Chapter 8%
“Yes,” I said. “List it. Put it on the market.”\
There was a short silence on the other end of the line, then the real estate agent cleared her throat. “Understood, Ms. Reid. Just to confirm, you’re selling the property fully? Will there be any tenants to notify?”
I exhaled slowly. “Yes. Three of them–Jackson, Jared, and Audrey. They’ve been living there with me for years. I want official notice sent to them after I’ve left.”
She paused. “Any rental contracts?”
“No,” I replied flatly. “They’ve been staying here for free. It was never supposed to be permanent.“\
The apartment had been a gift from my parents when I entered college. A quiet, two–bedroom flat turned into a shared space once Jared and Jackson moved to the city with me. Audrey followed a year later, right after her adoption was finalized. I had begged my parents to let me live independently, to build a life with them, to be free from the pressure of our family’s company.
They didn’t understand. They thought I was reckless. But I was just in love–with Jared, with the idea of a found family, with the dream of forever.
Back then, nothing mattered more than being together.
Now, everything I built had crumbled.
“I want an invoice calculated,” I added to the agent. “Back rent for the past four years. Break it down clearly. If they can’t pay it, kindly begin the process to remove them.”
“Consider it done,” she replied. “I’ll prepare all paperwork discreetly and schedule the listing.“%
I’nodded. “Thank you.“”
After ending the call, I dialed another number–my storage and estate agent.
“I want all my things sold,” I told him. “Furniture. Appliances. Whatever’s still here.“8
“All of it?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m not taking anything with me.”
The call ended, but I didn’t move right away.
I looked around the apartment–my apartment–for what I knew was the last time. It felt quieter than usual, but maybe that was just the emptiness finally settling in. The walls that once held laughter now only echoed back silence.
I walked through the living room slowly, letting my fingers trail across the back of the couch where we used to pile up on movie nights. The dent in the cushion where Audrey used to sit was still there. So was the chip in the coffee table Jackson caused after tripping over his own shoes. Even the photo on the wall–our first one together, fresh out of college–still smiled back at me.
I remembered baking banana bread with Jared at 2 a.m., how we burned the first one and still ate it anyway. The nights we all sat around this very table, playing cards, betting on who’d do the next grocery run. The way they made me feel like this place was more than just bricks and furniture–it had been ours.
I had built my little world here. A home.
And now it was a graveyard of memories.
A part of me still wanted to believe we could’ve saved it. That maybe, if I had just tried a little harder…
But no. I had tried. Far too long.
With a steady breath, I whispered, “Goodbye,” to the space–and to the girl who had once believed that love alone could hold people together.
Then I picked up my suitcase, stepped out the door, and didn’t look back. I checked into a modest hotel across town–something temporary until my flight. No goodbyes. No closure.
Just silence.
It wasn’t peace yet, but it was the closest I’d come in years.
I was sipping tea in the hotel room when my phone buzzed.
Jared: What is happening? Why is there someone here picking up our things??!
I didn’t answer right away. I let him stew in confusion for a moment. Then I typed back: Oh, that’s the eviction notice.
A second later, he called.
I answered.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “Eviction? Why are movers here? Is this some joke?“>
“I’m selling the apartment,” I said calmly. “The papers were signed this morning.”
“You can’t sell it!” he shouted. “We didn’t agree to that!”
“I don’t need your agreement,” I said coldly. “It’s my apartment. You’ve never paid a single cent. Not for rent, not for electricity, not even for the groceries.”
He went quiet, but only for a second.
“You’re overreacting–again, he snapped. “Come on, Maureen. We can fix this. Stop making it worse.“@
“There’s nothing to fix, Jared,” I said, standing by the hotel window, watching the rain blur the city lights. “I’m done. With all of you.“3
Spying my Boytriert wa
My Warkin withrestom
12
200
2:13 PM
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I’ve meant it for a long time now.”
And with that, I ended the call.
No screaming. No begging. Just the dial tone.
e
e
I stared at the phone for a moment, then scrolled to the one contact that still mattered.”
712
