It's objectively less nice than the place I shared with Brad and certainly a far cry from Alder's spacious townhouse. The bathroom is dated, the kitchen cramped, and I can already tell the closet space will be woefully inadequate.
But it's available immediately. And it could be mine alone.
"What's the rent?" I ask, already mentally calculating if I can make it work.
Jim names a figure that's high for the square footage but still within my budget—barely.
"Could I have a minute to think?" I ask.
"Sure thing. I need to take a call anyway." He steps out into the hallway, leaving me alone in the empty apartment.
I move to the window, looking out at the tree-lined street below. Despite its limitations, the apartment has good natural light, and the neighborhood feels safe. I could walk to shops and restaurants. Parking may be a bit of a nightmare, a far cry from the assigned spots at Alder’s.
Alder.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to remember this morning—waking in his bed, his arm thrown protectively across my waist, with Gordie snoring at our feet. Despite the lecture from Brian, we fell into bed together that evening, wordlessly. It all feels so right with him—the easy domesticity of making food together, his lips brushing my neck as he reaches past me for a mug or the salt. The way his eyes follow me across the room as if he can’t quite believe I am there.
It would be so easy to stay. To keep pretending we canmake this work. To sink further into the comfort and connection.
But Brian's words echo in my mind: "You slip up there, it's not just your ass on the line."
I can't be responsible for damaging Alder's career. And I can't risk losing the job I worked so hard to secure. Three hundred thousand dollars in student loans doesn't leave room for romantic indulgence. And it’s only a matter of time before Alder’s breakup catches up with him emotionally.
What we have is temporary, by definition—a summer fling. Eventually, it would end anyway. Better to make a clean break now before I'm in too deep.
If I'm not already.
Jim returns, and the phone call is completed. "So, what do you think?"
"I'll take it," I say before I can change my mind.
He seems pleased, pulling rental documents from his messenger bag. "Great. I can get you keys today if you've got the deposit."
Twenty minutes later, I stand on the sidewalk outside my new apartment building, keys in one hand, dress bag in the other. A strange mix of emotions swirls through me—pride at taking this step toward independence, anxiety about telling Alder, and a hollow ache at the thought of no longer waking up beside him every morning.
My phone buzzes with a text from the man in question:
How's shopping? When will you be home?
Home. The word makes my heart clench. Alder's townhouse has felt more like home in two weeks than my apartment with Brad ever did in four years.
Shopping was successful
I reply, deliberately ignoring his second question.
Heading back soon.
I look down at the keys and then back at my phone. I should tell him. He deserves to know I've found a place.
But not yet. Not today. Today, I want one more night of pretending this summer fantasy could be real. Tomorrow will be soon enough for reality.
I slip the keys into my purse and head for the bus stop, the weight of my decision sitting heavy on my chest.
CHAPTER 26
ALDER
The river looks different today—calmer,flatter, and more inviting than it had been last week when Lena and I took Gordie for his morning walk—perfect kayaking conditions. Lena and I are supposed to keep things professional, but we’re friends. I do shit with my friends.
