Page 7 of One Room Vacancy
I scoff.
“I’m serious—they’re done.”
“Whether I believe you or not, I don’t want him living here.”
“He doesn’t have anywhere to go.”
“Then get an Airbnb.”
“He’s moving in, Sage.”
I groan as my brother exits my apartment—his apartment, technically.
It isn’t that I dislike Gabe; I just don’t want to share a residence with him. It’s too complicated. However, I can’t tell Wes that. As far as he knows, I just have a petty dislike for the man.
After Wes leaves, I pace the living room for a while, beer in hand, flipping through a dozen rebuttals I should’ve made to change his mind. But none of them matter. He’s already made the call. Gabe Keaton is moving in.
I don’t want him here. I don’t want him anywhere near my space or my peace or my half-stocked fridge. But, more than anything, I don’t want the version of me I used to be around him. The one who made excuses, the one who let a handful of moments rewrite years of messy silence.
Eventually, when my phone buzzes with a “you still coming?” text from Savannah, I grab my keys and head out.
Later that night, Savannah sets a glass of red wine down in front of me with an awkward look on her face. She pulls out a different bottle of white from the fridge and pours her own glass. I’ve been staring into the abyss of her marble countertop for ten full minutes, replaying the earlier conversation with Wes on a loop.
“So, are you going to tell him Gabe can’t move in?” I ask for the second time since getting here twenty minutes ago.
“You know I don’t have that kind of power…and I’m not sure I’d want to, anyway.” She lets out a sigh before collapsing onto the barstool next to me. “Besides, I thought you’d be excited. You’ve always had a crush on him.”
Yeah yeah, the never-ending reminder from everyone in our friend group. I should find it embarrassing, but more than anything, it just pisses me off.
From the moment I laid eyes on Gabe, I was captivated. His charm and confidence drew me in. But as time went on, the infatuation cracked. He’s manipulative, self-serving, toxic…not the guy I thought he was.
There’s one memory I haven’t been able to shake. After Gen’s birthday party, we were the last two to leave. He walked me to my car, lingered a little too long by the door. Said I looked pretty when I wasn’t trying—and then disappeared for three weeks. No text. No call. Just ghosted, like the words meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.
“Not anymore,” I say.
Savannah takes a sip from her glass, her face contorting as she sets it down, fingers fidgeting. “I haven’t even told your brother yet, but I just found out I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do.”
My mind races. This is unexpected and, honestly, makes my roommate crisis feel small. “What exactly are you freaking out about?”
Her eyes meet mine, wide with uncertainty. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I’ve never been a mother before.”
“You’re going to be a great mom…and Wes is going to be a great dad. Did I ever tell you he used to steal my baby dolls?”
Savannah chuckles. “You’ve never told me that.”
“Well, he would usually draw on them before being forced to give them back, but chances are he would never do that to your baby.”
“How reassuring.”
“Have you been to a doctor?”
She nods. “Last week. I’m seven weeks along.”
“When are you planning to tell Wes?”
“Soon.”
I reach over and place a hand on hers. “You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
