Three days later, Zara found herself back at Maya's Comfort Kitchen, but this time the conversation was different. The lunch rush had ended, and they were cleaning up while discussing the elephant in the room - Zara's impending departure.
"I got the job," Zara announced, wiping down the last table. "Harrison & Associates called this morning. I start Monday."
Maya looked up from counting the day's receipts, her expression a mixture of happiness and concern. "That's amazing! I'm so proud of you. But..."
"But you're panicking about how you'll manage the shop without free labor," Zara finished with a knowing smile.
"I wouldn't put it that way, but..." Maya gestured helplessly around the small space. "You've been here almost every morning for three months. I've gotten used to having help during the rush."
Zara pulled out a chair and sat down across from her friend. "Maya, you need to hire actual employees. Part-time morning help, at least. You can't keep running this place single-handedly and expecting friends to fill in the gaps."
"Employees cost money I don't really have," Maya said with a sigh. "Business has been slower than I hoped, and David keeps showing me articles about restaurant failure rates. He thinks I should consider finding a more stable location or maybe going back to teaching until the shop is more established."
"But you love this location," Zara said, though she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.
"I do, but David has a point about foot traffic. And the rent here is pretty high for what I'm making." Maya gestured around the small space. "He offered to help with expenses, but that feels weird, you know? Like I'm failing at my own business. Plus, he's been so busy with his tutoring that he's stressed about his own finances."
Zara felt that familiar flash of concern for her friend's dreams. "Maya, you've only been open for eight months. Most small businesses don't turn a real profit for at least a year."
"That's what I keep telling David, but he gets worried about me working so hard for such uncertain returns. He thinks I'm being impractical, chasing a dream when I could have job security." Maya's voice carried the weight of repeated conversations. "Maybe he's right. Maybe I should be more realistic about the odds."
"Or maybe," Zara said carefully, "David is projecting his own anxiety about financial security onto your business. His tutoring success is great, but that doesn't make him an expert on food service."
"He's just looking out for me," Maya said automatically, the defense she always mounted when anyone questioned David's advice.
There it was again - David's opinion, offered as the final word on Maya's business decisions.
"What does David know about running a food service business?" Zara asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
"He knows about business in general. His tutoring service is really successful now - he's got students lined up and he's raising his rates." Maya's voice carried a note of pride mixed with something else. "Actually, that's part of the problem. He's so busy with his evening and weekend sessions that I barely see him anymore."
Zara leaned back in her chair, sensing they were circling back to their argument from earlier in the week. "Have you talked to him about that?"
"I've tried, but he gets defensive. Says he's building something for our future, that the long hours are temporary." Maya's frustration was evident. "But it doesn't feel temporary. It feels like I'm competing with his students for his attention."
"And how does he respond when you tell him that?"
"He says I'm being needy. That I should be proud of his success instead of complaining about it." Maya slumped in her chair. "Maybe he's right. Maybe I am being selfish."
Zara felt that familiar flash of irritation on her friend's behalf. "Maya, wanting to spend time with your boyfriend isn't selfish. It's normal."
"But he's working so hard, and his business is really taking off. Shouldn't I be supportive instead of demanding attention?"
"You can be supportive and still have needs of your own," Zara said carefully. "The question is whether he's willing to find a balance, or if he expects you to just accept whatever scraps of time he has left over."
Maya was quiet for a moment, processing this. "He used to plan date nights. Used to surprise me with little things - my favorite coffee, flowers for no reason, reservations at places I mentioned wanting to try."
"And now?"
"Now I'm lucky if he remembers to text me back within a few hours." Maya's voice was small, vulnerable. "Last week I suggested we go to that new Italian place downtown, and he said maybe when his client load lightens up. But then yesterday I saw on Instagram that he went there with his college friends."
Zara's irritation sharpened. "He had time for his friends but not for you?"
"He said it was networking. Some of his friends have kids who might need tutoring." Maya was making excuses again, the way she always did when David's behavior was indefensible. "It wasn't really social."
"Maya, listen to yourself. You're making excuses for him treating his friends like a priority and you like an afterthought."
"I'm not making excuses, I'm trying to understand his perspective—"
"His perspective seems to be that you'll always be there waiting for him, so he doesn't need to make any effort." Zara leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "You deserve better than that."
Maya's eyes flashed with a familiar defensiveness, but this time it was accompanied by a laugh. "Easy for you to say. You don't even try to make relationships work. The second things get complicated, you bail." She grinned to soften the words, but there was truth behind the teasing. "I'm not sure I want relationship advice from someone who thinks three months is a long-term commitment."
The comment stung, but Zara recognized Maya's deflection technique - turn serious criticism into playful banter rather than actually addressing the issue.
"Okay, fair point," Zara said with a rueful smile. "But maybe my commitment issues give me some perspective on when someone is taking you for granted. I may not stick around long enough to experience it myself, but I've watched enough friends go through it."
Maya laughed, but it sounded forced. "Look at you, Dr. Phil, analyzing everyone's relationships from your fortress of singlehood." She waved her hand dismissively. "David loves me, he's just going through a busy phase. All successful people have to make sacrifices."
