The Arrangement (A Real Man, #23) - Jenika Snow Page 0,5

I was envious.

The upstairs was a wreck though, with ladders and paint cans. He was renovating that, the loft style area, bedroom, and bathroom upstairs the only rooms above.

And after I grabbed something quick to eat a, I locked myself back in the room for the rest of the day. He hadn’t bothered me when he’d gotten home either. Maybe he’d know I needed my space. Maybe he’d know this was just as weird for me as it was for him. Either way, I knew I was going to have to face him… face this new reality eventually.

I might as well get it done and over with, right?

So I pushed the blankets off my body and sat up, letting my feet hang down, my toes touching the bare floor. It was chilly despite this time of year. I braced my hands on the edge of mattress and stared at the window. The blinds were closed, so I couldn’t make out what was happening outside, but I imagined how active it would get as the day progressed. People going to work, getting ready to start their day.

Which reminded me that I needed to look for a new job right away. I needed to start making money so I could contribute to staying here, as well as saving up so I could leave. God, I wish I’d had the kind of relationship where I could speak with my mother, where I could lean on her for support, where she told me everything would be okay.

My cell phone vibrated with an incoming text and I glanced over at it, picking it up and looking down at the screen. Speak of the devil. My mother, although I’d like to think her intentions were good, had always been self-absorbed. Her looks, the way she dressed, how she lived in general... it all screamed “Me.”

And so when I saw the text picture of the five new designer dresses she had sprawled out across her silk comforter on her king-sized bed, I felt annoyance. Her text explained how she was excited she and Rodney—the man she had the affair with and former student—were attending a charity event at a local country club. She had the nerve to ask me which dress she should wear. My mother, who knew how bad I had it right now, all but rubbed this in my face. My mother, who hadn’t even offered to give me moral support, let alone any financial help, sent me this.

All I could do was exhale in frustration and set the phone down.

She didn’t care about my problems, because me telling her anything, confiding in her, would only ruin her day. In fact, it had when I explained my job loss, the fact that I couldn’t afford my apartment. She’d asked me what I had done wrong to be fired.

She’d actually asked me that.

I ran a hand over my face, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and slid my fingers through my hair, trying to detangle the strands. I stood and walked over to my bag, grabbing my makeup bag and a change of clothes, and then just stood there and stared at the door.

I didn’t hear anything.

“Stop being a baby. You’re twenty-two years old, a grown-ass woman. Just get it done and over with. Don’t let him know you’re still hurting or that you love him, and you’ll be fine.” I pulled my shoulders back and held my head high, feeling a little bit of resolve fill me. “Wear that fucking armor like you own it,” I whispered to myself, even if I felt like it was a lie right now.

After changing my clothes, I opened the bedroom door, stood there, and just listened. The only thing I could hear was a clock ticking in the distance. All the lights were off, the morning sun illuminating what I could see in the living room, as well as a little bit of the hallway. I stepped out and my bare toes kicked something on the ground. I looked down and saw my favorite candy bar sitting there.

I nearly cried.

He’d gotten it for me when he’d gone to the store.

I bent down, picked it up, and saw some writing on the white package.

These always made you feel better, and I think right now you could really use some cheering up.

Beckham had written that? He felt that way? It seemed like the old him, the man I’d grown up with, the man I fell in love with. But it