Page 28 of Breaking Away

28

KAVI

That evening, my doorbell rings.

The sound makes the blood drain from my face. Is it him? Has Tyler come to wow me with some gesture so I’m swept off my feet and tied to a current so confident I’ll struggle to swim against it?

He messaged me an hour ago. The text was straightforward.

Pick up your phone, babes. You need me.

It’s not a new kind of message from Tyler, but for some reason, reading it made my gut curdle. His words felt threatening instead of reassuring. Diminishing instead of supportive. Cornering instead of freeing.

Not only that, but because of the timing I’m even closer to being convinced this eviction was orchestrated by Tyler. Except?—

Even if I do confront him, I know he would never admit to it. Instead he’ll say something like:

Why would I do something to harm you? You are my soulmate. I love you, and let's actually take this as a sign that we’re supposed to move in together. That the universe wants us to work through this. You know I would never hurt you. In fact, this means I can take care of you. I’ve got money, babes. I’ve got a successful career. You don’t need to freak out about anything. All I need is for you to support me. Is that so hard?

It’s kind of disturbing how I can hear his exact reasoning in my head. So much of the sentiment is recycled from our other interactions, but the way it now makes me feel… that’s new.

The doorbell rings again.

I mumble, fidget, and zip my sweater so it swallows me. My feet tap against the floor. If I answer the door, this will be the messiest anyone has seen me look. When Tyler and I were together, I wouldn’t let a random hair grow on my knuckles. That’s how manicured I was.

A pang of defiance runs through me. Maybe this is a good thing. If it’s him, let him see what state I’m in. Especially if he’s the reason that I’m losing this apartment.

Is it?!

Maybe I can convince him to speak to my landlord? To call it off? There’s no way I can find another place right now. I’ve looked and cried and looked for any alternative, other than moving back in with my parents?—

There’s nothing.

Deciding to get it over with, I barge over and swing my door open.

It’s not Tyler.