We closed both locations at eight. Met at Brooklyn. Did the end-of-day routine together — cleaning, inventory, prep for tomorrow. The particular rhythm of two people who'd been doing this long enough that they didn't need to talk to coordinate. By nine thirty, we were done. We locked up. Walked home through Brooklyn in the June evening that smelled like summer and possibility. Our apartment was three blocks away. Small but comfortable. Filled with the accumulated debris of two lives fully integrated. Books and cooking equipment and the particular clutter of people who worked too much but loved what they were doing. We made dinner together. Nothing fancy. Just vegetables and rice and the wine we kept for Wednesdays because Wednesday was the middle of the week and deserved something special. We ate at the table by the window. Talked about the day. About Jordan and David. About Mira and Carmen. About Darius and his progress in the training program. About whether we were ready to th
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