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30 | FRANC E SCA PE NN

“It’s my fault. I’m sorry for freaking you out.” There is a weariness in his voice,
and I notice how tired he looks for the first time. “I have to catch you up on the
craziness of my weekend.”
“Listening,” I say in my Charlie Sheen voice. He laughs, and some of his
natural cheeriness returns. I watch his cheerfulness slowly seep out of his pores as

he tells me the horrid details of his weekend.
“That bitch.” It flies out my mouth before I can think. I cover my mouth
horrified at what I said. I cannot bash the woman who he may still love.
“I won’t argue with you on that,” He concurs between bites of his omelet. “I’d
already suspected that we wouldn’t make it, but I didn’t think that this is what
would break us up.” He drinks water before continuing, “I took a few days off so I
can do the walk through with the condo manager, get tested for everything, and
figure out my living arrangements.” He looks at me for a moment like he is trying
to read my mind. “Have you sold the other house yet?”
My heart drops. My good news would now be bad news for him. “I just
accepted an offer on Friday. It’s in escrow.” He looks as if I’ve snatched the rug
from under him. I frown apologetically, but an idea hits me with such force, my
mouth works before my brain. “But I have your blue room ready.”

His eyes are as big as his plate. “I can’t infringe on your privacy. I was hoping
to make a deal or temporary arrangement until you sold the other house…”
“It’s no problem! Unless you are a serial killer.” I lean in closer. “Blink once if
you have Dexter like tendencies. I won’t tell anyone, but that could affect my
offer.”
He laughs and pushes his plate aside. “No. I’m perfectly sane. I cannot move
in with you. Your boyfriend will not approve.”
I frown. “I’m a grown woman,” I mock him. He retaliates and tosses his straw
wrapper at me. I swat at it and miss; it still hits me on the nose. “Besides, I don’t
have a boyfriend.”
He picks up the tab against my protests – he is the one that’s practically
homeless for the next few months – and we walk towards our cars. He looks at me
again. “I thought you said you had a boyfriend.”
I shake my head. “Nope, when I told you about the dress, I said, “THE
boyfriend.” Meaning the boyfriend at that time. He broke up with me in January.
My mom said it was because he didn’t want to buy any Valentine’s Day gifts.”