Just myself.
Then I sent my report at 7:42 and requested a personal day.
I texted the few friends I had invited and told them the surprise dinner was canceled. Chelsea was the only one I asked to still come.
I called Mr. Clement, our landlord, next.
“Hello, Ariana. Everything all right?”
I sent my report at 7:42.
“I need to ask about the lease.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s in my name only, correct?”
“Correct. You’re the listed tenant.”
“If I give proper notice, I’m responsible through the notice period, but not after?”
“That’s right, as long as the unit is returned properly.”
“And Scott?”
“I need to ask about the lease.”
“If he wants to stay after your notice period, he’d need to apply on his own.”
Plain and fair.
“Can you bring the notice paperwork by this evening?”
“I can stop by around six.”
“Thank you.”
When I hung up, I gripped the counter until my hands steadied.
Plain and fair.
The bedroom door opened.
Scott shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Did you make coffee?”
“There’s enough for a cup in the pot,” I said.
He poured it without noticing the folders on the table. “I’m meeting the band for most of the day. Don’t wait on me.”
“I won’t.”
He kissed the top of my head like nothing had happened, grabbed his jacket, and left.
“Don’t wait on me.”
The door clicked shut.
Then I moved.
I packed only what was mine: my books, my grandmother’s dishes, my work monitor, my photos with Chelsea, the blue throw blanket, and the coffee maker.
I hesitated over that, then packed it too.
Chelsea arrived with packing tape and looked at the folders.
“These are all bills?”
I packed only what was mine.
