Page 11 of Invisible Bars

“Wha-what’s this?” I asked, my fingers hesitating just above it.

“Something I meant to give you a while ago,” he said. “Just a little savings I’ve been tucking away ever since you moved in. In case you ever needed it.”

My eyes widened. “Blu, I can’t?—”

“Don’t argue with an old man, Naji. That’s bad luck,” he cut in with a chuckle, though his eyes held something more serious beneath the humor. “You don’t have to open it now; just make sure you do… eventually.”

I looked down at the envelope, suddenly heavier in its meaning than in its weight. Hesitantly, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around it, clutching it gently.

“Use it how you need it. In no way is this me telling you that you gotta get the hell up outta here. But I also know you don’t plan on stayinghereforever.”

“Would you l-let me stay forever?”

Blu laughed, soft and low, probably thinking I was just being playful… but I wasn’t.

There was a unique peace in that place, one I hadn’t encountered anywhere else in my life. Up there—high above the relentless noise of the city, above the harsh judgment that often felt suffocating, and far removed from a world that never seemed to hold me with the tenderness I craved—I could truly breathe.

The very thought of moving away, uprooting myself and starting anew in some unfamiliar landscape, filled me with a sense of dread. It felt like tearing out fragile roots that hadn’t even fully grown, pulling them from the fertile ground that hadnurtured me for so long. Just considering it sent a wave of anxiety crashing over me, tightening my chest. So no, I wasn’t joking… not entirely. Deep down, a part of me desperately hoped Blu would recognize the weight of my words, the truth behind them.

“I mean, if you really want to, of course,” he responded quickly, as if trying to retract his words. “But Naji, why would you want to? You’re so beautiful… men practically throw themselves at your feet. And I know that deep down, you dream of that perfect wedding—all the things little girls fantasize about as they grow up. And kids… you want children, don’t you?”

I do. I would cherish all of that one day—a loving family, a type of love that lasts forever, someone to share laughter with on joyous days, and to hold hands with during the difficult times,I almost admitted openly.

But those words never left my mouth. I just nodded slightly, keeping them safe in my silence. However, that vision filled my heart with hope, even as I stood on the precipice of uncertainty.

Blu looked at me a bit longer, then let out a slow breath like something heavy had been sitting on his chest.

“Listen to me, Naji, life is… too short,” he continued. “People say that all the time, treating it like empty words, but I mean it. Life moves quickly, almost in the blink of an eye. One minute, you’re excitedly making plans for next summer, dreaming of lazy beach days and unforgettable adventures, and the next… you’re just hoping to survive the week. You think you have time, but time doesn’t ask for your schedule or what you dreamed of doing; it just keeps on rolling along, indifferent to your wishes.”

His eyes were steady on mine now.

Not intense. Not scary. Just real.

“I’ve seen too many peoplewait, Naji. They wait for the right moment to propose the question. They wait for a little more money saved up before traveling the world. They wait fora perfect sign from the universe before pursuing their passions. Then, one day, they blink, and suddenly, it’s too late. They never express what they truly wanted to say. They never embark on that life-changing trip. They never steal a kiss from someone who could have meant everything. They never chase after that dream job because they were alwayswaitingfor peace, waiting for permission, or waiting for a later that might never arrive.”

He paused again, gazing down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if recalling memories etched into his very being—moments he wished he could share but knew were too painful to revisit.

When Blu finally looked back up, I noticed a depth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time—an amalgamation of strength and vulnerability reflecting the raw, worn truth of a man who had loved deeply… and lost profoundly, too.

“But later doesn’t always come,” he went on. “All you get isnow.And if you’re lucky—reallucky—you’ll get somebody to share thatnowwith. Somebody who makes you forget the noise, the weight, the war going on around you. Somebody that makes five minutes feel like a lifetime. That’s rare, and when it shows up, you don’t ask why and you don’t push it away… youhonorit.”

In that moment, Blu was more than likely thinking about his wife, who had passed away a few years prior. Blu told me once—in one of his rare, reflective moments—that he was never the same after her death. Said he used to be louder, lighter; the kind of man who laughed from his chest and danced like he had rhythm, even when he didn’t. But when she died, something in him quieted. Not in a dramatic, fall-apart-in-the-street kind of way… just slowly, like a light dimming room by room.

And now, as he sat across from me, eyes heavy but voice calm, I could see it—that familiar emptiness people carry when they’ve lost something too valuable to name. It wasn’t just grief,but the haunting understanding that life doesn’t pause just because your world does.

I know that feeling… all too well.

“Well, I know you got to go read or watch your favorite shows, and you don’t got time to be hearing an almost 70-year-old man ramble about his old stories,” Blu said, waving a hand like he was dismissing himself before I could.

“I—I don’t mind, Blu. Really,” I replied quickly, hoping he knew I meant it.

“I’m sure you don’t. But this place will start getting crowded soon, and I know how you feel about crowds.”

“Yeah…” I murmured, glancing away, already feeling the tension creep into my shoulders just thinking about it.

“But look, it’s the weekend—go unwind. I would love for you to join me down here one night, but…” he trailed off with a soft shrug. “I understand.”

Then he reached beneath the counter and slid me a cold bottle of ginger ale like he was offering me aged whiskey.