Only, this time when he called me that it didn’t make me want to rent a car exclusively to run him over with it.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
His hand froze halfway to the drawer beside the stove. He hung his head for a second. “Maybe things got off to a rocky start. We’re both coming at this from opposing sides, forced to work together, but we don’t have to fight. We can do this together, beat Oren & Co. at their own game, and figure out what we do about Winthorpe once they’re out of the picture. Maybe we can find another way and actually be friends.”
I crossed my living room and fell in step beside him, helping him put away the dishes he’d obviously cleaned last night, and unpack the groceries he’d bought this morning.
Squatting, I stuck the package of paper towels under the sink and leaned on the open cabinet door. “You even cleaned under the sink?”
He shrugged. “It needed it. I’ve got the rest of this. There are bagels and bacon in the bag on the counter. And some chocolate croissants. They’re fresh.” He ducked his head. “I figured I owed you.”
This swell of emotions was too much after everything that happened between us. Chocolate croissants. He’d remembered.
“You need to hydrate and have something to eat. How’s your stomach?”
I stood and dropped my hand to my no-longer-churning stomach. “Completely chili dog free and no longer pissed as hell at me for eating poison.”
“I warned you.” He opened another cabinet.
“Trust me. I won’t forget anytime soon.” I dug through the bags, setting everything out on the counter. Half a dozen bagels. Three types of cream cheese. A couple bagel sandwiches. And a big bottle of orange juice.
“What bagel and cream cheese did you want?”
“I can make it.”
I sawed mine open. “I know. But I want to.”
He chuckled. “Everything, with the Philly cream cheese.”
“On it.” I set out his bagel and poured us both a cup of OJ.
He finished putting everything away.
Picking at the seeds on my plate, I took a bite of my bagel now that he was no longer distracted by putting away the multitude of groceries he’d bought.
“So…” Leo rocked back on his heels with his gaze roaming my apartment and his hands in his pockets.
I picked at the sesame seeds on the top of my bagel, unable to hide the heat of embarrassment burning in my cheeks. “How’d I end up living in such a shithole?” I chanced a glance up at him.
He leaned against the counter, trying to keep his face neutral.
I scrubbed my hands down my face. “It’s a long story.”
Picking up his plate, he took a bite of his bagel and stood across from me in the cramped kitchen. It had never seemed too small before, but with Leo standing there, it suddenly felt undersized.
Trying to think of the best place to start, I sipped on my juice, trying to buy myself a little more time. “When I left college, I didn’t have many friends. Other people moved away or moved in with their college roommates, keeping the party going, but I didn’t have that luxury.
“I had a roommate. Technically, a roommate, but…my name is on the lease because I didn’t want to be at someone else’s mercy once I finally had my own place. She was a friend of a friend in college. And we lived together perfectly fine for the first year. We never fought. She was quiet and kept to herself and I was working all the time. Everything was kept clean and we’d set up a schedule to split the household duties.
“Things were going so well, I signed another 2-year lease at the reduced rate and things were perfect. Until she got a new boyfriend. You know how some people live a sheltered life in high school and go buck wild in college? This was her delayed version.
“He was her first real boyfriend. Things were off immediately. Stuff would go missing. Things were broken. I’d come home after a late night and there would be a hole in the wall or they’d be having sex on the couch. And I didn’t miss how she’d fallen behind on rent. The joint account we deposited our rent and utilities had been overdrawn and I’d had to pay the fees. Finally, I told her it was enough. He wasn’t allowed to come over anymore. The next night, I came back here and the place was trashed.”
Talking about it even now brought the tears back. I blinked them away. This had happened over a year ago. I should be over it. How not over it I was could be seen all over my still-trashed apartment.
“Most of my stuff was taken or destroyed. I called the cops, but—” I shrugged. Walking into my apartment after a long night of work had been one of the worst moments of my life. I’d finally started to feel like this was my real home. I’d been so proud, scouring flea markets and secondhand shops for fun or unique accents to make the apartment mine. And someone I’d trusted had dismantled it in a matter of hours.
Cleaning up everything I could, I’d fallen asleep on my comforter on the floor, since my mattress had been wrecked. Shredded, with springs bursting through the foam and fabric. Bits of glass from the busted light bulbs and dishes were all over it, like they’d taken special joy in making it unsalvageable.
My tears had blinded me as I swept up the broken glass and shattered plates, sneaking everything out after the cops had taken my statement and made their report.
Leo ran his hand down my arm. The comforting gesture was almost a step too far in pushing me into blubbering territory.
“They caught them.” A chunk of bagel met an unfortunate end from my poking and prodding finger. “But junkies aren’t notorious for taking care of their stuff, and they sure as hell don’t take care of other people’s stuff.”
She’d at least left my picture of me and Ty his first day at The Mercerville School. It had been a portrait taken by a photographer on move-in day. The frame was shattered and the corner ripped, but I still had one reminder of why I couldn’t give up.
“I bought a new mattress and found the rest of furniture you see here.” I couldn’t even look at it. My neck was on fire like I’d been out in the blazing sun for hours. Lawn furniture held together better than what I had. Another reason heading home after a long day of work didn’t hold the same charm to me as it might for others.
But owning nice stuff was another opportunity for it to be taken away. Even if I had the money, buying new things would’ve put me on edge, afraid it would disappear in a snap. “After that, I couldn’t really look at the place. It brought back too many bad memories. All the little touches I’d put into making this my home had been taken away from me.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to hunt them both down?” From the look on his face, he was completely serious.
It made my heart happy he cared so much. I shook my head, my throat clogged with a waterfall of emotions.
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” I stole a glance over my shoulder at the ruins of the home I’d tried to build. “I gave up on it. It wasn’t a safe place, and every time I turned on the lights it reminded me of what they’d done to me, so I stopped turning them on. I’d dump everything when I came in and try not to look too hard at anything.”
Wiping angrily at my face, I hoped the floor would open up and swallow me. Weepy wasn’t a good look on me and I’d already cried more than enough tears over the things in my past I couldn’t change. “It’s stupid, I know. I’m safe and healthy and that’s what matters.” There are worse things out there, Zara. Much worse.