Chapter Five: Sunday Morning

Eliana woke up to the sound of her alarm.

She reached out blindly, knocked her phone off the bedside table, and groaned.

“Five more minutes.”

Her phone buzzed against the floor.

She opened one eye.

Nate:

Are you awake?

She stared at the message.

It was 7:14 a.m.

Eliana:

No.

The reply came almost instantly.

Nate:

You're texting me.

Eliana:

I'm sleep-texting.

Nate:

Impressive.

She smiled despite herself.

Then another message appeared.

Nate:

Church at 9, right?

Eliana sat up.

Eliana:

Yes.

Nate:

I'll walk with you.

She paused.

Eliana:

You don't have to.

Nate:

I know.

That made her smile.

Before she could reply, another notification appeared.

Ilyas:

Good morning. Don't forget your coffee.

Eliana blinked.

How did he know?

Then she remembered.

Yesterday, she'd complained about how impossible mornings were without coffee.

She smiled at her phone.

Eliana:

Good morning. You're becoming my personal reminder.

Ilyas:

Someone has to.

She shook her head.

Two neighbors.

Two completely different personalities.

And somehow, both were already becoming part of her daily routine.

By eight-thirty, Eliana stepped out of her apartment dressed for church.

She wore a simple cream blouse with a long dark skirt, her curls falling loosely around her shoulders.

Nate was waiting outside.

He looked her up and down for half a second before smiling.

“You look nice.”

Eliana smiled.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The elevator doors opened.

They stepped inside.

For a few seconds, neither spoke.

Then Nate glanced at her.

“Do you always dress like that for church?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm going to church.”

He laughed.

“I mean, do you always wear skirts?”

“Usually.”

“You look nice.”

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

“So why say it again?”

He shrugged.

“Because it's still true.”

The elevator reached the ground floor before Eliana could think of a response.

When they stepped outside, she noticed someone standing near the entrance.

Ilyas.

He was dressed in a neat dark shirt and trousers, holding his phone in one hand.

Eliana smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“Going to get breakfast.”

Nate looked at him.

“At eight-thirty?”

“I woke up early.”

Nate shook his head.

“That's suspicious.”

Ilyas ignored him.

“Have a good service.”

“Thank you.”

Eliana hesitated.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Just the mosque later.”

She nodded.

“I hope you have a good morning too.”

“I will.”

Nate looked between them.

“You two done being polite?”

Eliana laughed.

“Goodbye, Nate.”

“Hey, I was just—”

She walked away.

Nate watched her for a moment.

Ilyas watched Nate.

“You're doing it again.”

Nate looked at him.

“Doing what?”

“Watching her.”

Nate smiled.

“Maybe.”

Ilyas said nothing.

But something about his expression had changed.

Just slightly.

The church service was beautiful.

Eliana sat quietly through the music, prayers, and sermon.

For the first time since moving, she felt completely settled.

After the service, she stepped outside and checked her phone.

Three messages.

One from her mother.

One from a friend.

And one from Nate.

Nate:

Don't tell me church lasted three hours.

She laughed.

Eliana:

It wasn't even two.

Nate:

Felt like three.

Eliana:

You weren't there.

Nate:

Exactly.

She shook her head.

Then another message came.

Nate:

Lunch?

Eliana hesitated.

She had planned to go home.

But she found herself smiling.

Eliana:

Who's paying?

Nate:

You.

She stared at the screen.

Eliana:

Goodbye.

Nate:

I'm joking!

Another message.

Nate:

I'll pay.

She smiled.

Eliana:

Fine.

When Eliana returned to The Hawthorne, Nate was already waiting downstairs.

But he wasn't alone.

Ilyas was there too.

Eliana stopped.

“You invited him?”

Nate shrugged.

“He invited himself.”

Ilyas looked at him.

“You called me.”

“You still came.”

“I was hungry.”

Eliana laughed.

“So where are we going?”

Nate pointed toward the street.

“There's a restaurant nearby.”

They started walking.

Eliana walked between them.

For a while, everything felt easy.

Natural.

Until a young woman walking past smiled at Nate.

Nate smiled back.

Eliana noticed.

She didn't know why she noticed.

She definitely didn't know why something inside her tightened.

It was ridiculous.

She barely knew him.

And he could smile at whoever he wanted.

She looked away.

Ilyas noticed.

Of course he did.

“You okay?”

“I'm fine.”

He glanced at her.

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

He didn't push.

Instead, he fell into step beside her.

Nate continued walking ahead.

A few minutes later, he turned around.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“Nothing,” Eliana said.

Nate looked at her.

Then at Ilyas.

“Okay.”

He slowed down until he was walking beside them again.

The three continued toward the restaurant.

None of them said anything about the strange tension that had appeared between them.

None of them understood it.

Not yet.

But something had changed.

It was small.

Almost invisible.

A glance held a little too long.

A smile that meant a little more than it should.

A feeling that none of them had a name for.

And somewhere between Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon, the friendship between the three neighbors began quietly becoming something else.

Something none of them were ready to recognize.

Yet.