“No, it’s not fine,” he countered.

“The tea,” I finalized, and she left, visibly sorry for the situation. “I’m used to it,” I explained to Gabe. “It’s hard to find diabetic-friendly options anywhere.”

“Well then, I’ll open a restaurant for diabetics. And a café too,” he said as casually as if he were saying, “I’m going to the bathroom and back.”

I sighed, resigned, and asked directly, “What do you want with me? How did you find me here?”

“I ...