Jamal leaned against the rain-streaked window of the 42 bus, watching the city lights blur into watercolor smears across the glass. Three stops ago, he'd gotten the text from Zoe: "I think we should talk."
Four words that carried the weight of endings things.
The bus came to a halt at his stop. He stepped onto the wet sidewalk, rainwater splashing on his $150.00 tennis shoes as he made his way to Devin's apartment. Music thumped from inside—his friend's monthly gathering of their old high school crew, now scattered across colleges and first jobs.
Jamal slipped through the door without announcing himself. The apartment was crowded with familiar faces, everyone laughing and shouting over the music. No one noticed his quiet entrance or the pressure building behind his eyes.
He found an empty corner and leaned against the wall, watching. There was Marcus with his arm around Tiana—five years together and still looking at each other like they'd just met. Across the room, Kelly was showing off her engagement ring to a circle of admiring friends.
"You look like you're contemplating or just got dumped by your girlfriend," Devin said, appearing beside him with two beers.
Jamal took one with a half-smile. "Just thinking."
"About Zoe?"
"About all of it. Love. Relationships." He took a long sip. "Sometimes I wonder if we're all just playing pretend. Creating stories about connection because we're afraid to be alone."
Devin raised an eyebrow. "Aww so she did dump you on a Saturday night."
"My grandparents were married fifty-two years. Never apart a day." Jamal watching condensation slide down his bottle. "But my parents couldn't make it past ten. My sister's already divorced at twenty-six."
"So what's your question? Devin asked.
Jamal: Is love real or are we all delusional?"
Devin: "Something like that."
The party swirled around them, a collection of human connections—some faded out, some lasting. Jamal thought about the text waiting for a response on his phone.
"I don't know, man," Devin said, following Jamal looked over to where Marcus was now twirling Tiana to the music. "I think maybe it's both. Maybe love is an illusion that you create together. But that doesn't make the feeling any less real."
Outside, the rain had stopped. Jamal's phone beeped again:
Zoey: "Are you coming over tonight? I miss you."
Maybe this is not the end after all. Maybe just another beginning.
"I gotta go," Jamal said suddenly.
Devin nodded knowingly. "Tell Zoe I said what’s up."
As Jamal stepped back into the night, the city around him seemed different—not clearer exactly, but somehow more honest in its complexity. Love might be part illusion, but tonight, he was choosing to believe in it anyway.