The crisp evening air nipped at Elias's cheeks as he locked up the restaurant. The last of the waitstaff were heading home, their voices fading into the night. He stretched, feeling the familiar pull in his back, but tonight it felt… different. Lighter. He hadn't slept well in weeks, plagued by self-doubt. Now, a deep contentment seemed to settle in his bones.
He'd poured his heart into this place, and he was proud of how it had turned out.
He walked past the overflowing trash cans, a small one of the many things he would have to deal with in the morning.
He thought back on the night. The critic had sat at table number four, looking particularly stern. She’d ordered the lamb, the dish he'd worked tirelessly to perfect. He'd seen her take the first bite, a flicker of something, a movement he had barely noticed. He'd seen her write something in her notebook, but in his estimation, every other diner had enjoyed their meals. He’d chosen to ignore her.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the review, and quickly scanned it. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he read the words. He deleted the email, turned off his phone, and walked towards his car, the streetlight casting his shadow long on the sidewalk.
***