"Including sacrificing their girlfriend's feelings?"
"Oh please," Maya said, rolling her eyes playfully. "You're being dramatic. Not everyone needs constant attention and validation. Some of us are secure enough to give our partners space to succeed."
Despite the light tone, Zara could see the defensiveness underneath. Maya was deflecting again, turning legitimate concerns into jokes rather than examining whether they might be valid.
Maya was quiet for a long moment, staring at her hands. "So what am I supposed to do? Give him an ultimatum? Demand that he choose between his career and me?"
"No, but you could stop accepting being treated like an option." Zara chose her words carefully. "You could start making your own plans instead of waiting around for him to have time. You could stop being available every time he finally decides he wants to see you."
"That sounds like game-playing."
"It's not game-playing, it's having self-respect. There's a difference between being understanding and being a doormat."
Maya stood up abruptly, moving to the coffee machine with an exaggerated sigh. "You know what, Zara? I think I'll stick to taking relationship advice from people who've actually managed to keep someone around longer than a Netflix series." She grinned over her shoulder, but there was an edge to it. "No offense."
"None taken," Zara said dryly, though she felt the familiar frustration of trying to help someone who insisted on making light of serious issues. "But Maya, just because I don't do long-term doesn't mean I can't recognize when someone's being taken for granted."
The comment hit its mark, and Zara felt her defenses rise. "At least when I end things, it's clean. No one gets strung along thinking they're in a relationship when they're actually just filling time between more important priorities."
"That's cold, even for you."
"It's honest. And maybe David would respect you more if you were honest too - about what you need, about what you're not getting, and about what you're willing to accept."
They worked in tense silence for several minutes, the easy camaraderie of earlier in the day replaced by the familiar strain that appeared whenever they discussed relationships. Zara knew she'd pushed too hard, but watching Maya make excuses for David's neglect was infuriating.
"Look," Zara said finally, "I'm not trying to attack your relationship. I just hate seeing you diminish yourself to accommodate someone else's selfishness."
Maya didn't respond immediately, focusing intently on wiping down the espresso machine. "He's not selfish, Zara. He's ambitious. There's a difference."
"Ambition doesn't have to come at the expense of the people you love."
"And love doesn't have to be the most important thing in someone's life," Maya countered. "David has goals, dreams, plans for the future. I respect that about him."
"I'm not saying he shouldn't have goals. I'm saying those goals shouldn't make you feel like you're asking for too much when you want to spend time with your boyfriend."
Maya finally turned to face her, exhaustion evident in every line of her body. "Maybe I am asking for too much. Maybe I need to adjust my expectations instead of expecting him to adjust his schedule."
Zara stared at her friend, recognizing the defeated tone that had been creeping into Maya's voice more and more lately. "Maya, when did you become so willing to settle for less than you deserve?"
"When I decided I'd rather have something imperfect than nothing at all." Maya's voice was barely above a whisper. "Not everyone can be as fearless as you, Zara. Some of us would rather compromise than be alone."
The admission hung between them, heavy with unspoken truths about fear, loneliness, and the different ways people convinced themselves they were making the right choices.
"I'm not fearless," Zara said quietly. "I'm just tired of pretending that accepting crumbs is the same as being fed."
They finished cleaning in relative silence, both lost in their own thoughts. As Zara prepared to leave, Maya spoke without looking up from her inventory checklist.
"When do you move?"
"This weekend. The apartment is perfect - close to work, good neighborhood, reasonable rent." Zara paused, wanting to end on a better note. "And I promise to help you find the right person to hire. Someone reliable who can handle the morning rush."
Maya finally smiled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I'm going to miss having you here."
"I'm going to miss being here. This place feels like home."
"More than your actual home?"
Zara considered the question seriously. "Yeah, actually. This feels like something you built, something that matters. My apartment just feels like a place I sleep between more interesting locations."
"Maybe the new place will be different."
"Maybe." Zara gathered her purse and jacket, already thinking ahead to the weekend's moving logistics. "And Maya? Think about what I said, okay? About hiring help, about David, about all of it. You deserve to have your business thrive and your relationship work. You shouldn't have to choose."
Maya nodded, though her expression suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. "Call me once you're settled in. I want to hear about the new neighborhood, the new job, all of it."
"And I want to hear about whoever you hire to replace me. Make sure they appreciate good coffee and can handle your pre-opening anxiety."
As Zara walked toward the exit, she felt the familiar mixture of excitement and melancholy that came with major life changes. Maya's Comfort Kitchen had been a refuge, a place where she could help someone else build their dreams while avoiding examining her own.
But maybe it was time to stop hiding in other people's lives and start figuring out what she actually wanted from her own.
The afternoon sun felt warm on her face as she stepped onto the sidewalk, already thinking ahead to apartment hunting, job interviews, and the promise of a fresh start in a new neighborhood.
Behind her, Maya was already preparing for the dinner crowd, moving through her familiar routines with the efficiency born of months of practice. She'd figure out the employee situation, just like she'd figured out everything else about running her business.
And maybe, Zara hoped, she'd also figure out that she deserved better than a boyfriend who treated her like a hobby he'd get back to when he had time.