my slacks and blouse, but she’s seen me in much worse attire.

When I arrive, she’s already at our usual table in the corner, her drink halfway gone and her face lighting up when she spots me.

Lila’s Bistro has this warm, inviting energy with soft amber lighting and vintage wood-paneled walls, making it feel more like someone’s dining room than a restaurant. The scent of garlic, lemon, and freshly baked bread fills the air, making my mouth water instantly. My stomach, clearly in agreement, lets out a loud, rumbling growl, reminding me how long it’s been since lunch.

“Finally!” Addie exclaims as she raises her glass, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I was about to order a whole second drink without you.”

I snicker, shrugging out of my coat and signaling to the waiter. “Traffic was a nightmare. What are we starting with tonight?”

She points to a plate of half-eaten bruschetta. “I couldn’t wait. But don’t worry, I left you some.”

“Generous as always,” I tease, reaching for a piece. “Okay, spill. How’s your day been”

She launches into her story, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and expressions. “So, Sarah—you know, the one who always looks like she’s trying to balance the world on her shoulders—somehow managed to lock herself in the supply closet while looking for erasers. She calls me in a panic, whispering like she’s hiding from the Mafia or something, saying, ‘Addie, youcannottell anyone.’”

I burst into laughter, already picturing it. “Whispering? Was she embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” Addie replies with wide eyes. “I had to grab the janitor and pretend I didn’t know why we were heading that way. And when he opened the door, Sarah practicallyfellout. She looked at me, dead serious, and said, ‘If anyone hears about this, I’ll never forgive you.’ I mean, like I wasn’t going to telleveryone.”

I’m laughing so hard tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “You’re evil.”

“It’s part of the job, Soph,” Addie says with a cocky smirk. “Teacher gossip is the real glue holding the school together.”

We both laugh as the waiter arrives and takes our orders—more bruschetta, carpaccio, burrata, and, of course, two pasta dishes: carbonara for me and arrabbiata for Addie. Naturally, we ask for it all to come at the same time, and by the time the food arrives, the table is covered with plates.

Between bites of creamy burrata and perfectly al dente pasta, we drink, laugh, and chat.

Addie leans back in her chair, swirling her wine. ”So…how are things going with Liam?”

I pause, my smile matching the warmth rising in my cheeks. “It’s good. Great actually. It feels like this weight is finally off my shoulders. Even though we’re keeping it a secret for now—work and all—it feels…right. Like I want this with him. But the only hard part is that he travels so much. He doesn’t even live in New York. How are we going to make that work?”

She shakes her head, “Soph, don’t think about that right now. Live in the moment. Enjoy it.”

“You’re right.” I sigh, leaning into my palm, my head settling against it. “What about you?”

Adeline arches a brow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Of course I’m right.” She pointedly ignores my question.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “What about you?” I repeat, grinning knowingly. “No one piqued your interest?”

She rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’d know if there was. I’m an open book.”

I laugh. “Okay, but what about Liam’s friend, Micah? He’s hotanda sweetheart.”

She shoots me a look, her voice laced with playful doubt. “Sweetheart? Did we meet the same guy?”

“You didn’t deny how hot he was,” I tease, raising my glass.

She flushes slightly, taking a long sip of her wine. I really mean long sip, she almost drains her glass.

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