is your apartment.”
“What do you mean?” I take a step back and open my mouth.
He did it again. I can’t believe he’s just setting me up in a penthouse. There’s this nice, beautiful studio apartment down on DTC Boulevard that I can afford, I want to tell him but shut my mouth. He always wins those arguments.
“If you read your contract, the job came with housing,” he points out. “This is your place.”
Like me, Wes didn’t have much when he arrived at the Ahern’s house. The difference between us is that he learned to live with luxury, whereas I can’t handle it—not even after all this time. Like him, I learned to work hard and to give as much as I receive. He loves to give. He gives me everything he can to make me feel safe, comfortable … some days I feel like I’m mooching.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he tells me.
“Do you?” I cross my arms, arching an eyebrow.
“That this is too much, that you could afford your own place. You’ll then remind me Dad paid for college and your room and board already.”
“Expensive room and board,” I remind him. “I could’ve lived in the dorms.”
“Really?” He stares at me.
I drop my gaze, exhaling harshly.
My sleeping habits are different from others’. I need to have my window closed tightly. I prefer it if the windows in my bedroom are sealed. I set several nightlights in my room, and I play music all night long. If I had stayed in the dorms, I would’ve been reported and probably kicked out after a few incidents. Or my eyes would’ve remained open until I graduated.
“I had the electrician install a chandelier in your room,” he adds.
“I shouldn’t need it,” I protest like a little child who thinks she’s tall enough to ride Space Mountain but who’s nearly two inches shy of the height requirement.
“Therapy,” he throws one of his favorite words around.
I open my mouth, close it, and shake my head. He exhales harshly, taking a set of keys out of his pocket and opening the door.
“You have a copy of the key to my place?” I ask with annoyance.
“I’m your landlord,” he reminds me. “And I have more than one copy since you misplace your keys often.”
“Ugh.” I walk around the apartment, ignoring his remark.
The walls are bare. Some of my boxes are in the middle of what I believe is the living room. The open kitchen faces the entrance. To my left, the view is dark, but I imagine that’s the west side of town. I bet that during the day the view of the mountains becomes part of the house décor.
“We bought you a temporary bed. We can buy the rest tomorrow,” he rolls over the bags toward the staircase.
“Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”
I follow behind him. The upstairs floor is smaller than the first story. There’s a bedroom with a large enough closet and bathroom. The place is big, but not as big as I’d imagined a penthouse.
This scene reminds me of the day I first met him, yet we’re two totally different people. He’s so much older. Wes isn’t the twenty-three-year-old kid who just graduated from Stanford and was trying to make a mark at his father’s office. Now, he’s almost thirty and in charge of the whole company.
Life doesn’t stop; it never stops.
Linda says that all the time. If you wait until you’re ready for life, you will miss it. No one is ready for what’s to come. That’s why you must learn how to live and be strong enough to face anything that’s thrown your way.
The truth is that I’ve never been very strong. All these years I hid from my past, pushed it away, and tried to survive. Now, I’m back, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to live it truthfully.
Chapter Nine
Abby
After I saw my new bathroom, I kicked Wes out of my apartment. I desperately needed a shower to wash away the anxiety and the smell of the plane. Once I was done unpacking my bags and freshening up, I walked to Wes’ apartment. He invited me for dinner before he left.
“Nice digs,” I say when he opens the door. “Do I get a key to your house?”
“Are you going to lose it?”
“Never mind, Ahern,” I groan inspecting his place.
Even though we live on the same floor, his apartment is very different from mine. The living room and dining room walls are nearly all glass with a view of