Page 99 of Inflame

“Good luck. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me. The guest room is always open.”

I frown over her offer. It’s not fair to be living your best life and then have to deal with a third wheel. Graham and she are only getting married to make it legal. They are basically joined forever already and living daily like newlyweds. The last thing they need is some depressed downer to be moping around their place, watering down their happiness.

“Thanks, I do appreciate it.”

“I know you do, Claire. I’m always here for you.”

I slow down the pace to give her a half hug. We circle around and head over to the penthouse. I pack up my belongings and decide that I better wait at the apartment in case Ethan decides to show up. He can’t avoid me forever.

* * *

When I arrive at the building, I take note again of all of the security features that are lacking. Having Nic in this space last night just emphasized that this is not a safe place to live. I take the stairs. It’s not like there is an alternative, so lucky me, I love stairs.

Despite Angie’s guest shower looking amazing, I forgot to pack a lot of my toiletries, so taking a shower here is the first thing on my mind. I use my key to enter and push open the door to find the place completely empty. Everything is gone.

Shit. Was I robbed?

I glance around the living room and kitchen and the bedroom. Nothing. Everything’s gone.

I walk into the bathroom and not even the partial bar of soap was spared. It is like every memory of me being here has been wiped clean. I wrestle for my phone in the bottom of my bag and find Ethan’s number.

Claire: Either we got robbed or all of our things just vanished out of the apartment…

I am still in shock. Surely something was left behind. Should I call the police? Try to find the landlord’s phone number on the bulletin board downstairs? I was just here last night. Whatever happened was done within twelve hours.

I walk out of the apartment and double-check that I got the correct room number and not an empty unit waiting for tenants. Nope. This is it.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text from Ethan. He must be done ignoring me. I pop open the app in a hurry and read his response.

Ethan: Storage Plus, unit 17, office on the corner has your key to release your belongings, 24 hour access

Claire: You packed my stuff up and shipped it away?

Ethan: I paid someone to

Claire: Why!

Ethan: I’m done with you taking and taking and taking. The apartment’s lease was not renewed. Do not go back there. Drop off your key immediately in the box in the lobby or owe me a month’s rent, plus the extended service penalty fee.

I must be having a seizure or a nightmare or am completely losing my mind. What else could explain this sudden shift? I am homeless.

I can’t go back to Angie’s. I can’t stomach the thought of poisoning her mind with the toxicity that keeps oozing out of every aspect of my life. She will take one look at me and know I am shattered. With the wedding day approaching, she needs to focus on love.

I switch over to Blake and send him a text.

Claire: Hey. I hate to do this. But can I crash on your couch until I find a place to stay?

Blake: Only if you watch trash TV with me and tell me your woes during commercial breaks.

Claire: You sell a hard bargain.

Blake: You know my hetero roomie has the hots for you, right? In case you are in the market for a man-child.

Claire: How can he when we never met?

Blake: Your caller ID pic on my phone must have made a lasting impression on his libido.

Claire: I thought you said you could turn him.

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