Page 110 of Sinful
"I know. And I'm grateful. Really. You gave me a chance when I needed it and I won't forget that." My voice cracks. "But I need more than survival now. I need to actually live."
He's quiet for a moment.
I can hear him breathing, can picture him standingbehind the bar with his phone pressed to his ear, probably shaking his head.
"All right," he says finally. "Good luck with whatever you're doing. And hey—your last paycheck is here if you want to pick it up. Two weeks' worth. I'll hold it for you."
"I'll come by in a couple days. Thank you, Jack. For everything."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't get sentimental on me." But his voice is softer. "Take care of yourself, kid."
"You too."
I hang up before the tears can start again.
One down.
The second call is easier.
My landlord—a guy named Rick who owns half the shitty apartments in my complex and charges too much for places with broken AC and questionable plumbing.
"Where's my rent?" he says instead of hello.
Of course. "I'm calling to give notice. I'm moving out."
"Moving out? You're month-to-month. You owe me for this month."
"No, I don’t. I was one of the few that actually paid you on time, remember?"
He's silent for a beat. "You serious?"
"Dead serious. I'll mail you the keys when I'm done cleaning."
"Where you going?"
"Texas. Different part. Closer to family."
"Huh." He doesn't sound like he cares, which is fair. I was just another tenant, just another check that sometimes came late. "Well, all right then. Make sure that place is spotless or I'm keeping the whole deposit. You know the drill."
"It will be. I promise."
"And get those keys back to me by the first. Don't make me chase you down."
"I won't."
I hang up and just sit there in the Florida heat, phone clutched in my hand, staring at nothing.
I did it.
Quit my job, ended my lease and officially closed the door on three years of hiding, three years of surviving, three years of being someone I'm not.
For what?
A guy I've known less than two weeks?
The panic starts to creep in—cold fingers wrapping around my chest, squeezing until I can't breathe properly.
What if he changes his mind?
