Page 13 of Carter

It’s done.

Glancing around the room, I grab my bags.

Everything here is his. The furniture. The paintings. The sculptures. All the decorating I did, I did with his money. He willingly shelled out every penny I requested. Generous with his wealth, I never wanted for anything.

He told me it made him happy to have my feminine touches around the place.

That it made him happy to see me happy.

That he wanted me to feel at home here.

And I did. Every minute.

Except for now.

I press the brimming tears from my eyes. I jog down the two flights of stairs. I pause in the foyer. I press my forehead against the back of the closed front door, saying a silent ‘goodbye’ to the beautiful rowhome that was my—our house for the past year. I open the door and step out onto the stoop, shutting it quietly behind me.

The night air is cool, almost cold. My bags hang from my shoulders. I wrap my arms around myself.

I have nowhere to go.

In a daze, I make my way down the front stairs. I stand on the street, utterly bewildered.

A fresh set of tears begin streaming from my eyes.

All my girlfriends are Bachman. They live in the Village. My parents live in Greece, where I was born and resided until I went to college in New York. I met Carter at his gym, and the rest was history.

And now, my life is history.

I have to start from scratch. Or go back to my parents.

I can’t face the idea of leaving the city I’ve grown to love.

I can’t even process the fact that I’ve lost the Village.

The biggest loss of all. I’ve lost him.

What have I done?

A sob escapes from my throat. My hand goes to my mouth, covering it. I take one deep breath.

I have nothing but the bags on my arms.

Before I can truly break down, I set my jaw and head off to Barbells. I’ll sleep there. I’ll teach my class at five a.m. I’ll take a hot shower, then I’ll figure out this mess.

Wait—I still work for him. He’s my boss.

How am I going to make it through the day, an hour—hell, even a couple of minutes—in his presence?

I walk down the street, tears falling, nose running, heart aching.

I’m going to have to find a job, a place to live.

My thumb hits the keypad. I go through the first gate.

He was my best friend.

My thumb presses the second keypad. I’m on the streets of the city.