you never really cared for fancy dates. you’d be fine with pizza and a movie. your boyfriend, joey, was happy that you were like that, especially since he was a struggling actor.

he always felt bad not being able to buy you the nicest things or take you out on the fanciest dates.

you always reassured him, telling him that you love him no matter what. he made a plan that he would eventually take you to the nicest restaurant when he could.

now here you are. Well, it’s not the nicest restaurant in manhattan, but it’s some nice italian restaurant.

you and joey sit across from each other, your hand in his as you two talk. it’s quiet, the air filled with soft music.

“i know it’s not the nicest restaurant in new york, but I hope you like it,” he says, running his thumb along your hand.