Instead, I take in the bold words on the paper with a rock in my gut.
Dropping Hunter’s hand, I pull the paper off the door and hold it in front of me.
Eviction Notice
Perfect. I skim the text. Pretty straightforward. I have thirty days to vacate the premises.
I just stare at it for a second, hoping that if I keep looking at it, maybe the words will change.
No such luck.
“What is it?” Hunter asks.
I hand it to him without a word as tears burn my eyes.
Fuck, I’ve made such a goddamn mess of my fucking life. You have to pay your rent—I get it. But Iwas. I was working hard to get caught up. I thought my landlord was understanding and that we had an agreement. I guess not.
Hunter hums, but I can’t even look at him. Can’t bear to see what he thinks of my failure.
“What are we gonna do then?” he asks after a second. “What’s the plan?”
I bark out an incredulous laugh. “I don’thavea plan. My plan was to get my shit together for once in my life and get things caught up.”
Fuck, this is so goddamn embarrassing.
“Okay, but that didn’t happen.”
Ouch. “I know that, but thank you for pointing it out to me.”
“Theo.” I ignore him, choosing instead to stare at the door of my apartment. Well, the apartment that’s mine for the next thirty days. Or maybe twenty-eight. I don’t actually know what date it was put here. “Sweetheart.”
Damn him and that fucking pet name.
“Please turn around and look at me.”
With a sigh, I do. He’s holding the eviction paper loosely at his side, but his eyes are on me. “We need a new plan. That’s all.”
I scoff. “That’s all? I’m glad this is so fucking easy for you to just… just—” I wave a hand through the air. “I don’t know… rationalize. But it’s not that easy for me.”
Fuck. I hate this place, but it’s the only place I had. I could live in my car, right? At least until I can afford something else. There are enough parking garages in the city—well-lit with security cameras. It’s summer, so it would be fine.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing. Not really.
I could join a gym and shower there. Could sleep in the back seat.
“I can sleep in my car,” I blurt out. “It’s summer. That’ll give me time to figure something out and get a job.”
Hunter looks appalled. “No.”
“What do you meanno? You don’t get to just tell me what I can and can’t—”
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “No.Youdon’t get to tell yourself that living in your car is an acceptable next step when you’re already hangin’ on by a thread.”
I turn my head, clenching my jaw so I don’t break down in tears. That’s the last fucking thing I need right now. “I’d be fine. You don’t get it.”
Warm fingers brush my jaw, and it forces tears to well in my eyes. I want to laugh at myself when one falls, rolling down my cheek in what feels like slow motion. Hunter brushes it away.
“I do get it. You’re embarrassed. And probably scared. And it feels an awful lot like you’re trying to downplay your emotions so you don’t—I don’t know, really—have to admit to yourself that you’re a human with needs.”
