Page 189 of Money Reigns
I should probably get rid of this place.
I look over at Brody’s door.
So weird that that apartment is empty.
I shake off the thought and unlock the door
The lock clicks, the door swings open.
And I freeze.
This…isn’tmy apartment.
It’s the same layout. The same walls. But nothing else belongs to me anymore.
The sagging couch is gone, replaced by a brand-new sectional in soft gray, pillows plump and perfect. A coffee table gleams in the center, glass so clean it looks untouched. Matching end tables. A rug that actually matches the curtains.
Even the kitchen catches my eye from here, new stainless-steel appliances humming quiet, a toaster so sleek it looks like it could toast a slice of bread without charring it black.
My throat tightens as I step inside, my shoes whispering against the rug I never bought.
Down the hall, the frames I left empty are filled.
I stop, my hand catching on the wall for balance.
Photos.
From Mama’s albums. My brothers laughing on the porch. Daddy covered in flour at the inn kitchen. Ella grinning with a braid half undone.
My family. My life. Hung up in frames I never filled.
I stumble into the bathroom, my chest tight.
Everything is different.
The counter lined with bottles, my favorite shampoo, the perfume I thought I’d run out of, the exact face wash I used to hoard because it was too expensive to buy twice. Fresh towels, fluffy and white.
“War,” I whisper, my voice catching.
I rush to the bedroom.
And stop dead.
The bed is new. Larger. Covered in fresh linens. A dresser stands where my chipped secondhand one used to lean crooked against the wall.
The closet door is cracked, just enough for me to glimpse inside. Fabric in colors and textures I don’t recognize—silk, cashmere, lace. New clothes hanging neatly, tags glinting in the dark.
My breath hitches, jagged.
Why?
Why would War do this?
Was he planning on letting me go?
Was this some kind of birthday surprise?
Or did he want this place furnished, waiting, just in case I decided to leave him?
