= Chris POV =
I waited downstairs while Sarah got ready. My nerves were shot, so I stepped out and walked toward the vending machine at the lift lobby to grab us some drinks.
I should’ve swiped some free coffees from the hotel’s barista before leaving work. Who could’ve predicted my apartment would end up looking like a war zone by the time I got home?
I bent down and grabbed the dispensed cans of coffee when I heard it.
“Chris~~!”
Her voice rang out behind me, light and melodic, but something about the way she said my name made my pulse tick faster.
I turned—and there she was, stepping out of the lift like she owned the world.
Sarah was a vision in cream. Her tank top hugged her curves like it was tailored to her body, and the pencil skirt clung to her hips in a way that almost demanded attention. She ruined it—just a little—with those awful brown fur boots she loved so much. But somehow, even the fur-trimmed monstrosities worked with her look tonight.
She adjusted the strap of her purse and reached out toward the drinks in my hand.
“Shall I help you with those?” she asked, her smile sweet and disarming.
I stared at her. After everything—after the chaos she’d unleashed in my home—how could she look this innocent? How was I still putting up with her nonsense?
I forced a smile and handed her the drinks.
We both loved coffee, so I figured it would be the olive branch we needed to get through this night.
The walk toward the park was quiet—uncomfortably so.
Sarah didn’t seem to notice. She kept talking, her voice bubbling with excitement as she unched into some story I barely registered. I nodded at all the right moments, pretending to listen while my thoughts churned.
I liked her. I really liked her.
But there were limits.
And tonight, Sarah was pushing every single one of them.
The sun had started to set by the time we reached the park. Orange and gold light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows over the grass and benches.
“Lol, I can see my apartment from here,” Sarah said suddenly, her voice light and amused.
I stopped mid-step.
Her apartment?
What apartment?
Her apartment was over an hour’s drive away. That was why she’d moved in with me, wasn’t it?
“Really? Where?” I asked, half-ughing as I turned, expecting her to point at some faraway tower in the horizon.
Instead, she pointed across the park—to a building so close it might as well have been within shouting distance.
I froze.
“What?”
The word came out sharp. Too sharp. Sarah’s smile faltered.
Her expression shifted in an instant, her pyful confidence evaporating as her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights.
“Umm…” Her voice trembled. “What I mean to say…”
She was floundering.
Her gaze darted between the apartment building and my face—my livid face.
“Sarah,” I said, keeping my voice low even as anger roiled under the surface. “You trashed my apartment. You turned my life upside down. And now you’re going to stand there and tell me you have an apartment of your own?”
Her hands shot up to clutch the front of her top, fingers twisting into the fabric as tears welled in her eyes.
She was panicking.
I was scaring her.
What am I doing?
I looked down, pressing my lips together as I counted to ten under my breath. This had to be a misunderstanding. I hadn’t been paying attention earlier—maybe she’d been joking.
But when I gnced up, she took a step back.
No.
I reached out and caught her wrist before she could bolt.
“Just. Expin.”
I softened my voice, but I couldn’t keep the strain out entirely. “Look, I’m tired. I wasn’t even listening to half of what you said earlier. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Sarah trembled in my grip.
“Please don’t hit me,” she whispered, so softly it almost didn’t register. “Or be mad at me.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
I released her wrist immediately. “I don’t hit people,” I said firmly. “Not unless they hit me first.”
I gestured toward a nearby bench. “Sit.”
Sarah hesitated before sinking down next to me, hands folded tightly in her p.
“So…” I prompted, dragging out the word.
She let out a shaky breath.
“The thing is…I may have lied to you. About the whole being homeless thing.”
I blinked.
“What?”
She rushed through the rest of it. “I was drunk, and I said some stupid things, and then I didn’t know how to back out of it.”
“But you weren’t drunk yesterday!” I snapped. “You literally shoved that contract in my face like it was a binding agreement.”
“I know! I know. I just—I wanted to spend more time with you, okay?” She looked down at her hands. “I tried to tell you it was a joke. At the lift. And during dinner. But you kept brushing it off. And then it spiraled, and I didn’t know how to fix it…”
I ran a hand through my hair, repying the moments she mentioned.
“The lift…”
I vaguely remembered her saying something that I’d brushed off as sarcasm or self-deprecation.
“Wow,” I said, leaning back. “Your pranks suck.”
Sarah’s shoulders slumped. “I just wanted to…get closer to you.”
Her voice was so small, so raw, that it knocked the wind out of me.
I followed her gaze toward the apartment building.
“So which unit is it?” I asked, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat. “That expins the single suitcase. What about the eviction notice?”
“It’s from my previous pce. I kept it as a reminder to get my act together,” she admitted. “I should’ve hidden it better.”
She pointed at a darkened window on the eighth floor.
“08-12,” she said quietly.
The light in the window flickered on.
I narrowed my eyes. “Roommates?”
“No!” Sarah jumped to her feet. “No, I live alone—wait! Oh my god. Am I getting robbed?!”
She didn’t wait for an answer.
Before I could stop her, she bolted across the park, her fur boots kicking up dirt as she ran straight toward the building.
“Sarah—seriously?!” I shouted after her, but she didn’t slow down.
I stared at her retreating figure, my heart pounding as the whole evening unraveled faster than I could process.
And all I could think was—what the hell just happened?
