Zarar’s father jumps into a story about a family road trip they had back in 2006. Jay reminisces about listening to Percy Jackson books on audio as a family during the ride and how funny they were. Zarar’s mom tells me they used to play some sing-along game together when they weren’t listening to audio books, but Javed would always push for a new title because he loves books so much.

Terry jumps in, smiling and cracking jokes about how their current apartment is so overloaded with books, they look like a couple of hoarders. Zarar asks how the wedding planning is going, and they all have a ball lightly making fun of Javed for being more into the decor part of planning than Terry is.

I listen to everything, smiling and struggling to process how close these people are. How they took road trips together. They were in the same car for hours at a time and they loved it. We eat our food and stay at the table long past finishing. Just talking. They talk about their neighbors, the TV shows they’re all watching, movies, pop culture. They include me, asking specific questions to make sure I’m still a part of their conversations. There are no arguments. There are no long silences. They’re genuinely happy to be around one another.

I didn’t think these types of families were actually a thing. His parents are still in love. They watch each other with such kindness and care. Concern. They pay attention. They’re all listening to one another. When I talk, they listen raptly to what I say. They comment and ask thoughtful follow-up questions. They’re all so open. Zarar’s parents knew everything he and I had done this past week.

Their love is so warm. Their support for Zarar is so palpable.

I feel heavy as Z and I ride the subway back into the city. It’s 9:30 p.m. when we reach Penn Station. Zarar walks with me to the platform where I’ll catch the train back to Jersey.

“So … your family’s phenomenal,” I tell him quietly.

Zarar is flushed with what I could only describe as an elated glow.

“Yeah, I love them,” he says out of the side of his mouth. He reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear. “Thank you for coming. I loved having you there with us. They loved you.”

I pull up a small smile and grab his hand. “I had a great time. Thank you. Honestly, thank you for inviting me, Zarar. It’s a super bummer that I’m leaving tomorrow.”

I can’t stop staring at him. He’s smiling-smiling. It’s kind of just like his non-smile smile; it’s on one side of his face. But bigger and less subtle. It’s really hot.

“You know what’s great about the fact that you’re leaving again for forever tomorrow?” he says.