“The milkshakes are a love letter to your wife,” Halima says, seemingly the only person that’s completely unfazed. He nods, and my heart skips a beat. I try my hardest to bite back a smile and fail. I don’t think my heart has ever raced harder, wilder. For some reason, I’m reminded of my father’s words. Love isn’t always loud and obvious, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
